`` It was poisoned , Peter , '' she told him softly ; `` and now I am going to be dead . '' `` O Tink , did you drink it to save me ? '' `` Yes . '' `` But why , Tink ? '' Her wings would scarcely carry her now , but in reply she alighted on his shoulder and gave his nose a loving bite . She whispered in his ear `` You silly ass , '' and then , tottering to her chamber , lay down on the bed . His head almost filled the fourth wall of her little room as he knelt near her in distress . Every moment her light was growing fainter ; and he knew that if it went out she would be no more . She liked his tears so much that she put out her beautiful finger and let them run over it . Her voice was so low that at first he could not make out what she said . Then he made it out . She was saying that she thought she could get well again if children believed in fairies . Peter flung out his arms . There were no children there , and it was night time ; but he addressed all who might be dreaming of the Neverland , and who were therefore nearer to him than you think : boys and girls in their nighties , and naked papooses in their baskets hung from trees . `` Do you believe ? '' he cried . Tink sat up in bed almost briskly to listen to her fate . She fancied she heard answers in the affirmative , and then again she was n't sure . `` What do you think ? '' she asked Peter .
`` If you XXXXX , '' he shouted to them , `` clap your hands ; do n't let Tink die . ''
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