“I wasn't crying about mothers," he said rather indignantly. "I was crying because I can't get my shadow to stick on. Besides, I wasn't crying.”

“Again came that ringing crow, and Peter dropped in front of them. "Greeting, boys," he cried, and mechanically they saluted, and then again was silence.He frowned."I am back," he said hotly, "why do you not cheer?”

“Next year he did not come for her. She waited in a new frock because the old one simply would not meet, but he never came."Perhaps he is ill," Michael said."You know he is never ill."Michael came close to her and whispered, with a shiver, "Perhaps there is no such person, Wendy!" and then Wendy would have cried if Michael had not been crying.”

“You are too late," he cried proudly, "I have shot the Wendy. Peter will be so pleased with me."Overhead Tinker Bell shouted "Silly ass!" and darted into hiding.”

“Boy, why are you crying?”

“Pan, who and what art thou?" he cried huskily."I'm youth, I'm joy," Peter answered at a venture, "I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg.”

“When ladies used to come to me in dreams, I said, 'Pretty mother, pretty mother.' But when at last she really came, I shot her.”