Peter alighted softly on the wooden rail at the foot of the bed and had a good look at her . She lay with her head on her hand , and the hollow in the pillow was like a nest lined with her brown wavy hair . He remembered , though he had long forgotten it , that she always gave her hair a holiday at night . How sweet the frills of her nightgown were ! He was very glad she was such a pretty mother . But she looked sad , and he knew why she looked sad . One of her arms moved as if it wanted to go round something , and he knew what it wanted to go round . ' O mother ! ' said Peter to himself , ` if you just knew who is sitting on the rail at the foot of the bed . ' Very gently he patted the little mound that her feet made , and he could see by her face that she liked it . He knew he had but to say ` Mother ' ever so softly , and she would wake up . They always wake up at once if it is you that says their name . Then she would give such a joyous cry and squeeze him tight . How nice that would be to him , but oh ! how exquisitely delicious it would be to her . That , I am afraid , is how Peter regarded it . In returning to his mother he never doubted that he was giving her the greatest treat a woman can have . Nothing can be more splendid , he thought , than to have a little boy of your own . How proud of him they are ! and very right and proper , too .
-LSB- Illustration : The fairies sit round on mushrooms , and at first they are well behaved -RSB- But why does XXXXX sit so long on the rail ; why does he not tell his mother that he has come back ?
Mother Nothing Peter arms boy head holiday night nightgown right