"Come, Peter, come; collect yourself," said his mother, who was standing by the bed where poor Peter was sitting straight up with an anxious face, down which big tears were running.
"You're here, Peter, you know; in your own little bed," said his mother, putting her arms round him.
Peter began to take heart a little, and looked round him with big wide-open eyes.
"But how did I get here?" he asked, still stupefied with sleep.
"You've never been anywhere else, you know," said his mother.
"But I know the Parsnip-man took me away, and I rode on the mouse, too," said little Peter.
"Nonsense, nonsense; you're still dreaming. There, get up and put on your clothes."
"But I want the other clothes, the beautiful blue dress. These things are so dreadfully patched and darned," said Peter, in a lamentable tone. "And I have brought something nice for you too, Mother dear. It's in the pockets of the blue coat."
"You haven't got a blue coat, child," said his mother. "Come, come. Put on your clothes and come into the warm kitchen." And she carried Peter out into the arm-chair by the breakfast-table, and began to pour out some coffee for him. And she put the Parsnip-man (who had been lying all night behind the stove) into his hand. "See," she continued, "here's your Parsnip-man, about whom you have been dreaming all this fine nonsense."
Peter examined it with eager eyes. It looked exactly the same as it had done the night before.