“Ay, she will die,” Slightly admitted, “but there is no way out.”
“Yes, there is,” cried Peter. ‘‘Let us build a little house round her.”
They were all delighted. “Quick,” he ordered them, “bring me each of you the best of what we have. Gut our house. Be sharp.”
In a moment they were as busy as tailors the night before a wedding. They skurried this way and that, down for bedding, up for firewood, and while they were at it, who should appear but John and Michael. As they dragged along the ground they fell asleep standing, stopped, woke up, moved another step and slept again.
“John, John,” Michael would cry, “wake up! Where is Nana, John, and mother?”
And then John would rub his eyes and mutter, “It is true, we did fly.”
You may be sure they were very relieved to find Peter.
“Hullo, Peter,” they said.
“Hullo,” replied Peter amicably, though he had quite forgotten them. He was very busy at the moment measuring Wendy with
