Bedtime stories

Mary Lennox

Mary Lennox was a spoilt, rude and bad-tempered child. She was never really well, and she was thin, miserable and sour-faced. No one liked her at all.

None of this was really Mary’s own fault. She was born in India, where her father worked. He was always busy with his work, and paid no attention to his daughter. Her mother was very pretty, and cared only for parties and pleasure. She left Mary in the care of an Indian nursemaid, who gave the little girl everything she wanted so that she would not cry and upset her mother. So, not surprisingly, Mary grew up into a spoilt and most unpleasant girl.

One hot morning, when Mary was nine years old, she had a strange feeling that something was wrong. From her room she heard shouts and cries and the patter of hurrying feet, but no one came to her. She lay back on her bed and fell asleep.

When she awoke, the house was silent. Still no one came to her, and she was angry that she had been forgotten. Suddenly the door opened, and two Englishmen came in.

‘Why was I forgotten?’ Mary asked, stamping her foot. ‘Why does nobody come?’

‘Poor little kid,’ said one of the men. ‘There’s nobody left to come.’

That was how Mary learned that her father and mother had been killed by a disease sweeping the country. The servants had died, too. Mary was alone. There was no one in India to look after her, so she was sent all the way to England to live with her uncle, Mr Craven, at Misselthwaite Manor in Yorkshire.

In London, Mary was met by Mrs Medlock, her uncle’s housekeeper. Mary disliked her at once. But then, Mary disliked everyone.

Mrs Medlock thought Mary was a plain, rude child – and she was quite right. As they travelled north, she told Mary about the house. It sounded very grand and gloomy, and stood on the edge of a moor.

‘There’ll be nothing for you to do, and your uncle won’t bother with you,’ said Mrs Medlock. ‘He’s got a crooked back. He was a sour young man until he married. His wife was very pretty, and he worshipped her. When she died, it made him more strange than ever. He’s away most of the time, so you’ll have to look after yourself.’

It was dark when they got out of the train.

A carriage took them to the house, but Mary could see nothing outside in the rainy blackness.

‘What’s the moor like?’ she asked.

‘It’s just miles and miles of wild land,’ replied Mrs Medlock. ‘Nothing grows there but gorse and heather, and nothing lives on it but wild ponies and sheep.’

At last the carriage stopped in a courtyard.

A butler opened a huge oak door. ‘You’re to take her to her room,’ he said to Mrs Medlock. ‘The Master is going to London tomorrow, and he doesn’t want to see her.’

Mary followed Mrs Medlock upstairs and through many corridors to a room with a fire burning and supper on the table.

‘This is where you’ll live,’ Mrs Medlock told Mary. ‘Just see you stay here and don’t go poking round the rest of the house.’

This was Mary’s welcome to Misselthwaite Manor. It made her feel cross and unwanted and lonely.

The Gardens

The next morning, Mary awakened to find a housemaid lighting her fire. She was called Martha, and she chatted as she worked.

Mary was not used to friendly servants. In India, she had never said ‘Please’ or ‘Thank you’, and once she had slapped her nurse’s face when she was angry. Somehow she knew that she must not treat Martha this way. At first Mary had no interest in Martha’s chatter, but little by little she began to listen to the friendly Yorkshire voice.

‘Eh! You should see all my brothers and sisters in our little cottage on the moor,’ Martha said. ‘There’s twelve of us, and my father only gets sixteen shillings a week. My mother has a job to feed ’em all for that. The fresh air on th’ moor makes ’em strong and healthy. Our Dickon, he’s twelve, he’s always out on th’ moor. He’s good wi’ animals. He’s tamed a wild pony.’

When Martha left, Mary went out to play.

‘Go and look at the gardens,’ Martha had said. ‘There’s not much growing now, but it’s lovely in summer!’ She had stopped for a second and then said softly, ‘One garden has been shut up for ten years, ever since Mrs Craven died. Mr Craven locked the door and buried the key. He hates that garden,’

The grounds of Misselthwaite Manor were huge. They were divided by high walls, so there were many gardens. In some there were flowers and trees and fountains. Vegetables grew in others. Doors led from one garden to the next, and every garden looked bare and wintry.

Presently an old man came through one of the doors. He had a surly old face and did not seem at all pleased to see Mary.

‘Can I go through that door?’ asked Mary.

‘If tha likes,’ he replied. ‘There’s nowt to see.’

Mary was hoping to find the door to the locked garden. She tried many doors, but they all opened easily. There was one wall covered with ivy that seemed to have no door at all. She could see trees behind the wall. A robin on a high branch burst into song. She stopped to listen, and the cheerful notes brought a little smile to her unhappy face. She wandered back to the old man, who ignored her and went on digging.

At last she said, ‘There’s a garden over there without a door,’

‘What garden?’ he asked gruffly.

‘On the other side of that wall,’ she replied. ‘I heard a robin in the trees there.’

The old man stood up and a smile spread across his face. Mary saw how much nicer he looked when he smiled. He whistled very softly. The robin landed by the man’s foot.

‘Here he is,’ he said quietly. ‘He always comes when I whistle. Isn’t he a grand little chap? Look, he knows we’re talking about him.’ The robin, plump and scarlet-breasted, hopped about, pecking at the earth. Ben Weatherstaff, the gardener, went on digging. ‘He’s the only friend I’ve got,’ he said. ‘When he’s not with me, I’m lonely.’

‘I’m lonely, too,’ said Mary. ‘I’ve never had any friends.’

Ben stopped and looked at her. ‘I reckon we’re a good bit alike,’ he said. ‘We’re not good-looking and we’re as sour as we look.’

Mary had never thought before about her sour face or bad temper. Now that she did, it made her feel uncomfortable. Just then, the robin flew up into a tree and sang with all his voice.

‘He’s taken a fancy to thee,’ said Ben. ‘He wants to be your friend.’

Mary looked up at the robin. ‘Would you be my friend?’ she asked. She spoke softly and kindly, instead of in her usual hard, little voice.

‘Why,’ said Ben, gently ‘tha said that like a real child instead of a sharp old woman. It was nearly like Dickon when he talks to th’ wild things on th’ moor.’

The robin flew over the wall.

‘There must be a door to that garden,’ Mary said with determination.

‘Well, there’s none to be found now,’ snapped Ben. ‘Don’t go poking your nose in places where you don’t belong.’ And he walked off without saying goodbye.

Robin Shows the Way

Mary spent most days out of doors. The cold wind brought a pink glow to her cheeks, and each evening she ate a good meal. After supper, she liked to sit by the fire and talk to Martha.

‘Why does Mr Craven hate the locked garden?’ Mary asked one evening.

‘It was Mrs Craven’s garden. She loved it,’ Martha said. ‘She was sitting on the branch of a tree when it broke and she fell. She was hurt so bad, she died. That’s why he hates it. He won’t let anyone talk about it.’

Mary had never felt sorry for anyone before, but now she understood how very unhappy Mr Craven must be.

The wind blew across the moor and moaned and roared around the house. Martha called it ‘wutherin’’. Mary listened, and through the wutherin’ she thought she heard a child crying.

‘No,’ Martha said when Mary asked. ‘It’s only th’ wind or th’ scullery maid. She’s been cryin’ all day with toothache.’ And she quickly left the room.

Next day the rain poured down. ‘On a day like this at home,’ said Martha, ‘we all try to keep busy indoors. Except Dickon. He goes out in all weathers. He brought home a fox cub that he found half drowned. He’s got a crow, too, called Soot.’

Left on her own, Mary decided to explore the house. She went down corridors and up and down stairs. In the stillness, she heard again the faint sound of a child crying. As she stopped to listen at a door, another door opened and out came Mrs Medlock. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded. ‘Get back to your room at once!’

Mary was angry. She knew that she had heard the cry, and she meant to find out what it was.

The storms passed. ‘Wait until th’ sun shines on th’ golden gorse and th’ heather,’ said Martha.

‘I’d like to see your cottage on the moor, and meet your mother,’ said Mary.

‘Tha would love my mother,’ Martha said. ‘She’s kind and loving and hard-working. When it’s my day out and I can go home to see her, I just jump for joy.’

‘I’d like to see Dickon, too,’ said Mary.

‘Yes, you’d like him,’ Martha said. ‘Everyone likes Dickon.’

‘No one likes me,’ said Mary sadly.

‘Well, maybe that’s because you don’t like other people,’ said Martha, smiling.

‘I never thought of that,’ said Mary.

Mary found Ben in the garden. ‘Spring’s coming,’ he said. ‘Th’ plants are workin’ under th’ soil. You’ll soon see crocuses and daffy-downdillys.’

The robin flew over, and Mary followed him to his perch on the ivy-covered wall. He hopped down onto the soil and, as Mary came nearer, he pecked at the earth for a worm. Suddenly, in the soil, Mary saw a rusty key.

‘Perhaps it’s the key to the Secret Garden!’ she thought, slipping it into her pocket.

After supper, Martha told Mary about her day at home. ‘Mother has sent you a present to cheer you up.’ She brought out a skipping rope with striped handles and showed Mary how to skip.

‘Your mother is very kind,’ said Mary, wondering how Martha’s mother could have spared the money to buy her a rope. Now, wherever she went, Mary skipped, and the more she skipped, the stronger she grew.

