‘Yes,’ said Peter, ‘and you also. Away with them.’

The astounded brothers were dragged away to hack and hew and carry. ‘Chairs and a fender first,’ Peter ordered. ‘Then we shall build the house round them.’

‘Aye,’ said Slightly, ‘that is how a house is built; it all comes back to me.’

Peter thought of everything. ‘Slightly,’ he ordered, ‘fetch a doctor.’

‘Aye, aye,’ said Slightly at once, and disappeared, scratching his head. But he knew Peter must be obeyed, and he returned in a moment, wearing John’s hat and looking solemn.

‘Please, sir,’ said Peter, going to him, ‘are you a doctor?’

The difference between him and the other boys at such a time was that they knew it was make-believe, while to him make-believe and true were exactly the same thing. This sometimes troubled them, as when they had to make-believe that they had had their dinners.

If they broke down in their make-believe he rapped them on the knuckles.

‘Yes, my little man,’ anxiously replied Slightly, who had chapped knuckles.

‘Please, sir,’ Peter explained, ‘a lady lies very ill.’

She was lying at their feet, but Slightly had the sense not to see her.

‘Tut, tut, tut,’ he said, ‘where does she lie?’

‘In yonder glade.’

‘I will put a glass thing in her mouth,’ said Slightly; and he made-believe to do it, while Peter waited. It was an anxious moment when the glass thing was withdrawn.

‘How is she?’ inquired Peter.

‘Tut, tut, tut,’ said Slightly, ‘this has cured her.’

‘I am glad,’ Peter cried.

‘I will call again in the evening,’ Slightly said; ‘give her beef tea out of a cup with a spout to it’; but after he had returned the hat to John he blew big breaths, which was his habit on escaping from a difficulty.

In the meantime the wood had been alive with the sound of axes; almost everything needed for a cosy dwelling already lay at Wendy’s feet.

‘If only we knew,’ said one, ‘the kind of house she likes best.’

‘Peter,’ shouted another, ‘she is moving in her sleep.’

‘Her mouth opens,’ cried a third, looking respectfully into it. ‘Oh, lovely!’

‘Perhaps she is going to sing in her sleep,’ said Peter. ‘Wendy, sing the kind of house you would like to have.’

Immediately, without opening her eyes, Wendy began to sing:

‘I wish I had a pretty house,
The littlest ever seen,
With funny little red walls
And roof of mossy green.’