Питер Пен / Peter Pan - стр. 2
Mrs. Darling told her husband how glad she was to have such a treasure as Nana for a nurse. “You see how very useful Nana is,” concluded Mrs. Darling, as the faithful dog came in with Michael’s bottle of cough mixture. But Michael refused to take his medicine. “Won’t; won’t!” Michael cried naughtily. Mrs. Darling left the room to get a chocolate for him.
“Michael, when I was your age,” said Mr. Darling, “I took medicine without a murmur. I said, ‘Thank you, kind parents, for giving me bottles to make me well[11].’”
He really thought this was true, and Wendy believed it also, and she said, to encourage Michael, “That medicine you sometimes take, father, is much nastier, isn’t it?”
“Ever so much nastier[12],” Mr. Darling said bravely, “and I am ready to take it now as an example to you, Michael, but I lost the bottle.”
He did not exactly lose it; he climbed in the night to the top of the wardrobe and hid it there. What he did not know was that the faithful Liza found it, and put it back on his table.
“I know where it is, father,” Wendy cried. “I’ll bring it!”
“Very well,” said Mr. Darling, “we shall see who is the braver.”
Wendy returned with the medicine in a glass.
“You were wonderfully quick,” her father said. “Michael first,” he added doggedly.
“Father first,” said Michael, who was very suspicious.
“Come on, father,” said John.
“Hold your tongue[13], John.”
Wendy was quite puzzled. “I thought you took it quite easily, father.”
“That is not the point[14],” he retorted. “The point is, that there is more in my glass than in Michael’s spoon. And it isn’t fair.”
“Father, I am waiting,” said Michael coldly.
“It’s all very well to say you are waiting; so am I waiting.”
“Father’s a cowardly custard[15].”
“So are you a cowardly custard.”
“I’m not frightened.”
“Neither am I frightened.”
“Well, then, take it.”
“Well, then, you take it.”
Wendy had a splendid idea. “Why not both take it at the same time?”
“Certainly,” said Mr. Darling. “Are you ready, Michael?”
“One, two, three,” cried Wendy; Michael took his medicine like a man, but Mr. Darling only pretended to, and quietly hid the glass behind his back.
John cried, “Father didn’t take his!”
“O father!” Wendy exclaimed.
“What do you mean by ‘O father’?” Mr. Darling demanded. “I wanted to take my medicine, but I – I did not have enough time.”
“Look here, all of you,” he said, as soon as[16] Nana went into the bathroom. “I have a splendid joke. I shall pour my medicine into Nana’s bowl, and she will drink it, thinking it is milk!”
It was the colour of milk; but the children did not have their father’s sense of humour, and they looked at him reproachfully as he poured the medicine into Nana’s bowl. Mrs. Darling and Nana returned.
“Nana, good dog,” he said, “I put some milk into your bowl, Nana.”
Nana wagged her tail, ran to the medicine, and began to lap it. Then she gave Mrs. Darling such a look, not an angry look: she showed him the great red tear, and crept into her kennel.
The children, who loved their old nurse very dearly, were terribly distressed. Mr. Darling smelt the bowl. “O George,” she said, “it’s your medicine!”
“It was only a joke,” he answered, and Wendy hugged Nana.
“Oh, that dog…” cried Mr. Darling. “I refuse to allow that dog to rule in my nursery! The proper place for this dog is the yard…”