One morning, Mary was watching the robin on his perch on the wall, when suddenly something happened that felt like magic! A gust of wind blew the ivy on the wall, and under the leaves Mary saw a door! She felt for the key in her pocket and tried it in the lock. It was very stiff, but she could just turn it. The next second, she was in the Secret Garden!

Mary’s heart thumped as she looked round. It was overgrown and untidy, but she thought it was the loveliest place. She saw green shoots of bulbs pushing up through the soil, and she pulled the weeds away to make room for the crocuses and snowdrops. Time slipped by as she went on weeding and clearing dead leaves and grass.

At supper time, she longed to share her secret with Martha, but she dared not in case she should be forbidden to go again to her Secret Garden. Instead, she said, ‘I wish I had a bit of a garden to grow things in.’

‘That’s a lovely idea,’ said Martha. ‘I’ll get Dickon to bring some garden tools and seeds to plant.’

Mary worked with her hands in her Secret Garden every day. She was careful that Ben Weatherstaff never saw where she went. One day Ben said to her, ‘This fresh air is doin’ thee good. Tha’s fatter and not so yeller. Tha looked like a young plucked crow when tha first came.’ Mary laughed. She even liked Ben on his grumpy days.

One day Mary saw a boy sitting under a tree. Two rabbits and a pheasant were near him, and a squirrel clung to the tree above his head. They all seemed to be listening to the tune he was playing on a pipe.

The boy got up slowly, so as not to frighten the animals. His blue eyes smiled from his round, rosy face. ‘I’m Dickon,’ he said to Mary. ‘I’ve brought tha garden tools and some flower seeds.’

His smile was so gentle and kind that Mary forgot to be shy. She felt that if animals trusted him, she could trust him, too. After a while she asked, ‘Do you know about the Secret Garden?’

‘I’ve heard of it,’ he said, ‘but I don’t know where it is.’

Making sure no one was watching, Mary led him through the door in the wall. Dickon was amazed. He looked round at all the plants and trees. ‘All these will grow,’ he said. ‘There’ll be flowers and roses everywhere in a few weeks.’

They worked together, weeding and pruning. Mary felt she had never known anyone like Dickon. Trying to speak in a warm, Yorkshire voice like Dickon’s and Martha’s, she asked, ‘Does tha like me?’

‘Eh!’ he laughed. ‘That I does, an’ so does the robin.’

After dinner, Mrs Medlock came to take Mary to see Mr Craven. ‘He’s going away tomorrow, and he wants to see you first,’ she said.

Mary felt a little afraid, and very awkward and stiff. But Mr Craven wasn’t a bit frightening, nor was his back really crooked. His face was handsome, but looked full of worry and misery. He asked if there was anything she would like. Mary asked for a piece of garden to grow her own flowers.

‘Of course,’ said her uncle. ‘Take any bit that’s not being used.’ Mary knew which bit this would be. She could call the Secret Garden her own!

Colin

In the night, Mary was awakened by heavy rain and the wutherin’ of the wind. She couldn’t sleep, and as she lay tossing in bed, she heard the crying again. ‘That’s never the wind,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t care what Mrs Medlock says, I’m going to find out what that noise is.’

Candlestick in hand, she walked softly along the corridors. She saw a light shining under a door. She pushed the door open and there, lying on a four-poster bed, she saw a boy crying pitifully.

He turned suddenly and stopped crying.

‘Are you a ghost?’ he asked, frightened.

‘No, I’m Mary Lennox,’ she answered. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Mr Craven’s son, Colin,’ said the boy.

‘So I must be your cousin,’ said Mary. ‘Did no one tell you I’d come to live here?’

‘No. No one would dare,’ replied Colin. ‘I should have been afraid you’d see me. My father won’t let people see me. He’s afraid I’ll grow up to be a hunchback. I’m always ill, so I stay here in bed. My father hates me because my mother died when I was born.’

‘Have you always been here?’ asked Mary.

‘Nearly always,’ replied Colin. ‘If I go out, people stare at me and I can’t stand it.’

‘If you don’t like people to see you,’ she said, ‘shall I go away?’

‘Oh, no!’ Colin answered quickly. ‘Stay and talk to me.’

Mary sat on a cushioned stool next to the bed, and they talked for a long time. Colin wanted to know all about Mary, and she answered all his questions. He told her how miserable and lonely he felt, even though he was given whatever he asked for.

All the servants have to please me,’ Colin said. ‘It makes me ill to be angry, so everyone has to do as I say.’

‘Do you think you will get well?’ Mary asked.

‘I don’t suppose I shall,’ Colin replied. ‘I think I’m going to die. But let’s talk about something else. How old are you?’

‘I’m ten, same as you,’ Mary said.

‘How do you know I’m ten?’ he asked.

‘Because the garden was locked ten years ago, when you were born,’ Mary answered.

‘What garden?’ Colin asked, surprised.

‘Just a garden Mr Craven hates,’ Mary replied. ‘He locked the door and buried the key.’

‘What’s the garden like?’ Colin persisted.

‘No one has been allowed to see it for ten years,’ Mary answered. She was careful not to let him know that she had already found it.

Colin wanted to know all he could about the garden, and they talked about the exciting things they might find there.

‘I shall make them open the door,’ Colin said.

‘Oh, no!’ cried Mary. ‘Let’s keep it a secret. If they open the door, it will never be a secret again. Perhaps one day we may find the door. We could go inside, and no one would know about it but us.’

‘I should like that,’ said Colin. ‘I never had a secret before.’ Tired from talking, he fell asleep, and Mary crept away.

Rainy Days

The next morning, Mary told Martha about the crying and how she had found Colin. Poor Martha was very upset. She thought she might lose her job for allowing Mary to find the young master of the house.

‘You needn’t worry,’ Mary told her. ‘Colin was pleased, and he wants to see me every day.’

‘Tha must have bewitched him!’ Martha cried,

‘What’s the matter with him?’ Mary asked.

Martha told her that since he was born, Colin had not been allowed to walk. His father thought his back was weak. A famous doctor had been to see him, and had said he would get strong if less fuss was made of him. But still he was spoiled and given his own way.

‘Colin thinks he will die,’ said Mary. ‘Do you think so?’

‘Mother says there’s no reason for a child to live if he can’t get out in the fresh air,’ Martha replied.

‘It’s done me good to be outside,’ said Mary. ‘Do you think it would help Colin?’

‘Eh! I don’t know,’ Martha said. ‘He had a bad tantrum when he was taken into the garden. He got angry because he thought one of the gardeners was looking at him. He cried so much he was ill all night.’

‘Well,’ said Mary, ‘if he ever gets angry with me, I shan’t go to see him again.’

On her next visit to Colin, Mary told him about Dickon. ‘He’s not like anyone else,’ she said. ‘He can charm the animals on the moor. When he plays his pipe, they come to listen.’

‘The moor sounds a wonderful place,’ said Colin, ‘but I’ll never see it. I’m going to die.’

‘How do you know?’ Mary asked, feeling a little cross. Colin talked about dying almost as though it pleased him.

‘Everyone says I will,’ Colin replied. ‘I think my father will be glad when I’m not here.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ said Mary. ‘That famous doctor was right. They should make less fuss of you, and they should let you go out. If you could only see Dickon, you’d want to get well’ And she told him all about Dickon’s family, who were so well and happy even though they were so poor.

It rained for a week, so Mary could not visit the garden. Instead, she spent her days with Colin. They read and talked and, for the first time, Colin started to laugh. He often spoke of the garden and what might be in it. Mary longed to share her secret with him, but felt that she could not yet trust him.

The Secret is Told

After the rain, Mary awoke early one morning to find the sun streaming through the blinds. When she ran down to the Secret Garden, she found that Dickon was already there.

‘I couldn’t stay in bed on a morning like this,’ he cried. ‘Look at th’ garden!’ The rain and the warmth had made all the new shoots push up through the earth. There were clumps of orange and purple crocuses. Mary was breathless with happiness.

The robin was building a nest. ‘We mustn’t watch too close,’ warned Dickon. ‘He’s too busy now for visitin’ an’ gossipin’,’

A whole week had passed since Mary had last seen Dickon. She told him about finding Colin.

‘If we could get him out here,’ said Dickon, ‘he’d forget about lumps growing on his back. We’d be just two lads and a little lass lookin’ on at th’ springtime. It’d do him more good than doctor’s stuff.’

When Mary went in at the end of the day, Martha told her that Colin was angry because she had not been to see him.

‘I won’t let that boy come if you stay with him instead of me!’ Colin raged when Mary went to see him. ‘You’re selfish for not coming!’

‘What are you?’ snapped Mary. ‘You’re the most selfish person I know!’

‘Well, I’m going to die!’ wailed Colin.

‘I don’t believe it,’ said Mary sourly. ‘You only want people to be sorry for you. But they’re not! You’re too nasty!’ She marched to the door and called back, ‘I was going to tell you about Dickon and his fox and crow, but I shan’t now.’ And she shut the door firmly behind her.

Later, as she thought of Colin’s lonely day, her anger faded and she felt sorry for him. ‘If he wants to see me tomorrow,’ she thought, ‘I’ll go and sit with him.’

