her. Immediately his spirits sank in the strangest way.

"John," he said, shuddering, "it's most beastly stuff. It's
that nasty, sticky, sweet kind."

"It will soon be over, father," John said cheerily, and then in
rushed Wendy with the medicine in a glass.

"I have been as quick as I could," she panted.

"You have been wonderfully quick," her father retorted, with a
vindictive politeness that was quite thrown away upon her.
"Michael first," he said doggedly.

"Father first," said Michael, who was of a suspicious nature.

"I shall be sick, you know," Mr. Darling said threateningly.

"Come on, father," said John.

"Hold your tongue, John," his father rapped out.

Wendy was quite puzzled. "I thought you took it quite easily,
father."

"That is not the point," he retorted. "The point is, that
there is more in my glass than in Michael's spoon." His proud
heart was nearly bursting. "And it isn't fair: I would say it
though it were with my last breath; it isn't fair."