the Christmas puddings in
the kitchen, and had been drawn away from them, with a raisin still on
her cheek, by Nana's absurd suspicions. She thought the best way of
getting a little quiet was to take Nana to the nursery for a moment, but
in custody of course.

'There, you suspicious brute,' she said, not sorry that Nana was in
disgrace, 'they are perfectly safe, aren't they? Every one of the little
angels sound asleep in bed. Listen to their gentle breathing.'

Here Michael, encouraged by his success, breathed so loudly that they
were nearly detected. Nana knew that kind of breathing, and she tried to
drag herself out of Liza's clutches.

But Liza was dense. 'No more of it, Nana,' she said sternly, pulling her
out of the room. 'I warn you if you bark again I shall go straight for
master and missus and bring them home from the party, and then, oh,
won't master whip you, just.'

She tied the unhappy dog up again, but do you think Nana ceased to bark?
Bring master and missus home from the party! Why, that was just what
she wanted. Do you think she cared whether she was whipped so long as
her charges were safe? Unfortunately Liza returned to her puddings, and
Nana, seeing that no help would come from her, strained and strained at
the chain until at last she broke it. In another moment she had burst
into the dining-room of 27 and flung up her paws to heaven, her most
expressive way of making a communication. Mr. and Mrs. Darling knew at
once that something terrible was happening in their nursery, and without
a good-bye to their hostess they rushed into the street.

But it was now ten minutes since three scoundrels had been breathing
behind the curtains; and Peter Pan can do a great deal in ten minutes.

We now return to the nursery.

'It's all right,' John announced, emerging from his hiding-place. 'I
say, Peter, can you really fly?'

Instead of troubling to answer him Peter flew round the room, taking the
mantelpiece on the way.

'How topping!' said John and Michael.

'How sweet!' cried Wendy.

'Yes, I'm sweet, oh, I am sweet!' said Peter, forgetting his manners
again.

It looked delightfully easy, and they tried it first from the floor and
then from the beds, but they always went down instead of up.

'I say, how do you do it?' asked John, rubbing his knee. He was quite a
practical boy.

'You just think lovely wonderful thoughts,' Peter explained, 'and they
lift you up in the air.'

He showed them again