In the night, Mary was awakened by noises in the corridor, and she could hear sobbing and screaming. ‘It’s Colin having a tantrum,’ she thought. She covered her ears, but she couldn’t shut out the dreadful sounds.

She jumped out of bed and stamped her foot angrily. ‘Somebody must stop him,’ she cried. ‘He deserves a beating for being so selfish! He’s upsetting everyone in the house!’ She ran into Colin’s room and shouted, ‘Stop! I hate you! You’ll scream yourself to death in a minute, and I wish you would!’

Colin looked dreadful. His face was swollen and he was gasping and choking, but Mary was too angry to care. ‘If you scream again, I shall scream louder!’ she stormed.

‘I can’t stop,’ sobbed Colin. ‘I’ve felt a lump coming on my back!’

‘Turn over and let me look,’ Mary ordered. She looked carefully at the poor, thin back. ‘There’s not a lump as big as a pin,’ she announced. ‘Don’t you ever talk about it again!’

Colin’s sobbing slowly died, and Mary sat by his bed quietly comforting him until he fell asleep.

In the morning Mary found Dickon in the garden with his squirrels, and she told him of Colin’s sobbing in the night.

‘Eh! We mun get him out here, poor lad,’ said Dickon.

‘Aye, that we mun,’ said Mary, using the same Yorkshire words.

Dickon laughed. ‘Tha mun talk a bit o Yorkshire to Colin,’ he said. ‘It’ll make him laugh, and Mother says laughing’s good for ill folk.’

When Mary went to see Colin, she told him about Dickon and his squirrels, Nut and Shell. They laughed and talked for a long time. Then Colin said, ‘I’m sorry that I said ’d send Dickon away. I didn’t mean it. He sounds like a wonderful boy.’

‘I’m glad you said that,’ said Mary, ‘because he’s coming to see you, and he’s bringing his animals.’

Colin cheered up. He looked so happy that Mary suddenly decided to take a chance.

‘That’s not all,’ she said. ‘There’s something better. I’ve found the door to the garden!’

Colin was overjoyed. ‘Then shall we go in and find out what’s inside?’ he asked.

Mary paused – and then boldly told the truth. ‘I’ve already been in it. That’s why I could tell you so much about it. I didn’t dare tell you my secret until I was sure I could trust you.’

‘I Shall Live For Ever and Ever!’

At breakfast, Colin announced to his nurse, ‘A boy and some animals are coming to see me. Bring them straight up when they arrive.’

It wasn’t long before Mary heard a bleating.

‘That’s Dickon’s lamb!’ she cried. ‘They’re coming!’

Dickon came in smiling. He carried a lamb, and his little fox trotted beside him. Nut the squirrel sat on one shoulder and Soot the crow on the other. His other squirrel, Shell, peeped out of a pocket.

Colin stared in wonder. Dickon gently put the lamb in Colin’s lap and gave him a bottle to feed it. They were all so busy and happy together. The whole world changed for Colin

‘I’m going to see it all!’ cried Colin.

‘Aye, that tha mun,’ said Mary, ‘an’ tha munnot lose no time about it.’

Colin was put in his chair, and Dickon pushed it along the paths. As they went, Mary told Colin about the places they passed. ‘Here’s where I met Ben,’ she said, ‘and this is where I saw the robin. And this,’ she whispered, ‘this is the garden!’

Mary opened the door, and Dickon pushed the chair inside quickly. Colin looked round for a long time, seeing all the things Mary had described. Then he cried out, ‘I shall get well! I shall live for ever and ever!’ That afternoon, the whole world changed for Colin.

‘It’s been a grand day,’ said Dickon.

‘Aye, that it has,’ said Mary.

‘Does tha think,’ said Colin, ‘that it was made like this ’ere all for me?’

‘My word!’ said Mary. ‘That’s a good bit of Yorkshire!’ And they all joined in the laughter.

‘I don’t want this day to go,’ said Colin, ‘but I shall come back every day.’

‘That tha will,’ said Dickon, ‘an’ we shall soon have thee digging and walking.’

Suddenly Ben Weatherstaff’s face glared down at them from the top of the wall. ‘What are you doing in there?’ he shouted at Mary. Then he saw Colin, and his mouth opened in surprise.

‘Do you know who I am?’ Colin asked.

‘Aye, that I do,’ Ben answered. ‘Th’art th’ poor cripple lad.’

Colin sat up angrily. ‘’m not a cripple! I’ll show you!’ he cried. He struggled out of the chair and with Dickon’s help, stood straight and tall. ‘Look at me now!’ he shouted.

‘God bless thee, lad!’ said Ben, and tears ran down his face.

Colin remained standing. He suddenly felt his fear leave him. ‘I’m not afraid any more!’ he cried. ‘It’s the Magic of the Secret Garden! It’s working to make all the plants grow, and it will work for me.’

That evening Colin was quiet. After a long time, he said to Mary, ‘I’m not going to be a poor thing any more. If I believe I shall get strong and well, the Magic will make it happen.’

Magic

Next day in the garden, Colin called Mary, Dickon and Ben to him. ‘I’m going to show you that the Magic works,’ he said.

Slowly, taking a few steps at a time, Colin walked right round the garden. His face was flushed with joy.

‘This must be the biggest secret of all,’ he said. ‘When I can walk and run well, I shall walk into my father’s study and say, “Here I am, well and strong!”’

It was very hard to keep the secret. The Magic of the Secret Garden was making Colin bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked. Each day Colin and Mary did exercises to make them strong, and they both grew plumper and healthier. Mary became pretty, and Colin no longer looked like an invalid. Everyone was amazed at the change.

Now, while the Secret Garden was working its Magic, Mr Craven was travelling in faraway places. For ten years he had been trying to run away from his sorrow and had refused to be comforted.

Then one day, whilst walking in Austria, he sat down by a stream. Gradually he felt his mind and body relax. The peace of the place filled him, and from that moment he felt healthier and happier.

One night, he dreamt of his wife’s garden at Misselthwaite Manor. The dream was so clear that he decided to return home at once. As soon as he arrived home, he went to the garden.

He walked slowly, as all his sad memories came rushing back. As he stood by the door of the Secret Garden, wondering how to find the key, he heard laughter coming from the other side of the wall.

Suddenly the door burst open and a boy ran out, almost into his arms. He was a tall, handsome boy, and Mr Craven gazed at him, unable to speak.

Colin stood still and recovered his breath. Then he said, ‘Father, I’m Colin. You can’t believe it, but it’s true.’

He led his father into the garden and told him how the Magic had made everything grow, and had made him strong and well. Mr Craven had never heard such a wonderful story. He sat by Mary and Dickon and the animals and laughed as he had not done for years. He was so proud of his handsome, healthy son!

‘Now,’ said Colin, ‘it needn’t be a secret any more. I shall never need my chair again. I shall walk with you, Father!’

They stood up and walked towards the house. At Mr Craven’s side, strong and straight as any lad in Yorkshire, walked his son.

The Sea-Chest

I remember, as if it were yesterday, the old seaman who came to live at our inn. He was tall and strong, and a black pigtail hung down to his shoulder. His hands were rough, and he had a white scar across one cheek. His name was Billy Bones, and when he was drunk, as he often was, we were all afraid of him. He never talked to any of the sailors who called at the inn, and he paid me fourpence a month to warn him if I should ever see a sailor with one leg.

My father was ill at the time, and I was left to look after Billy Bones. He drank so much that Dr Livesey warned him that rum would kill him. But he didn’t care to change his ways, and when he lay weak and helpless in his bed, he told me dreadful stories of walking the plank, storms at sea and the wicked deeds of men.

He had been the mate on board the pirate ship of Captain Flint. When the captain was dying, he gave Billy Bones a map that showed where his treasure was buried. Since that day, the rest of Flint’s old crew had been trying to get hold of the map. It was hidden in Billy Bones’ sea-chest.

One frosty afternoon an old blind seaman, Blind Pew, called at the inn and asked to be taken to Billy Bones. He gripped Billy’s hand as he left, and something passed from his hand to Billy’s. Fear filled Billy’s eyes when he saw what it was.

‘The black spot!’ he cried. ‘Jim Hawkins, listen to me. This black spot means that my old shipmates are coming to get me. They’re after my map, Jim! They’ll kill me!’ He sprang up as he spoke, and the strain and shock must have been too much. He fell dead at my feet.

Billy Bones died without paying his bills. My mother and I took some money from his sea-chest, to pay what he owed. There was also a bundle of papers, which I took for safekeeping.

That very night a gang of ruffians broke into our inn. My mother and I hid outside and watched as they searched Billy Bones’ sea-chest. They took the money that remained there, but they seemed to be looking for something else. Unable to find what they wanted, they shouted and raged. I realised that they were after the bundle of papers in my pocket.

I went to Dr Livesey and his friend Squire Trelawney and told them the whole story. When we opened the bundle we found Captain Flint’s treasure map. The Squire was very excited.

‘Flint was the most bloodthirsty pirate that ever sailed,’ he cried. ‘I’ll fit out a ship in Bristol! Livesey, you’ll be ship’s doctor. I’ll take you too, Jim Hawkins – you’ll be cabin boy. We’ll have the best ship and the choicest crew in England. And we’ll have that treasure!’

