Why should we be chucked out and left outside people's doors, just
because they're tired of us? The thing that matters is that we're not
tired of them.... To-morrow, Thomas, you and I are going down to a place
called Astleys, in Berkshire, to visit some friends of ours. If they
don't want us, they can just lump us; good for them. Why should they
always have only the things they want? Be ready at nine, old man, and
we'll catch a train as soon after that as may be."

Thomas laughed, thinking it a splendid plan. He had never seen Astleys in
Berkshire, but he knew it to be a good place, from Peter's voice when he
mentioned it.

"But I don't want to excite you so late at night," said Peter, "so don't
think any more about it, but go to sleep, if you've finished that milk.
Does your head ache? Mine does. That's the worst of weak heads; they
always ache just when things are getting interesting. But I don't care;
we're going to have things--things to like; we're going to get hold of
them somehow, if we die in gaol for it; and that's worth a headache or
two. Someone says something about having nothing and yet possessing all
things; it's one of the things with no meaning that people do say, and
that make me so angry. It ought to be having nothing and _then_
possessing all things; because that's the way it's going to be with us.
Good night, Thomas; you may go to sleep now."

Thomas did so; and Peter lay on the sofa and gazed at the daffodils in
the brown jars that filled the room with light.