“Is Wendy asleep?” they asked.
“Yes.”
“John,” Michael proposed, “let us wake her and get her to make supper for us;” but as he said it some of the other boys rushed on carrying branches for the building of the house.
“Look at them!” he cried.
“Curly,” said Peter in his most captainy voice, “see that these boys help in the building of the house.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Build a house?” exclaimed John.
“For the Wendy,” said Curly.
“For Wendy?” John said, aghast. “Why, she is only a girl.”
“That,” explained Curly, “is why we are her servants.”
“You? Wendy’s servants!”
“Yes,” said Peter, “and you also. Away with them.”
The astounded brothers were dragged away to hack and hew and carry. “Chairs and a fender first,” Peter ordered. “Then we shall build the house round them.”
“Ay,” said Slightly, “that is how a house is built; it all comes back to me.”
Peter thought of everything. “Slightly,” he ordered, “fetch a doctor.”
“Ay, ay,” said Slightly at once, and disappeared, scratching his head. But he knew Peter must be obeyed, and he returned in a moment,