So, Wendy took Basil and I inside her home in Bloomsbury Street, where she recited to us one of her favorites stories...about the Boy Who Never Grew Up, Peter Pan.

Now, the reason Peter Pan chose Wendy's house was because, aside from her, there are other members of her family who believe in him, like her mother...

"George, dear, do hurry. We mustn't be late for the party, you know."

...who believed that Peter Pan was the supreme of the authority, but Mr. Darling...

"Mary, unless I find my cuff links, we don't go to the party. And if we don't go to the party, I can never show my face in the office again…and if I can never show...AHH!"

Well, let's just say he was a practical man.

Wendy's brothers, however, John and Michael, believed Peter Pan was a real person and made him the hero of all their nursery games, which Basil and I was watched while standing at the center table.

"Blast you, Peter Pan!" John shouted as he swung his wooden sword at Michael, who swung back, exclaiming. "Take that! Give up, Captain Hook? Give up?"

"Never!" John yelled as he used the hook on his clothes hanger to trip his little brother. "I'll teach you cut off my hand!"

"Oh, no, John." giggled Wendy, now in her nightdress, once she saw this. "It was the left hand."

"Oh, of course. I knew that." John said as he placed the hanger on his left hand, then resumed the fight.

Wendy came to our table, placing a small plate of more cheese in front of me and Basil.

"And here's a little something extra to keep your strength up." she said, setting a bunch of grapes onto the plate.

Now, not only did Wendy believe, she was the supreme authority on Peter Pan and all his marvelous adventures.

"Oh, Nana, must we always take that nasty tonic?"

Nana, the nursemaid, being a dog, kept her opinions to herself and viewed the whole affair with a certain tolerance.

Basil and I kept out of sight as she placed a tray with a bottle of tonic, three glasses of water, and three spoons onto the table, then went about putting the pillows back to John's bed, which she remade, while John was still play-fighting with Michael, calling out while chasing him. "Impudent boy, I'll slash you to ribbons!"

"Not if I do first, you codfish!" Michael called back, hitting his his older brother with his sword before knocking his glasses off.

"Ouch!" groaned John "Careful with my glasses, Michael!"

"Sorry, John." apologized Michael, who hopped from bed to bed with John following after him, calling while swinging his sword. "You'll never leave this ship alive!"

"Oh, yes, I will." Michael said as he swung back at him.

"How fortunate we are that we're treated to a dinner and a show." I said to Basil, who replied. "Well, I suppose I'll give our hostess credit for her hospitality."

"Scuttle me bones, boy, I'll slit your gizzard!" John shouted as he thrust his sword at Michael, only to tear through the sheet that was used as a ship's sail.

"Oh, no, you won't!" Michael said as he whacked his sword at John's own. "Back! Back! Back, you villain!"

"Insolent pup!" yelled John.

Nana was pouring the tonic into three spoons when she heard what John said, not knowing that some of the tonic dropped on me and Basil, who was about to throw up upon tasting it, but swallowed it quickly, much to his disgust.

I, however, threw up inside my cap, for I couldn't stand the taste of that tonic.

"Aha! Now I've got you!" John exclaimed, for he almost stabbed Michael, who taunted. "You didn't either. You never touched me! Take that! And that! And that!"

Finally, Michael thrusted his sword at John, who moaned as he plopped on the floor.

"Boys, boys, less noise, please." Mr. Darling said as he walked inside the nursery, knocking over a castle of bricks, much to Nana's dismay.

"Oh, hello, Father." greeted John.

"You old bilge rat!" called Michael, whom Mr. Darling heard while rummaging through the dresser. "Wha...wha...what? Now, see here, Michael..."

"Oh, not you, Father. You see, he's Peter Pan." explained John.

"And John's Captain Hook." added Michael.

"Ah, yes, of course." said Mr. Darling, who searched through the dresser. "Uh, have you seen my cuff..."

As he turned, Mr. Darling bumped into Nana, who was in the process of building the block castle, only to knock them over again.

"Oh, Nana, for goodness sake!" Mr. Darling cried frustratingly. "Where are those cuff links?"

While still at sword play with Michael, John asked. "Cuff links, you say?"

"Yes, the gold ones." explained Mr. Darling, who went to search through John's bed.

Basil and I watched him, then stared at each other, then at the bag where the Crown Jewels were kept.

"Michael, the buried treasure, where is this?" whispered John.