So it was that Squire Trelawney bought the Hispaniola and prepared her for the voyage. He needed a good crew, and took on a sailor named Long John Silver as ship’s cook. His left leg was cut off close by the hip, and under his left arm he carried a crutch. He was very tall and strong.

This man was very helpful to the Squire and helped him to assemble a tough, hard-working crew. In a few weeks the Hispaniola was ready to sail.

The Voyage

We set sail under our captain, Captain Smollett. The coxswain, Israel Hands, was an able man, and Long John Silver was a fine cook. He carried his crutch on a cord round his neck so that both his hands were free. He propped himself against the side and got on with his cooking like someone safe ashore.

We all worked well and willingly, and I often heard the crew singing as they toiled. The song was one I’d heard from old Billy Bones:

‘Fifteen men on the Dead Man’s Chest—
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!’

I passed many spare moments in Silver’s shining galley. His parrot, Captain Flint, named after the famous pirate, swung in its cage and screeched, ‘Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!’ all day long.

Silver was interesting company, full of gripping yarns of his other voyages and adventures. He was well liked by all, and the men looked up to him as a leader.

We kept a barrel of apples on deck, for the men to help themselves. One evening I went to the barrel and, finding it nearly empty, climbed inside to get an apple from the bottom. There I sat, quietly rocked by the sea.

Someone sat down on the deck, leaned against the barrel and started to speak. The words I overheard made my blood run cold. Israel Hands and Silver were planning to take over the ship once we had found the treasure. They would kill the captain and any of us who would not fall in with them! I could not believe my ears.

Suddenly there was a shout of ‘Land-ho!’ The men all ran to catch the first sight of land. I took the chance to jump out of the barrel and run to the safety of my friends.

Captain Smollett was telling the crew about the island. Long John Silver said that he’d been there before when his ship had put in for water. I looked at his smiling face and shuddered. I was now certain that Silver was more than a cheerful ship’s cook. He was also a bloodthirsty pirate!

As soon as I could slip away I told the captain and my friends, the Squire and the doctor, what I had heard. They decided we were safe until the treasure was found. There were nineteen pirates, but only seven of us. When we were ready we would surprise them, and hope to win by catching them unprepared.

We now lay off Treasure Island. It looked a gloomy, forbidding place. The lower parts were wooded, with rocky peaks jutting above the trees. Even in the sunshine, with birds soaring above, I hated the thought of it.

We were anchored in an inlet where trees came down to the water. The air was hot and still, and the men were restless and grumbling. Captain Smollett gave leave for the men to go ashore, which raised their spirits. I believe the silly fellows thought they would break their shins on treasure as soon as they landed.

Long John Silver was in charge of the two boats taking thirteen men ashore. I knew I should not be needed on board and decided to go ashore too.

My Shore Adventure Begins

I ran up the beach into the woods, glad to be free and alone. I sat quietly hidden in the bushes. Hearing voices, I moved nearer to catch the words. I could see and hear Silver bullying a sailor to join the pirates. The sailor angrily refused. Silver’s answer was to plunge his dagger into the man and leave him lying dead in the forest.

I felt faint, and the whole world swam from me in a whirling mist. When I pulled myself together Silver was wiping his knife on a tuft of grass.

I feared for my life if I should be found, so I ran and ran, not caring where.

I stopped at the foot of a stony hill. My eye was caught by a movement on the hillside. I could not tell if it was a man or an animal. Here was a new danger I felt I could not face, and I began to run towards the shore.

But the creature was fast and, darting from tree to tree, he came closer. I could see now that it was a man, but so wild and strange that I was afraid. As he neared me he threw himself down and held up his hands, as if begging for mercy.

My courage returned, and I spoke to him. ‘Who are you?’ I asked.

‘I’m poor Ben Gunn, I am,’ he answered. ‘It’s three years since I spoke to anyone.’ I had never seen such a ragged creature. He was dressed in a patchwork of tattered cloth, and his blue eyes looked startling in a face burnt black by the sun.

Babbling in a high, squeaky voice, he told me he was rich. Sometimes he spoke sense, and sometimes his words had no meaning. I felt he might be crazy after being alone for so long.

He said that he’d been on Captain Flint’s pirate ship, and that three years before he had come back with some seamen to look for Flint’s treasure. When they could not find it, the sailors went off, leaving him alone on the island. When he’d seen our ship, he’d thought that Flint had returned.

I told him that Flint was dead, but some of Flint’s old shipmates were among our crew. When I spoke of Silver, his face filled with terror. I told him we should have to fight the pirates, and he promised to help us if we would take him back home with us.

Our talk was interrupted by gunfire, and we ran towards the sound. Among the trees we came upon a high wooden fence that ran round a cleared space in the forest. I saw the Union Jack flying from a log house in the clearing.

I knew that my friends must have left the ship and were defending themselves in the log house. The battle with the pirates had begun! The Hispaniola lay in the inlet with the Jolly Roger at her mast. On the beach a group of drunken sailors lolled on the sand.

I parted from Ben Gunn and climbed the stockade to join my friends in the log house. They were delighted to see me, for they had feared for my safety.

Dr Livesey told me what had happened after I left the ship. The captain had decided that the time had come to fight it out with the pirates. From Flint’s treasure chart he knew about the log house. Dr Livesey and one of our men had rowed ashore to find it. There was a freshwater spring by the house, and the high fence made it a good place to defend. They had then returned to the Hispaniola to collect the rest of the faithful crew. They had loaded a small boat with food and ammunition and made a dash for the shore.

There was a small group of pirates still on board the ship. When they saw what was happening, they had opened fire on the little boat, and it had sunk in shallow water. The Squire’s party had waded ashore, but lost half the stores and gunpowder.

The doctor was sure the pirates would soon give up the fight. He said they would get ill from too much rum, and with disease from their swampy campsite.

I told my friends what had happened to me, and of my meeting with Ben Gunn. Dr Livesey wanted to know all about him, for we clearly needed help. The leaders of our party were at their wits’ end. We had little food, and the pirates could soon starve us out. I was worn out at the end of a hard day, and soon fell asleep.

The Attack

In the morning I awoke to the sound of bustling and voices. Long John Silver himself was approaching the stockade, carrying a white flag. Captain Smollett, suspecting a trick, ordered us to be ready to fire.

Silver said he had come to make terms to end the fighting, and he was allowed to come inside the stockade. In the log house, he told the captain that the pirates intended to get the treasure. In exchange for the treasure map, he offered to take us to a safe place off the island.

Captain Smollett was not a man to make terms with pirates. Angrily, he told Silver that he and the pirates were done for. Without the map, they had no hope of finding the treasure. And with or without the treasure, not one of them could plot a course to sail the ship home. He ordered Silver to leave. Fury blazed in Silver’s eyes, and with curses and threats, he disappeared into the wood.

We now prepared for the coming attack, and sat and waited in the baking heat. All at once musket shots hit the log house, and pirates leapt from the woods and climbed the stockade. Shouts and groans, shots and flashes filled the air.

I grabbed a cutlass and dashed outside to join the fight. In moments we had fought the pirates back. Those who were not killed or injured scurried to the woods for shelter.

We ran back to the log house to take stock. Two of our men had been lost, and the captain was badly injured. We were certain there would be a second attack, so we waited and watched. But all remained quiet.

In the lull, I saw Dr Livesey quietly leave the stockade. I guessed he was going to Ben Gunn. Still no attack came, and I grew weary of waiting. The heat, the blood and the dust made me restless, and I longed to get away to a cool, fresh place. I knew the captain would never let me go, so when no one was looking I put two pistols in my pocket and slipped out.

I ran to the shore and felt the cool wind and watched the surf tumbling and tossing its foam along the beach. Climbing a hill, I could look down on the calm inlet where the Hispaniola lay on an unusually flat sea. In a little boat beside her, I could make out Long John Silver, talking and laughing with two men on the ship. No words reached me, but the screeching of Silver’s parrot was carried on the wind.

About sundown, Silver shoved off for shore and the two men left on board went below deck. I was sure that if the pirates could not find the treasure they would sail away without us. A plan began to grow in my mind.

Ben Gunn had told me that he had made a boat and hidden it near the shore. If I could get to the Hispaniola, I could cut her anchor ropes. She would drift away to another part of the shore, and the pirates would be unable to escape from the island.

I searched in the bushes and, to my joy, found the hidden boat. It was made of goatskin, stretched over a wooden frame, but it was so flimsy I wondered if it were strong enough to hold me.

With darkness, fog crept into the inlet. It was a perfect night for my plan. I pushed away from the shore and drifted silently towards the Hispaniola.

My Sea Adventure Begins

As I came alongside the ship I could hear loud, drunken voices. Israel Hands was shouting at another man. They were not only the worse for rum, it was plain that they were also angry. On the shore I could see the glow of the fire in the pirates’ camp. Someone there was singing the song I’d heard so often before:

‘Fifteen men on the Dead Man’s Chest—
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest—
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!’

Strand by strand, I cut the anchor rope, and the ship began to swing and slide away to the open sea. As she slid past me, I could see into the cabin. Israel Hands and the ship’s watchman were fighting. They were too busy to feel the movement of the ship. I lay flat in my little boat, praying that I should not be seen.

