Late last night, while the Cheshire Cat Moon gleefully grinned in the star-bright sky outside the tall nursery window, Peter and Alice silently slipped out of their beds and, hushing each other in whispered voices, crept away in search of Gulliver. Hitching a ride in a pea green boat, they sailed down the grey-green Thames with the Owl and the Pussycat.

"Where are you going?" asked the curious little tabby. "Who do you seek?" queried the kitty to the kiddies.

"Who? Who?" echoed the Owl in a quandary of sorts. His assistance he would give to the two searching children although his date with the Pussycat had floundered without a flourish.

"Gulliver has gone away," cried the Lad of Pan in an anguish-filled voice. "We have to find him," added little blond Alice, with beseeching tears brimming her eyes. "He is our friend and he might need our help."

Sympathetic green slanted eyes meeting knowledgeable brown orbs, the eloping lovers gave up their romantic tryst to aid the runaway youngsters with nary a word spoken. The pea green vessel plowed forward upon the steady river as an unseen hand drew the undulating waters in charcoal at the approach of the eager travelers.