`` Years have rolled by , and who is this elegant lady of uncertain age alighting at London Station ? '' `` O Wendy , who is she ? '' cried Nibs , every bit as excited as if he did n't know . `` Can it be -- yes -- no -- it is -- the fair Wendy ! '' `` Oh ! '' `` And who are the two noble portly figures accompanying her , now grown to man 's estate ? Can they be John and Michael ? They are ! '' `` Oh ! '' '' ` See , dear brothers , ' says Wendy pointing upwards , ` there is the window still standing open . Ah , now we are rewarded for our sublime faith in a mother 's love . ' So up they flew to their mummy and daddy , and pen can not describe the happy scene , over which we draw a veil . '' That was the story , and they were as pleased with it as the fair narrator herself . Everything just as it should be , you see . Off we skip like the most heartless things in the world , which is what children are , but so attractive ; and we have an entirely selfish time , and then when we have need of special attention we nobly return for it , confident that we shall be rewarded instead of smacked . So great indeed was their faith in a mother 's love that they felt they could afford to be callous for a bit longer . But there was one there who knew better , and when Wendy finished he uttered a hollow groan . `` What is it , Peter ? '' she cried , running to him , thinking he was ill . She felt him solicitously , lower down than his chest .
`` Where is it , XXXXX ? ''
John London Michael Nibs Peter Wendy Years children love mummy