For hours, as the sea grew rough again, I was tossed on the waves. I must have slept, for it was broad daylight when I awoke. My boat had drifted along the coast, but I could see no landing place under the rocky cliffs. I could only let my boat drift on and hope to find a sandy shore. The hot sun and the salt from the sea spray had given me a raging thirst. I wanted to be on shore in the cool shade of the trees.

As I rounded a headland, the sight before me made me forget my cares. No more than half a mile away lay the Hispaniola! Her sails were set, but by the way she turned and drifted, it was clear no one was steering her. If the pirates were drunk and I could get aboard, I might be able to capture the ship!

I paddled fast, but with the wind filling her sails, the Hispaniola kept her lead. At last I had my chance. The breeze fell, and she turned in the current and stopped. I came alongside and leapt aboard. The wind took her sails, and she rushed down on a wave and sank my little boat. I had no way of escape now. I moved quietly on the deck among empty bottles. Not a soul was to be seen.

At length I saw two pirates. One was clearly dead, lying on the bloodstained deck. The other was Israel Hands, wounded and groaning and unable to stand. When he saw me he begged for brandy to ease his pain. I went below into the wrecked cabin to find some, and after a drink he seemed stronger.

I agreed to give Hands food and to patch up his wounds, if he would tell me how to steer the ship into a safe harbour. For the time being, we needed each other. But I did not trust his odd smile as he watched me.

He asked me to fetch some wine from the cabin, and when he thought I had gone below, he staggered painfully across the deck and picked up a knife he had hidden in his jacket. This was all I needed to know. Hands was now armed, and I knew he meant to kill me as soon as we brought the ship ashore.

In the Enemy’s Camp

The beaching was difficult. It took all my care, for I did not want to damage the ship, and so I was too busy to keep watch on Hands all the time. Suddenly I was aware of danger. Perhaps I had heard a creak or seen a shadow moving with the tail of my eye, but sure enough, when I looked round, there was Hands, already halfway towards me. A dagger was in his right hand.

I dashed away and pulled a pistol from my pocket. Turning, I took aim and fired. There was no flash, no sound. The powder was wet with seawater.

The ship gave a sudden lurch as she hit the shore, and we were both thrown off our feet. Before Hands could stand again, I had climbed the mast. Safe for the moment, I sat in the rigging and put dry powder in my pistols. Hands was slowly coming up the mast after me, his dagger between his teeth.

‘One more step, Mr Hands,’ I called, ‘and I’ll blow your brains out!’ He stopped and in a flash flung his dagger. I felt a sharp pain and found myself pinned to the mast by the shoulder. The sudden pain and shock made me fire both my pistols. With a cry, Israel Hands fell headfirst into the water.

I felt sick and faint and shut my eyes until I became calm. When I had freed myself, I found that the wound was not very deep, in spite of the blood that ran down my arm. In the cabin I found bandages to bind up my wound.

It was sunset, and I waded ashore. All I wanted was to be back with my friends. I hoped that the capture of the Hispaniola would be enough for them to forgive me for having left them.

The moon helped me to find my way to the stockade. I walked carefully and silently and dropped over the fence. There was no sound. The man on watch had not heard me. I crept to the log house and stepped inside.

Suddenly a shrill voice rang out in the darkness: ‘Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!’ Silver’s parrot!

Instead of finding my friends, I had come face to face with the pirates – and capture. By the light of a flaming torch, I saw Silver and the five men who were still alive.

There was no sign of my friends, and my first thought was that they had all been killed. But I soon learned that this was not so.

While I had been away, Dr Livesey had gone to the pirates and told them that, because the ship had gone, he and his party had given up the search for treasure. The log house and everything in it, even the treasure map, was handed over to the pirates and my friends had walked out into the woods.

This news puzzled me. I could not understand why they had given up without a fight.

Long John Silver was still the pirate leader, but he seemed less cheerful than before. It was clear that the men did not obey him willingly.

If they should pick a new leader, Silver knew that they would kill him. His only hope of being saved was to be on Captain Smollett’s side.

He promised to protect me from the pirates, if I would put in a good word for him with the captain. But if the pirates guessed he had changed sides, I knew they would finish us both. Our lives depended on keeping our plan secret.

The next morning Dr Livesey came to the log house to see to the sick and wounded. He was surprised to see me with the pirates, but he said nothing. He went on his rounds, giving out medicine and dressing wounds. When he had finished, he asked to speak to me alone.

The doctor spoke harshly to me at first, telling me it was cowardly to have joined the pirates. But when I told him of all that had happened to me, his view quickly changed.

When he heard that the Hispaniola was safe, the doctor’s eyes opened wide in amazement.

I told him of Silver’s danger, and he agreed to take him home with us if Silver would keep me safe. We were in a tight corner, and it looked as if there was little hope of getting out of it. At last the doctor shook my hand and said he was off to get help.

By now the pirates were growing restless to go out and find the treasure. But there was a question in Silver’s mind – he wondered why the treasure map should have been given to him. He knew that somewhere there must be a trick, and he dared not let the pirates guess his thoughts.

As we sat round the fire, eating breakfast, Silver chatted away, telling the pirates how rich they would all be when they had found the treasure. He painted such a picture that I thought he believed his own words.

The Treasure Hunt

With picks and shovels, we set out to find Captain Flint’s treasure. The men were armed to the teeth. Silver had two guns and a cutlass. As I was a prisoner, I had a rope tied round my waist. Silver held the other end. In spite of his promise to keep me safe, I did not trust him.

As we went, the men talked about the chart. On the back of it was written:

‘Tall tree, Spy-glass Shoulder, bearing a point to the N. of N.N.E.
Skeleton Island E.S.E. and by E.
Ten feet.’

So we were looking for a tall tree on a hill. The men were in high spirits, and Silver and I could not keep up with them.

Suddenly there was a shout from one of the men in front. The others ran towards him, full of hope. But it was not treasure he had found. At the foot of the tree lay a human skeleton.

The men looked down in horror. The few rags of clothing that hung on the bones showed that the man had been a sailor. The skeleton was stretched out straight, the feet pointing one way and the arms, raised above the head, pointing in the opposite direction.

‘This here’s one of Flint’s little jokes!’ cried Silver. ‘These bones point E.S.E. and by E. This is one of the men he killed, and he’s laid him here to point the way!’

The men felt a chill in their hearts, for they had all lived in fear of Flint. ‘But he’s dead,’ said one of them.

‘Aye, sure enough, he’s dead and gone below,’ said another pirate. ‘But if ever a ghost walked, it would be Flint’s.’

‘Aye,’ said a third man. ‘I tell you, I don’t like to hear “Fifteen Men” sung now, for it was the only song he ever sang.’

Silver put an end to their talk and we moved on, but I noticed that now the men spoke softly and kept together. Just the thought of Flint was enough to fill them with terror.

At the top of the hill we rested. In whispers, the men still talked of Flint.

‘Ah, well,’ said Silver, ‘you praise your stars he’s dead.’

Suddenly, from the trees ahead, a thin, trembling voice struck up the well-known song:

‘Fifteen men on the Dead Man’s Chest—
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!’

I have never seen men so dreadfully affected as these pirates. The men were rooted to the spot. The colour drained from their faces as they stared ahead in terror. Even Silver was shaking, but he was the first to pull himself together.

‘I’m here to get that treasure!’ he roared. ‘I was never feared of Flint in his life, and by the Powers, I’ll face him dead!’

Long John Silver gave them all fresh heart, and they picked up their tools and set off again.

We soon saw ahead a huge tree that stood high above the others. The thought of what lay near that tree made the men’s fears fade, and they moved faster. Silver hobbled on his crutch.

I could tell from the evil in his eyes that, if he got his hands on the gold, he would cut all our throats and sail away.

The men now broke into a run, but not for long. They had come to the edge of a pit. At the bottom lay bits of wood and the broken handle of a pickaxe. It was clear for all to see that the treasure had gone!

The pirates jumped down into the hole and began to dig with their hands. Silver knew that they would turn on him at any moment.

‘We’re in a tight spot, Jim,’ he whispered. The look of hate in his eyes had gone. With the pirates against him, he needed me again. Once more he had changed sides.

The pirates scrambled out of the pit and stood facing Silver and me. The leader raised his arm to charge, but before a blow was struck, three musket shots rang out and two pirates fell. The three men left ran for their lives. From out of the wood ran the doctor and Ben Gunn, who had saved us in the nick of time.

Last Words

Silver and I were taken to Ben Gunn’s cave, where the rest of our party was waiting. It was a happy moment for me to see all my friends again. And my friends were glad to move out of the log house to the safety of Gunn’s cave.

We now learned the answer to the question that had puzzled Silver and me. Dr Livesey had found out that Ben Gunn, alone on the island for so long, had discovered the treasure and taken it to his cave. The map, then, was useless.

That morning, Ben Gunn had watched from the woods as the pirates set out to seek the treasure. It was his voice that had struck terror into their hearts with his ghostly song!

That night the captain, still weak from his wounds, along with Squire Trelawney, Dr Livesey and the rest of us, feasted and laughed and rested. Long John Silver, smiling quietly, became the polite and willing seaman I had first known.

The next day we began to pack the treasure into sacks, in preparation for loading it aboard the Hispaniola. There was a great mass of gold coins, from every part of the world, and transporting it all was a difficult task. It took several days to move this great fortune. With the treasure stowed, and plenty of water, we were ready to weigh anchor and set sail for home.

