Years Rolled On Again, And Wendy Had

All Children, Except One, Grow Up. They Soon Know That They Will Grow Up, And The Way Wendy Knew Was This. One Day When She Was Two Years Old She Was Playing In A Garden, And She Plucked Another Flower And Ran With It To Her Mother. I Suppose She Must Have Looked Rather Delightful, For Mrs Darling Put Her Hand To Her Heart And Cried, ‘oh, Why Can’t You Remain Like This For Ever!’ This Was All That Passed Between Them On The Subject, But Henceforth Wendy Knew That She Must Grow Up. You Always Know After You Are Two. Two Is The Beginning Of The End.

One Girl Is Worth More Use Than 20 Boys.

Yet If He Upbraided Her In His Hurry, It Was To Repent Bitterly His Temper The Next, And To Feel Its Effects More Than She, Temper Being A Weapon That We Hold By The Blade.

Years Rolled On Again, And Wendy Had A Daughter. This Ought Not To Be Written In Ink But In A Golden Splash.

Peter Was Not With Them For The Moment, And They Felt Rather Lonely Up There By Themselves. He Could Go So Much Faster Than They That He Would Suddenly Shoot Out Of Sight, To Have Some Adventure In Which They Had No Share. He Would Come Down Laughing Over Something Fearfully Funny He Had Been Saying To A Star, But He Had Already Forgotten What It Was, Or He Would Come Up With Mermaid Scales Still Sticking To Him, And Yet Not Be Able To To Say For Certain What Had Been Happening. It Was Really Rather Irritating To Children Who Had Never Seen A Mermaid.