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into her arms. Such a little thing for Mr. and Mrs. Darling and Nana to recall now, but not so little if that was to be Michaels last night in the nursery. They go on with their recollections. It was then that I rushed in like a tornado, wasnt it? Mr. Darling would say, scorning himself; and indeed he had been like a tornado. Perhaps there was some excuse for him. He, too, had been dressing for the party, and all had gone well with him until he came to his tie. It is an astounding thing to have to tell,
real occasion. Wendy had danced with joy, just as the real Mrs. Darling must have done. Then John was born, with the extra pomp that he conceived due to the birth of a male, and Michael came from his bath to ask to be born also, but John said brutally that they did not want any more. Michael had nearly cried. Nobody wants me, he said, and of course the lady in the evening-dress could not stand that. I do, she said, I so want a third child. Boy or girl? asked Michael, not too hopefully. Boy. Then he had leapt
but this man, though he knew about stocks and shares, had no real mastery of his tie. Sometimes the thing yielded to him without a contest, but there were occasions when it would have been better for the house if he had swallowed his pride and used a made-up tie. This was such an occasion. He came rushing into the nursery with the crumpled little brute of a tie in his hand. Why, what is the matter, father dear? Matter he yelled; he really yelled. This tie, it will not tie. He became dangerously sarcastic. Not
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