pipe of peace, and looking almost as if they wanted tit-bits to eat.
They called Peter the Great White Father, prostrating themselves before
him; and he liked this tremendously, so that it was not really good for
him.
The great white father, he would say to them in a very lordly manner,
as they grovelled at his feet, is glad to see the Piccaninny warriors
protecting his wigwam from the pirates.
Me Tiger Lily, that lovely creature would reply. Peter Pan save me,
me his velly nice friend. Me no let pirates hurt him.
She was far too pretty to cringe in this way, but Peter thought it his
due, and he would answer condescendingly, It is good. Peter Pan has
spoken.
Always when he said, Peter Pan has spoken, it meant that they must
now shut up, and they accepted it humbly in that spirit; but they were
by no means so respectful to the other boys, whom they looked upon as
just ordinary braves. They said How-do? to them, and things like
that; and what annoyed the boys was that Peter seemed to think this all
right.
Secretly Wendy sympathised with them a little, but she was far too
loyal a housewife to listen to any complaints against father. Father
knows best, she always said, whatever her private opinion must be. Her
private opinion was that the redskins should not call her a squaw.
We have now reached the evening that was to be known among them as the
Night of Nights, because of its adventures and their upshot. The day,
as if quietly gathering its forces, had been almost uneventful, and now
the redskins in their blankets were at their posts above, while, below,
the children were having their evening meal; all except Peter, who had
gone out to get the time. The way you got the time on the island was to
find the crocodile, and then stay near him till the clock struck.
The meal happened to be a make-believe tea, and they sat around the
board, guzzling in their greed; and really, what with their chatter and
recriminations, the noise, as Wendy said, was positively deafening. To
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