Though we were not certain of their whereabouts, we knew there were three pirates still on the island. After some deliberation, we decided to leave them a good stock of food, along with some medicine, clothing and tools, so that they could last until some ship found them.

And so we set sail. I cannot express the joy I felt as I watched Treasure Island melt into the distance and disappear over the horizon.

We had not enough crew to sail the ship home and so we made for the nearest port in South America to find some extra men. We dropped anchor and went ashore, happy to be once again in a bright, busy place.

It was nearly dawn when the doctor, the Squire and I returned to the Hispaniola. Ben Gunn met us and told us that Silver had left the ship. He had taken a small amount of the treasure and gone. We were all glad to be rid of him. Our one wish now was to reach Bristol safely.

We had a good voyage home. When we arrived, we shared out the treasure and settled back into our daily lives. Ben Gunn got a thousand pounds, which he spent or lost in less than three weeks. He was given a little job in the village, and he still sings in the church choir every Sunday.

Of Long John Silver we never heard anything again, and he has gone right out of my life. But sometimes, in a bad dream, I fancy I hear his parrot, Captain Flint, still screeching, ‘Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!’

The Boy Who Never Grew Up

This is the story of Peter Pan, a boy who never grew up, but ran away to live in the Neverland when he was small. The Neverland is an island that children visit in their dreams and where anything can happen. To reach it, you have to be able to fly.

Peter could fly. Sometimes, when he felt lonely, he went back to the human world and listened at nursery windows to the bedtime stories mothers told their children.

Three children called Wendy, Michael and John Darling lived with their parents near Kensington Gardens. (This was one of Peter’s favourite places. You can see a statue of him there.)

The children had an unusual nurse, called Nana. She was a big Newfoundland dog who slept in a kennel in the nursery. If she had been on guard the night Peter came, this story would never have happened.

Mrs Darling was a happy woman, who hugged and kissed her children often. Mr Darling was more serious. He worried a lot and did not think it was a good idea to have a dog for a nursemaid.

Mrs Darling used to tell the children bedtime stories every night. Then she tucked them in and lit their night-lights.

As she tidied up the nursery, she would wonder what they were dreaming about. If Mrs Darling could have seen into their minds, she would have seen a picture map of the island of Neverland. It had a lagoon, a pirate ship, flamingos and a coral reef. There was a forest with wild beasts, savages and fairies.

Mrs Darling was puzzled because the children talked so much about a boy called Peter Pan. They said he ‘lived with the fairies’. Mr Darling thought it must be some silly tale Nana had told them. ‘It all comes from having a dog as a nurse!’ he grumbled.

One day Mrs Darling found some leaves just under the nursery window. ‘Peter must have dropped them,’ said Wendy. ‘He’s so untidy!’

‘But it’s three floors up – how could he get here?’ said Mrs Darling. ‘You must have been dreaming!’

But Wendy had not been dreaming. The very next night Mrs Darling was sewing by the nursery fire and had almost fallen asleep. The window blew open, and a boy dropped in on the floor!

He was dressed all in leaves. A strange little light followed him, darting round the room like a living thing. It woke Mrs Darling, who knew at once that the boy was Peter Pan.

She cried out in alarm and Nana sprang at the boy, who leapt back through the window. Nana closed it, just catching his shadow by the feet. Nana picked up the shadow and took it to her mistress, who rolled it up and put it in a drawer.

The following Friday, Mr and Mrs Darling were invited to a party at a house a few doors away. Mr Darling was very cross with Nana, and decided she had to be chained up in the yard.

Mrs Darling was worried because Nana kept barking. ‘That’s not her usual bark!’ she said. ‘She only barks like that when there’s danger!’

‘Nonsense!’ said Mr Darling. ‘Hurry up, or we’ll be late for the party!’

As the front door closed, a bright light appeared in the nursery, darting into drawers and cupboards. When the light stayed still for a moment you could see it was not a light at all, but a fairy called Tinker Bell.

The next moment Peter himself came through the window. ‘Come on, Tink, wherever you are,’ he said, ‘and show me where my shadow is!’

Tinker Bell told him it was in a drawer. She spoke in a golden tinkle, like a chime of tiny bells.

Peter pulled out his shadow and shut the drawer, forgetting that Tinker Bell was still inside. He tried to stick his shadow back on with water, then with soap, but nothing worked. He was in despair, when Wendy woke up. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

‘My shadow won’t stick on!’ Peter complained.

‘Give it to me,’ said Wendy. ‘I’ll sew it on!’

Peter was thrilled to have his shadow back, and Wendy was so pleased that she offered him a kiss. Peter had never heard of a kiss, but he thought it must be a present so he held out his hand. Wendy gave him her thimble instead, and for ever after that, he called a kiss a ‘thimble’!

In return for the thimble, Peter gave Wendy an acorn button from his coat. She put it on a chain round her neck. Later on it would save her life!

Peter told Wendy all about how he had run away to live with the fairies in Kensington Gardens. Now he lived in the Neverland with the Lost Boys. The Lost Boys were children who had fallen out of their prams when their nurses were not looking. Nobody claimed them, so they were sent to the Neverland.

Wendy asked about the fairies.

‘Once, a baby’s laugh broke into a thousand pieces, explained Peter. ‘Each piece became a fairy. But now children don’t believe in fairies so much. Every time a child says ‘I don’t believe in fairies’, a fairy somewhere drops down dead!’

That reminded Peter of Tinker Bell, who was still shut up in the drawer! She zoomed out in a fury, and buzzed round the room.

Wendy thought Tink was lovely, but Tinker Bell hated Wendy and was jealous of her. When Peter gave Wendy a ‘thimble’, Tinker Bell gave her hair a spiteful tug.

Follow Me!

By now Michael and John were awake. Peter told them all about the gang of Lost Boys, of which he was the captain, and their fights with the pirates.

‘Aren’t there any Lost Girls?’ asked Wendy.

‘No, said Peter. ‘We haven’t any sisters or mothers to tell us stories and mend our clothes.’

‘You poor boy!’ exclaimed Wendy. ‘I know lots of stories, and I could mend your clothes.

That was just what Peter wanted – to take Wendy and her brothers back to the Neverland with him. He promised to teach them how to fly.

In the yard, Nana was barking like mad. She knew something was wrong. At last she broke her chain and galloped up to the house where the party was. She got Mr and Mrs Darling, and they all ran down the street as fast as they could.

By now Peter had blown magic dust all over the children and was showing them how to fly. ‘Just wriggle your shoulders and let go!’ he cried, swooping round the room. One by one, they took off from their beds and followed him.

‘I flewed! I flewed!’ shouted Michael.

‘Look at me!’ called John, bumping against the ceiling. He was wearing his Sunday top hat, and looked very funny.

‘Oh, lovely!’ cried Wendy, in midair.

Mr and Mrs Darling and Nana could see the nursery window lit up. Against the curtains, they saw the shadows of three little figures, circling round and round in the air. No, not three – four!

They rushed upstairs and burst into the room. But they were too late. Peter had said ‘Follow me!’ and soared out into the night with John, Michael and Wendy right behind him.

The Flight

Peter said that the way to the Neverland was easy: ‘Second to the right, and straight on till morning!’ But it seemed to take a very long time.

At first it was fun. The children circled round church spires and raced each other among the clouds. But as they went on, they grew tired and hungry. Peter stole food for them from the beaks of passing birds, but it was not like a proper meal.

At last they saw the Neverland below. It was just as they had imagined. They saw the lagoon, the Redskins’ wigwams, and the wild beasts.

As they flew down through the treetops, Peter told the children about the pirates and their dreaded leader, Captain Hook. The children had all heard of him – he was the most bloodthirsty buccaneer who had ever sailed the Spanish Main.

‘I cut off his right hand!’ said Peter proudly. ‘Now he has an iron hook instead, and he uses it like a claw!’ The children shivered.

‘One thing you must promise,’ Peter went on. ‘If we meet Captain Hook in open fight, leave me to deal with him.’ The children promised.

Just then Tinker Bell flew up, to warn them that the pirates had loaded their big gun, Big Tom. They could tell where Peter and his friends were by Tink’s light, so the children hid her in John’s top hat, which Wendy carried.

Suddenly there was an enormous bang! The gun had been fired. The blast blew them on to their backs and scattered them, and Tinker Bell and Wendy were separated from the rest.

This was Tink’s great chance. She was still jealous of Wendy and wanted to get rid of her. So, with her golden tinkle, she led Wendy away in quite the wrong direction.

The Island Comes True

Now that Peter was coming back, the Neverland came to life. The Lost Boys set out to look for their captain, and the pirates were looking for the Lost Boys. The Redskins were stalking the pirates, and the wild beasts were tracking the Redskins!

There were six Lost Boys: Tootles (the unlucky one), Nibs (the cheerful one), Slightly (the conceited one), Curly (was always in trouble!) and the twins. They crept along behind the bushes in single file, clutching their daggers.

Then came the pirates, with their evil looks, some wearing gold earrings, others tattooed all over. They had names like Cecco, Bill Jukes and Gentleman Starkey. The worst one, because he looked so meek and mild, was Smee the Bo’sun. He had a cutlass named Jimmy Corkscrew, which he wriggled in his victims’ wounds.