"I don't know." Michael replied shaking his head.

"The map, then. Where's the treasure map?"

"It got lost."

"Good heavens! My shirtfront!" cried Mr. Darling when he saw what was under John's bed.

"Hurray! You found it! You found it!" cheered Michael.

"Yes, so I have." Mr. Darling said as he put his shirtfront on. "And hereafter…"

Michael tried to reach, but Mr. Darling pried his fingers away, saying. "Don't pull me, Michael! This is my last clean..."

As he spoke, the shirtfront was sprung up, showing what was drawn in there.

"No." he gasped. "No!"

"George, really." Mrs Darling said as she entered the room. "The more you lollygag, the more late we'll…"

"Mary, look what those boys did!" Mr. Darling whined, showing his wife the treasure map drawn on the shirtfront, which she looked at, then scolded at the…

"Boys!"

"It's only chalk, Father." Michael explained softly.

"Michael..." Mrs. Darling began, but John stopped her, saying. "It's not his fault. It's in the story. And Wendy said…"

"Wendy? Of course. I should've known." said Mr. Darling, who stormed to the doorway.

"Wendy?" he called. "Wendy!"

"Yes, Father?" Wendy answered as she returned to the nursery, carrying a bowl and pitcher, which she set on the soap stand.

"Would you kindly expl…" Mr. Darling started to ask, but Wendy could hardly listen, for upon noticing the gown her mother was wearing, she ran to her, saying. "Oh, Mother, you look simply lovely!"

"Thank you, dear." Mrs Darling replied flatteringly.

"Wendy?" Mr. Darling called again, but Wendy was still admiring her mother's dress.

"Just my old gown made over," she said while giving herself a twirl. "But it did turn out…"

"Wendy Moira Angela Darling, I..." Mr. Darling called, feeling rather annoyed.

Wendy turned upon hearing him, noticing the map drawing in his shirtfront, asking. "Why, Father, what have you done to your shirt?"

"What have I…" Mr. Darling said incredulously, then let out a frustrated howl.

"Now, George, really. It comes right off." his wife assured while wiping the map drawing from the shirtfront free.

"That's no excuse." complained Mr. Darling, who turned towards Wendy, who was putting some of the toys away in the chest, where John and Michael did the same.

"Wendy, haven't I warned you?" he scolded. "Stuffing the boys' heads with a lot of silly stories."

"Oh, but they aren't!" protested Wendy.

"I say they are! Captain Crook, Peter Pirate…"

"Peter Pan, Father." corrected Wendy.

"Pan, pirate, poppycock!" Mr. Darling scoffed as he fixed his collar.

Wendy, John, and Michael tried to explain, but their father's response was still…

"Absolute poppycock! And let me warn you, this ridicu..."

"Now, George." Mrs. Darling interrupted as she adjusted his tie.

"Now, George…Now, George…." Mr. Darling repeated in a mocking way. "Well, now, George will have his say!"

"Please, dear." his wife began, but he stopped her, saying. "Mary, the girl's growing up. It's high time she had a room of her own!"

"Father!" cried Wendy.

"George!" gasped Mrs. Darling.

"What?" John asked, his eyes widening with disbelief.

"No!" cried Michael.

I gasped but Basil put his hand on my mouth, whispering. "Shhh!"

"I mean it!" said Mr. Darling. "Young lady, this is your last night in the nursery! And that's my last word on the matter!"

As he turned, however, Mr. Darling tripped on Nana, who yelped, trying to get out of his way, only to fall onto the block castle.

She tried to get away, but ended up sending a toy wagon under Mr. Darling's foot.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" he yowled while skating across the floor before the wagon handle got caught in the rug.

Basil and I looked away as Mr. Darling smashed onto the dresser.

"Ohh!" Mrs. Darling and the children exclaimed worryingly.

Mr. Darling thought that was for him, only to see his family hurrying towards Nana, who had bumped into the wall.

"Poor Nana!" they all said, comforting her.

"Poor Nana?" repeated Mr. Darling, who went from being flabbergasted to livid as he jumped to his feet."This is the last straw! Out! Out, I say!"

"No, Father, no!" Michael begged while holding onto Nana, whom his father grabbed away forcefully, saying. "Yes! There'll be no more dogs for nursemaids in this house!"

"Poor Nana." I echoed while watching alongside Basil as Mr. Darling dragged Nana out of the nursery.