I wish I had a dar-ling house, The litt-lest ev-er
seen. With fun-ny lit-tle red walls, And roof of mos-sy green;
and the Boys fetched logs out of the forest, and a grate and a rug from the underground cave, and built a beautiful home for her out of wood, and tarpaulin, and make-believe. They made a chimney out of John's tall hat, which he had been Londony enough to bring with him, and they made a splendid knocker out of the sole of one of Tootles' boots.
When it was finished—it was built round Wendy as she lay on the ground—Peter knocked solemnly at the door, and Wendy opened it and came out, very pleased and happy. The Lost Boys knelt before her, and begged her to be their Mother, and tuck them in at night-time, and tell them stories before they went to bed. She said that she was not quite sure if she could, but she would do her best, if only Peter would be Father, and that now, if they liked to come in, she would tell them the story of Cinderella.
THE LOST BOYS KNELT BEFORE HER.
In they bundled, one after the other, to listen to the tale. And they were so big, and the house was so small, that they must have been packed like sardines inside. But a sort of cosy feeling like that was, I expect, just what they wanted, and they were very happy.