Their leader, Captain Jas (short for James) Hook, was the most evil rogue of all. He feared nothing except the sight of his own blood, which was an ugly colour. He treated his men like dogs and smoked two cigars at once, in a special holder.

Hook had a lean, scowling face and long black ringlets. He thought he looked like Charles II, and dressed like him. If any of his crew annoyed him, out shot his hook. There would be a tearing sound, a scream, then the body would be tossed aside. Hook was Peter Pan’s greatest enemy.

On the trail of the pirates stole the Redskins. Great Big Little Panther was their chief, and Tiger Lily their princess. She was a beautiful, proud maiden, as brave as any warrior.

Next came a procession of wild beasts; man-eating lions, tigers and the like, all with their tongues hanging out for food. Last of all, there came an enormous crocodile.

The Lost Boys reached their underground home, a cave hollowed out under the roots of seven tall trees. Each trunk had a door – a hole just big enough for a boy to wriggle into. There was one door for each boy, and one for Peter Pan. So far, the pirates had not discovered them.

Although the pirates tried to catch Nibs as he ran away, Hook held them back. ‘One is no good!’ he said. ‘I want all of them!’ And he sat down to wait while the pirates searched the wood.

As he sat, Hook told Smee how Peter Pan had cut off his hand. ‘He threw it to a passing crocodile,’ Hook snarled. ‘It liked the taste so much that it has followed me ever since, licking its lips for the rest of me! Luckily it also swallowed a clock. It goes tick, tick, tick, so I can hear it coming and escape!’

‘One day,’ said Smee, ‘the clock will run down!’

‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ said Hook.

Just then, a familiar sound reached Hook’s ears.

Tick, tick, tick, tick – it was the crocodile!

Hook and Smee dashed away, and the boys came out of hiding. Nibs rushed back, pointing up at the sky. Something like a great white bird was floating their way. They didn’t know that it was actually Wendy in her nightie.

Tinker Bell was flying all around her, pinching her. Wendy was moaning ‘Poor Wendy!’ to herself.

‘Peter wants you to shoot the Wendy bird!’ Tink called to the boys.

The boys always did what Peter wanted, so they hurried away for their bows and arrows. Tootles was the first back. ‘Quick, Tootles, quick!’ Tink screamed. ‘Peter will be so pleased!’

Tootles fitted an arrow to his bow and fired. Wendy fluttered to the ground, the arrow in her heart.

The Little House and the Home Underground

When the boys crowded round to see the Wendy bird, they discovered to their horror that it was a lady.

‘A mother to take care of us,’ said the twins, ‘and Tootles has shot her.’

It was all part of Tootles’ bad luck. He would have run away if Peter hadn’t arrived.

‘I’ve brought you all a mother,’ he said joyfully. ‘Haven’t you seen her? She flew this way.’

The Lost Boys stood aside and showed him Wendy.

‘She is dead,’ said Peter. ‘Who shot her?’

‘I did,’ Tootles confessed. ‘Now kill me.’

Peter was raising the arrow to strike, when Nibs shouted, ‘The Wendy lady moved her arm!’

‘Poor Tootles!’ Wendy moaned.

‘She’s alive!’ Peter cried. He knelt down and saw that the acorn button he had given her had stopped the arrow and saved her life.

‘Listen to Tink!’ said Curly. ‘She’s crying because Wendy’s not dead,’

When the boys told Peter what Tinker Bell had done, Peter was furious.

‘I am no longer your friend, Tinker Bell,’ he said. ‘Go away for ever!’

Wendy moved her arm again.

‘Well,’ said Peter, ‘go away for a week, then’

Tinker Bell wasn’t the least bit grateful to Wendy. She just flew away, as cross as two sticks.

The Lost Boys didn’t know what they should do for Wendy. They couldn’t carry her down into the cave.

‘I know!’ said Peter. ‘We’ll build a little house all round her!’

The boys rushed off to fetch branches, bedding and firewood, and Michael and John helped.

Bit by bit the house was built, with a green moss carpet, red walls, and a door and windows. At last all it needed was a chimney. Peter knocked the top out of John’s Sunday hat and fitted it on the roof. It began to smoke at once!

‘This is your own little house!’ said Peter.

‘And we are your children!’ said the Lost Boys.

The cave where Peter and the boys lived was one enormous room. There was a huge bed slung against the wall, which was let down at night. The Lost Boys slept in it like sardines in a tin.

Tinker Bell had her own tiny room, elegantly furnished with a couch, a dressing-table and a mirror. There was even a crystal chandelier.

Wendy did all the cooking for the boys. They ate island food – roast pig, breadfruit and bananas. Wendy liked to sit by the fire at night, when the boys were asleep, darning their socks.

The Mermaids’ Lagoon

At the edge of the island there was a vivid blue lagoon where mermaids swam. The mermaids lazed on the rocks, combing their long hair and splashing the children with their tails if they came too near. On moonlit nights they sang strange wailing songs, and on those nights it was dangerous to go near the lagoon.

A never-bird had built her nest in one of the trees by the shore and laid six eggs in it. One day the nest fell and floated out on the lagoon. The mother bird still sat there, drifting about in her nest like a little boat. Peter warned the boys to be careful not to disturb her.

There was a huge black rock out at sea, which was covered with water at high tide. Pirates used to tie-up their captives and leave them there to drown, so it was called Marooners’ Rock.

One afternoon, when Wendy and the boys were having a nap on the rock, the sun went in, and the lagoon became cold and unfriendly. Wendy tried not to be afraid, even when she heard the sound of a boat approaching.

Peter, always on the alert, smelled danger. ‘Pirates!’ he cried. ‘Everybody dive!’

The next moment, the rock was empty.

The pirate dinghy, rowed by Smee and Starkey, drew near. They had captured Tiger Lily just as she was boarding the pirate ship with a knife between her teeth. They had tied her hands and feet and were going to leave her on the rock to drown. She showed no fear, for she was a chief’s daughter.

Peter wanted to save Tiger Lily and have some fun as well. ‘Ahoy, you lubbers!’ he called, imitating Hook’s voice. ‘Set the Redskin free!’

‘But Captain, said Smee, ‘you told us…’

‘At once, d’you hear,’ cried Peter, ‘or I’ll plunge my hook in you!’

‘Better do what the Captain orders,’ muttered Starkey nervously. So they cut Tiger Lily’s ropes and she slipped like an eel into the sea.

Suddenly a cry came across the water. ‘Boat ahoy!’ It was the real Captain Hook, swimming out to join his men. He had come to talk about a plan to capture Peter and his gang.

‘We may never get the better of those boys now they have a mother to care for them!’ he said.

‘I know, said Smee. ‘But if we capture her, she can be our mother!’

‘A capital idea!’ cried Hook. ‘But first we must catch the boys and make them walk the plank!’

Hook was furious to find that his men had let Tiger Lily go. ‘I gave no such orders!’ he said.

When they told him about the mysterious voice, Hook was frightened. ‘Spirit that haunts this dark lagoon,’ he called, ‘dost hear me?’

Peter could not keep quiet. ‘Odds, bobs, hammer and tongs, I hear you!’ he called.

‘Who are you, stranger?’ asked Hook hoarsely.

‘I am James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger!’

‘If you are Hook, then who am I?’

‘You’re a codfish!’

Hook went pale at this insult. He knew now who was playing this trick on him. ‘Are you a boy?’ he called. ‘Are you a wonderful boy?’

‘Yes, yes!’ boasted Peter. ‘I am! I’m Peter Pan!’

At once Hook ordered his men to attack. ‘Take him, dead or alive!’ he cried. Peter whistled up the boys, and they all came to his aid, armed with daggers.

They put up a good fight. Before long, Smee and Starkey were swimming for their lives towards the pirate ship.

Peter had ordered the boys to leave Hook to him, so they rowed for shore in the pirate dinghy.

Peter and Hook came out of the water at the same moment. They stared grimly at one another as they climbed onto the rock, and Peter snatched a knife from Hook’s belt. Then, seeing that Hook was lower down than he was, Peter gave him a hand up, so they could fight fairly. But the treacherous Hook bit Peter’s hand. Peter was so shocked that he dropped his guard, and Hook was able to claw him twice.

The tide was rising rapidly, so Hook struck out for his ship, leaving Peter wounded. As the tide rose, Peter’s heart beat like a drum. A strange smile came to his face, and he thought, ‘To die will be an awfully big adventure!’

But Peter did not die. The never-bird came by in her nest and rescued him. When he returned to the cave, he saw campfires. The Redskins had come to protect the boys from pirate attack.

Peter had saved Tiger Lily, and there was nothing they would not do for him and his friends.

Wendy’s Story

Safe inside their cave, the children sat round for a make-believe tea. They were so excited that Wendy decided to settle them down with a story.

She began to tell a story that Peter hated. It was about three children who had a nurse called Nana, and how they flew away one night, and how their father and mother missed them. ‘Think how sad they were when they saw the empty beds!’ she said.

