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and hung up his shirt for a sail. At the same moment the bird fluttered down upon the hat and once more sat snugly on her eggs. She drifted in one direction, and he was borne off in another, both cheering. Of course when Peter landed he beached his barque and hung up his shirt for a sail. At the same moment the bird fluttered down upon the hat and once more sat snugly on her eggs. She drifted in one direction, and he was borne off in another, both cheering. Of course when Peter landed he beached his barque [small ship, actually the Never Birds nest in this particular case in point] in a place where the bird would easily find it; but the hat was such a great success that she abandoned the nest. in a place where the bird would easily find it; but the hat was such a great success that she abandoned the nest.

There were two large white eggs, and Peter lifted them up and reflected. The bird covered her face with her wings, so as not to see the last of them; but she could not help peeping between the feathers. I forget whether I have told you that there was a stave on the rock, driven into it by some buccaneers of long ago to mark the site of buried treasure. The had discovered the glittering hoard, and when in a mischievous mood used to fling showers of moidores, diamonds, pearls and pieces of eight to the

the world: the mermaids calling to the moon. Peter was not quite like other boys; but he was afraid at last. A tremour ran through him, like a shudder passing over the sea; but on the sea one shudder follows another till there are hundreds of them, and Peter felt just the one. Next moment he was standing erect on the rock again, with that smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, To die will be an awfully big adventure. Chapter 9 THE NEVER BIRD The last sound Peter heard before he was quite alone were the mermaids retiring one by one to their bedchambers under the sea. He was too far away to hear their doors

to—swim—to—it. What are you quacking about? Peter answered. Why dont you let the nest drift as usual? I—want—you— the bird said, and repeated it all over. Then Peter tried slow and distinct. What—are—you—quacking—about? and so on. The Never bird became irritated; they have very short tempers. You dunderheaded little jay she screamed, Why dont you do as I tell you? Peter felt that she was calling him names, and at a venture he retorted hotly: So are you Then rather curiously they both snapped out the same