Peter thought of everything. "Slightly," he cried, "fetch a doctor."
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"Ay, ay," said Slightly at once, and disappeared, scratching his head. But he knew Peter must be obeyed, and he returned in a moment, wearing John's hat and looking solemn.
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"Please, sir," said Peter, going to him, "are you a doctor?"
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The difference between him and the other boys at such a time was that they knew it was make-believe, while to him make-believe and true were exactly the same thing. This sometimes troubled them, as when they had to make-believe that they had had their dinners.
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If they broke down in their make-believe he rapped them on the knuckles.
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"Yes, my little man," Slightly anxiously replied, who had chapped knuckles.
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"Please, sir," Peter explained, "a lady lies very ill."
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She was lying at their feet, but Slightly had the sense not to see her.
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"Tut, tut, tut," he said, "where does she lie?"
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"In yonder glade."
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"I will put a glass thing in her mouth," said Slightly, and he made-believe to do it, while Peter waited. It was an anxious moment when the glass thing was withdrawn.
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"How is she?" inquired Peter.
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"Tut, tut, tut," said Slightly, "this has cured her."
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"I am glad!" Peter cried.
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"I will call again in the evening," Slightly said; "give her beef tea out of a cup with a spout to it;" but after he had returned the hat to John he blew big breaths, which was his habit on escaping from a difficulty.
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In the meantime the wood had been alive with the sound of axes; almost everything needed for a cosy dwelling already lay at Wendy's feet.
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"If only we knew," said one, "the kind of house she likes best."
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"Peter," shouted another, "she is moving in her sleep."
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"Her mouth opens," cried a third, looking respectfully into it. "Oh, lovely!"
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"Perhaps she is going to sing in her sleep," said Peter. "Wendy, sing the kind of house you would like to have."
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Immediately, without opening her eyes, Wendy began to sing:
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"I wish I had a pretty house,
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The littlest ever seen,
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With funny little red walls
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