Peter Pan

The second star to the right

Shines in the night for you

To tell you that the dreams you plan

Really can come true

The second star to the right

Shines with a light so rare

And if it's Never Land you need

Its light will lead you there

Twinkle, twinkle little star

So we'll know where you are

Gleaming in the skies above

Lead us to the land

We dream of

And when our journey is through

Each time we say

Good night

We'll thank the little star that shines

The second from

The right

All this has happened before.

And it will all happen again.

But this time it happened in London.

It happened on a quiet street in Bloomsbury.

That corner house over there is the home of the Darling family.

And Peter Pan chose this particular house

because there were people here who believed in him.

There was Mrs Darling.

George, dear, do hurry. We mustn't be late for the party, you know.

Mrs Darling believed that Peter Pan was the spirit of youth.

But Mr Darling...

Mary, unless I find my cuff links we don't go to the party.

And if we don't go to the party, I can never show my face in the office again.

And if I can never...

Well, Mr Darling was a practical man.

The boys, however, John and Michael,

believed Peter Pan was a real person

and made him the hero of all their nursery games.

Blast you, Peter Pan!

Take that! Give up, Captain Hook? Give up'?

Never! I'll teach you to cutoff me hand!

Oh, no, John. It was the left hand.

Yes. Thank you, Wendy.

Wendy, the eldest, not only believed,

she was the supreme authority on Peter Pan

and all his marvellous adventures.

Nana, must we always take that nasty tonic?

Nana, the nursemaid, being a dog,

kept her opinions to herself

and viewed the whole affair with a certain tolerance.

Take that!

Insolent boy! I'll slash you to ribbons!

And I'll cut you to pieces.

- Careful, Michael, my glasses. - I'm sorry, John.

You'll never leave this ship alive!

Oh, yes, I will.

Take that!

Scuttle me bones, boy, I'll slit your gizzard.

Oh, no, you won't.

Back, back, back, you villain!

- Insolent pup! - Wicked pirate!

L 90¢ ya.

You didn't either. You never touched me.

Take that and that! And that!

Boys, boys, less noise, please.

- Oh, hello, Father. - You old bilge rat.

What? Now, see here, Michael...

Not you, Father. You see, he's Peter Pan.

- And John's Captain Hook. - Yes, yes, of course.

Have you seen my cuff...

Nana, for goodness sake!

Where are those cuff links?

- Cuff links, Father? - Yes, the gold ones.

Michael, the buried treasure. Where is it?

- I don't know. - The map then.

- Where's the treasure map? - It got lost.

- Good heavens, my shirt front! - Hurray! You found it!

- You found it! - Yes, so I have.

And hereafter... Don't paw me, Michael.

This is my last clean...

No!

No!

George, dear, we must hurry or we'll be...

- Mary, look! - George.

- It's only chalk, Father. - Why, Michael.

It's not his fault. It's in the story.

- And Wendy says... - Wendy? Story?

I might have known. Wendy!

- Wendy! - Yes, Father?

- Would you kindly ex... - Oh, Mother!

- You look simply lovely. - Thank you, dear.

- Wendy. - Just my old gown made over.

- But it did turn out rather nicely... - Mary, if you don't mind.

Why, Father, what have you done to your shirt?

What have I...

Now, George, really. It comes right off.

That's no excuse. Wendy, haven't I warned you?

Stuffing the boys' heads with a lot of silly stories.

- Oh, but they aren't. - I say they are!

Captain Crook! Peter Pirate!

Peter Pan, Father.

Pan! Pirate! Poppycock!

- No, Father. - You don't understand.

Absolute poppycock! And let me tell you, this ridiculous...

Now, George.

"Now, George."

"Now, George!"

Well, "Now, George," will have his say!

Please, dear.

Mary, the child's growing up.

It's high time she had a room of her own.

- Father! - George!

- What? - No!

I mean it!

Young lady, this is your last night in the nursery.

And that's my last word on the matter...

No!

No!

Poor Nana.

"Poor Nana?"

This is the last straw!

Out! Out, I say!

- No, Father, no! - Yes!

There'll be no more dogs for nursemaids in this house!

Goodbye, Nana.

"Poor Nana." Oh, yes, "Poor Nana."

But "Poor Father?" Oh, no!

Blast it! Where is that rope?

Thank you.

Dash it all, Nana, don't look at me like that.

It's nothing personal. It's just that

Well, you're not really a nurse at all. You're... Well, a dog.

And the children aren't puppies. They're people.

And sooner or later, Nana, people have to grow up.

But, Mother, I don't want to grow up.

Now, dear, don't worry about it any more tonight.

He called Peter Pan "absolute poppycock."

I'm sure he didn't mean it, John. Father was just upset.

Poor Nana, out there all alone.

No more tears, Michael. It's a warm night.

She'll be all right.

- Mother. - What is it, dear?

- Buried treasure. - Now, children.

Don't judge your father too harshly.

After all, he really loves you very much.

Don't lock it, Mother. He might come back.

_IIHe?ll - Yes, Peter Pan.

You see, I found something that belongs to him.

And what's that?

His shadow.

"Shadow?"

Nana had it.

But I took it away.

Yes, of course.

Good night, dear.

But, George, do you think the children will be safe without Nana?

Safe? Of course they'll be safe. Why not'?

Well, Wendy said something about a shadow, and I...

- Shadow? Whose shadow? - Peter Pan's.

Peter Pan... Peter Pan!

You don't say. Goodness gracious, whatever shall we do?

- But, George... - Sound the alarm!

- Call Scotland Yard! - There must have been someone.

Mary, of all the impossible, childish fiddle-f addle.

Peter Pan indeed.

How can we expect the children to grow up and be practical...

- George... -...when you're as bad as they are.

No wonder Wendy gets these idiotic ideas.

Over there, Tink, in its den.

Is it there?

Must be here somewhere.

Tink!

Stop playing and help me find my shadow.

Shadow. Oh, shadow.

Peter Pan! Oh, Peter!

I knew you'd come back. I saved your shadow for you.

I do hope it isn't rumpled.

You look exactly the way I thought you would.

A little taller perhaps. But then...

You can't stick it on with soap, Peter.

It needs sewing. That's the proper way to do it.

Come to think of it, I've never thought about it, sewing shadows.

I knew it was your shadow the minute I saw it.

I said to myself, "I'll put it away for him until he comes back.

"He's sure to come back." And you did, didn't you, Peter?

After all, one can't leave his shadow lying about

and not miss it sooner or later. Don't you agree?

What I don't understand is how Nana got it in the first place.

She really isn't... Sit down. It won't take long.

She really isn't vicious. She's a wonderful nurse.

- Father says... - Girls talk too much.

Yes, girls talk too...

Well, get on with it, girl.

My name is Wendy.

- Wendy Moira Angela Darl... - Wendy's enough.

But how did Nana get your shadow, Peter?

Jumped at me the other night at the window.

Well, what were you doing there?

I came to listen to the stories.

My stories? But they're all about you.

Of course. That's why I like 'em. I tell 'em to the Lost Boys.