k again, and thus
there was more room to play. There was an enormous fireplace which was
in almost any part of the room where you cared to light it, and across
this Wendy stretched strings, made of fibre, from which she suspended
her washing. The bed was tilted against the wall by day, and let down at
6:30, when it filled nearly half the room; and all the boys slept in it,
except Michael, lying like sardines in a tin. There was a strict rule
against turning round until one gave the signal, when all turned at
once. Michael should have used it also, but Wendy would have [desired]
a baby, and he was the littlest, and you know what women are, and the
short and long of it is that he was hung up in a basket.

It was rough and simple, and not unlike what baby bears would have made
of an underground house in the same circumstances. But there was one
recess in the wall, no larger than a bird-cage, which was the private
apartment of Tinker Bell. It could be shut off from the rest of
the house by a tiny curtain, which Tink, who was most fastidious
[particular], always kept drawn when dressing or undressing. No woman,
however large, could have had a more exquisite boudoir [dressing room]
and bed-chamber combined. The couch, as she always called it, was
a genuine Queen Mab, with club legs; and she varied the bedspreads
according to what fruit-blossom was in season. Her mirror was a
Puss-in-Boots, of which there are now only three, unchipped, known to
fairy dealers; the washstand was Pie-crust and reversible, the chest
of drawers an authentic Charming the Sixth, and the carpet and rugs the
best (the early) period of Margery and Robin. There was a chandelier
from Tiddlywinks for the look of the thing, but of course she lit the
residence herself. Tink was very contemptuous of the rest of the house,
as indeed was perhaps inevitable, and her chamber, though beautiful,
looked rather conceited, having the appearance of a nose permanently
turned up.

I suppose it was all especially entrancing to Wendy, because those
rampagious boys of hers gave her so much to do. Really there were whole
weeks when, except perhaps with a stocking in the evening, she was never
above ground. The cooking, I can tell you, kept her nose to the pot, and
even if there was nothing in it, even if there was no pot, she had to
keep watching that it came aboil just the same. You never exactly
knew whether there would be a real meal or just a make-believe, it all
depen