For Andrew xx C.H. For my dad, Stuart, who was the wisest grown-up I ever knew, even though he never quite grew up. Missed every day. S.W. Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie first published by Hodder & Stoughton 1911 This verse adaptation by Caryl Hart, illustrated by Sarah Warburton, first published 2018 by Nosy Crow Ltd The Crow’s Nest, 14 Baden Place, Crosby Row, London SE1 1YW www.nosycrow.com ISBN 978 1 78800 007 9 Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd.
Peter Pan published by arrangement with Great Ormond Street Hospital Children’s Charity Verse adaptation copyright © Caryl Hart 2018 Illustrations copyright © Sarah Warburton 2018 The rights of Caryl Hart to be identified as the author and of Sarah Warburton to be identified as the illustrator of this work have been asserted. All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of Nosy Crow Ltd. A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Printed in China Papers used by Nosy Crow are made from wood grown in sustainable forests. 135798642
Original story by
J.M. Barrie
eter an
t Retold in rhyme by Illustrated by
Caryl Hart
Sarah Warburton
I’m going to tell the story of a boy called
PE T E R PA N who never, ever wanted to grow up to be a man. He had the best adventures and he fought some wicked foes. So – quickly! – turn the page to find out how this story goes . . .
Our tale begins in London in a house on Bloomsbury Street. Inside there lived a family, the nicest you could meet. The lovely Mrs Darling was as sweet as raspberry pie and Mr Darling worked to keep his family warm and dry. They had a dog called Nana, who was always kind and good. She loved the Darlings faithfully, as only a dog could. Upstairs, three Darling children were all tucked up in their beds, waiting for their mother’s kiss upon their sleepy heads.
That evening, Mrs Darling read a lovely bedtime story. Soon Wendy, John and Michael were all fast asleep and snorey. But someone else was listening from the window ledge outside,
when . . .
who o sh!
. . . the cold wind picked him up and tumbled him inside.
Poor Mrs Darling gasped and then she stared in disbelief. But Peter Pan, for it was he, just scowled and gnashed his teeth. A tiny light danced round his head, but Nana gave a bark and chased the strange intruder back outside into the dark.
But, oh! A ragged shadow, look! Left crumpled on the floor! Kind Mrs Darling scooped it up and tucked it in a drawer. A grave mistake she never would have made if she had known that Peter Pan would come back when the children were alone.