"No, it wasn't," Jane said gravely, "it was like this;" and she did it ever so much better than her mother.
Wendy was a little startled. "My darling, how can you know?"
"I often hear it when I am sleeping," Jane said.
"Ah yes, many girls hear it when they are sleeping, but I was the only one who heard it awake."
"Lucky you," said Jane.
And then one night came the tragedy.
It was the spring of the year, and the story had been told for the night, and Jane was now asleep in her bed.
Wendy was sitting on the floor, very close to the fire, so as to see to darn, for there was no other light in the nursery; and while she sat darning she heard a crow.
Then the window blew open as of old, and Peter dropped in on the floor.
He was exactly the same as ever, and Wendy saw at once that he still had all his first teeth.