Then she came to the part that Peter hated most. She told them how much mothers love their children. ‘The mother always left the window open for the children to fly back in. So they stayed away for years and had a lovely time’

Peter was very upset. ‘Wendy, you’re wrong about mothers!’ he said. Then he told them what had happened when he went back home. ‘I thought, like you, that my mother would always keep the window open for me. So I stayed away a long time. But when I flew back, my mother had forgotten me. The window was shut, and there was another little boy in my bed!’

Michael and John began to cry, afraid that their mother might forget them too. They begged Wendy to take them home. The Lost Boys said they wanted to come too, and Wendy promised she would ask Mr and Mrs Darling to adopt them.

Peter was very hurt, but he was too proud to show it. And he would not make Wendy stay against her will. ‘I will ask the Redskins to show you the way through the wood, and Tinker Bell can guide you when you fly over the sea,’ he said, stoutly.

‘But aren’t you coming too?’ asked Wendy.

‘Oh, no!’ exclaimed Peter. ‘They would make me grow up! I want to stay a little boy always, and have fun!’

Then Peter and Wendy shook hands – Peter did not even give Wendy a ‘thimble’. Wendy measured out a dose of his medicine (it was only water), and put the glass next to his bed. ‘Promise me you’ll take it, she said in a motherly way.

‘I promise. Now lead the way, Tinker Bell!’ he ordered.

Tink darted up the nearest tree, but nobody followed her. For it was at that moment that the pirates made their dreadful attack on the Redskins. The air was full of shrieks and howls and the clash of steel!

Below, there was dead silence. Wendy fell to her knees, and the boys turned to Peter, holding out their arms and begging him not to desert them.

Peter seized his trusty sword, ready to do battle.

The Children are Carried Off

Hook and his fiendish crew had taken the Redskins by surprise, so the pirates had a mean advantage. Almost the whole Redskin tribe perished. Only the chief, Tiger Lily and a few warriors managed to fight their way out.

But Hook’s work was not yet over. There was hatred in his wicked heart for Peter Pan.

Hook knew that if the boys heard the Redskins’ tom-tom, they would come out of hiding, thinking the Redskins had won. So he signalled to Smee, who beat the tom-tom twice.

‘It’s a Redskin victory!’ cried Peter.

The boys cheered and got ready to leave the cave, saying a last goodbye to Peter.

As they came up, one by one, each was caught by a pirate and trussed up like a chicken.

Then the pirates bundled the children into the little Wendy House and carried it on their shoulders to the Jolly Roger.

Hook was left behind. He looked carefully at the trees and discovered that one of them was more hollow than the others. He could just squeeze in. He could not open the door, but he peered through a chink and saw Peter lying peacefully asleep on the great bed. For a moment his cold heart was touched. Then he spied Peter’s medicine, which he could just reach.

Hook always carried a deadly poison on him. Reaching through the chink, he poured five drops into Peter’s medicine.

Then he climbed out of the tree like some evil spirit. Pulling his hat over his eyes, he wrapped his black cloak around him and stole away through the wood.

Do You Believe in Fairies?

At ten o’clock that night, Peter was awakened by a tiny knock on the door. It was Tinker Bell, who told him that Wendy and the boys had been captured and taken to the pirate ship.

‘I’ll rescue them!’ cried Peter, grabbing his sword. ‘But first I must take my medicine!’

‘No! No!’ cried Tinker Bell. ‘It’s poisoned!’

‘How could it be?’ said Peter. ‘Nobody has been down here.’ He put the glass to his lips. But brave Tinker Bell had heard Hook talking to himself in the wood, and flew between Peter’s mouth and the glass. She drank the poison herself, in one gulp.

‘It was poisoned!’ she cried. ‘I shall die!’

She fluttered feebly to her tiny couch and lay there gasping. Her light was getting weaker every moment. Soon it would go out.

Tink was whispering something. Peter bent down to listen. ‘If enough children believe in fairies,’ she gasped, ‘I might get better again!’

What could Peter do? Children everywhere were asleep. Then he thought of those who were dreaming of Neverland. He called, ‘If you believe in fairies, clap your hands! Don’t let Tink die!’

There was silence. Then there was a faint sound of clapping. It grew and grew until it filled the cave. Tink was saved! Her voice grew strong and she flashed round the room, as merry as ever.

‘And now to rescue Wendy!’ cried Peter.

He came up through the tree into the moonlit wood. No one was about, except for the crocodile, which never slept, passing down below.

Peter swore a terrible oath: ‘It’s Hook or me this time!’

The Fight on the Pirate Ship

Aboard the Jolly Roger, Hook had the boys dragged up from the hold. He promised to spare two of them if they would join the crew.

‘Would we be free subjects of the king?’ asked John, bravely.

‘You would have to swear “Down with the king!”’ growled Hook.

‘Then we say No!’ was the answer.

‘Bring out the plank!’ roared Hook. ‘And fetch their mother!’

Wendy was brought up to see her boys walk to their death in the briny ocean.

‘Have you any last message for your children?’ sneered Hook.

Wendy spoke out firmly: ‘All your mothers hope you will die bravely like true Englishmen!’

‘Tie her to the mast!’ Hook screamed.

The boys’ eyes were on the plank. It was the last walk they would ever take. There was a grim silence – but it was broken by a strange sound: the tick, tick, tick of the crocodile!

Hook collapsed with fear. He crawled along the deck, crying to his men, ‘Hide me! Hide me!’

As the crew gathered round Hook, the boys looked over the side and saw – not the crocodile, but Peter Pan! He was ticking! Signalling to the boys not to give him away, he slipped aboard and ran to hide in the captain’s cabin.

When the ticking stopped, Hook grew brave again. He lined up the boys for a flogging and sent Jukes to his cabin for the cat-o’-nine-tails.

Jukes entered the dark room.

Suddenly there was a terrible scream; a blood-curdling crow followed. Jukes had been killed by Peter!

Two more pirates suffered the same fate.

After this the crew lost their nerve, and no one else would venture forth. So Hook sent in the eight boys. ‘Let them kill each other!’ he snarled.

This was just what Peter wanted. He unlocked the boys’ chains with a key he had found, and armed them with Hook’s weapons. Then, while the pirates’ backs were turned, they all crept out on deck. Peter freed Wendy and, wrapping himself in her cloak, took her place at the mast. Then he let out a terrific ‘Cockadoodle-doo!’

The pirates, frightened out of their wits, spun round. ‘’Tis an unlucky ship, they cried, ‘that has a captain with a hook!’

‘’Tis because we have a woman on board,’ said Hook quickly. ‘Fling her over the side!’

‘No one can save you now, missy!’ said one of the kinder pirates sadly.

‘Here’s one who can!’ cried Peter, throwing aside the cloak. ‘Peter Pan!’

A great fight began. Swords and cutlasses clashed, and bodies tumbled into the water. Soon only Hook was left. His sword flashed like a circle of fire.

‘Leave him to me, boys!’ cried Peter. Although he was smaller, Peter was nimbler and soon wounded Hook. At the sight of his own blood, Hook turned pale and dropped his sword. He rushed to set fire to the powder magazine and blow the ship up. But Peter bravely snatched the torch from his hand and threw it into the sea.

Hook backed away from the menacing Peter and climbed on the bulwark. Peter aimed a kick at him, and Hook lost his balance, slithering straight down into the sea.

The crocodile, whose clock had run down at last, had silently followed Peter and was waiting patiently below. As Hook reached the water, the crocodile opened his jaws – and finally had the rest of Hook for his supper.

The Return Home

That night the boys slept in the pirates’ bunks, and next morning they set off for home, with Peter as captain.

Meanwhile, Mr and Mrs Darling were still grieving over their lost children. Mr Darling was sure it was all his fault for chaining up Nana, and, to punish himself, he slept in her kennel.

One night he was feeling especially miserable, so he asked Mrs Darling to play the piano in the room next door to cheer him up. ‘And please shut the window,’ he said. ‘It’s draughty in the kennel.’

‘You know I can’t do that, dear!’ said Mrs Darling. ‘The children might come home!’

But the children were already on their way! They had crossed the sea now and were flying the last bit of the way. Peter and Tinker Bell were ahead of the others, as Peter had a plan. When they found the open window and flew in, Peter was going to shut the window, so that Wendy would think her mother had forgotten her, and go back with him to the Neverland.

But Mrs Darling was sitting sadly at the piano, with tears trickling down her face.

‘She is fond of Wendy too!’ thought Peter miserably. ‘We can’t both have her. What had I better do?’

Then he gave in and said, ‘Oh, come on, Tink. We’ll let them in.’

So Wendy and Michael and John slipped into the nursery. They decided to get into bed and pretend they had never been away.

When Mrs Darling came in and saw that the beds were full, she thought it was a dream! Then the children spoke to her. She put her arms round them, woke her husband and called Nana.

Peter Pan had had many strange experiences that other children could never know, but now he was looking through the window at the one joy he could never share.

The Darlings adopted the Lost Boys, and Mrs Darling let Wendy go back to the Neverland once a year to help Peter with the spring-cleaning.

Peter came back to visit Wendy too. He had not much idea of time, so he did not come every year. Once he left it so long that when he next came, Wendy was grown up and had a little girl of her own, called Jane.

You can guess what happened. Jane wanted to go back with him, and Wendy let her.

As Peter never grew up, one year Jane’s daughter was the one who went. And so it will go on, as long as there are children, and the Neverland, and Peter Pan!