WhyYou’llLoveThisBookbyCameronMackintosh

MaryPoppinsdelightsinlettingusknowthatshe“neverexplainsanything”andyettheBanksfamilyfallunderherspellandotherfamiliesallovertheworldareputbacktogetheragainbytheworld’smostfamousnanny.

IfellinlovewithMaryPoppinsandJulieAndrewsin1964,justafterIleftschool,whenIwenttoseeWaltDisney’smagicalfilm.Onreadingthecredits,IrealisedthefilmwasbasedonbooksbyP.L.TraverswhichIthenreadavidly,discovering that thereweremanymorestoriesandcharacters than those in thefilm.Her forthright,quirkily funnydialoguestayedwithme,brought to life inmyheadbyJulie’sbrilliant,no-nonsensedeliveryinthefilm.Inthelate1970’sItried, likemanyotherproducers, to see if I couldget the stage rights toMaryPoppins–but tonoavail.Over theyears, Ioftenused to thinkofMarybut itwasn’tuntil1993whenIwasintroducedtohercreator, theformidablePamelaTravers, that I found that shewouldn’t explainanything tomeeither.By thenPamelawasafrail,butextremelysharp,93yearoldlady,livinginherChelseahouse,inastreetlookingremarkablylikeCherryTreeLane,eyeingmeupanddown, asking me lots of questions as she batted away my own. I felt likeMichaelandJaneBanks,waitingtobetold“you’lldo”.

Afterseveralmeetings,PameladecidedthatIreallywasinterestedinturningher books into a stage musical, rather than just putting the film on stage –something she had refused to allow for decades, wanting a new and differentscore.OncePameladecidedIcouldbetrustedwithhergreatcreation–thoughshe never admitted creating (a word she hated) Mary, or any of the othercharacters,sayingthat“Maryjustarrived”–Iwasinturnabletopersuadeherthatastagemusicalcouldonlybemadebycombiningherstorieswiththekeysongsfromthefilm.RealisingthatIwasprobablyherbestchancetoachieveherlongcherisheddreamofastagemusical,sheagreedandIfinallyfeltamusicalMarymightflyafterall.

MaryPoppinsis,andalwayswillbe,unique;stern,dependable,businesslike,magical and yet eternally loveable.When Jane andMichael call out “wewillneverforgetyouMaryPoppins”youknowthatthoughshehasflownaway,thegift she has broughtwill remain for always and thatMary is genuinely happy

thatherchargesarenow:“practicallyperfectandIhopeitremainsso”.ThoughPamelawouldneversaywhereMarycamefrom,shedidinfactgiveananswertothechildrenwhentheyaskedMary,“whereisyourhome?”andMaryreplies,“MyhomeiswhereverIam”.

FromthetimePamelaentrustedmewiththestagerightstoherbooksittookmeseveralyearstopersuadeDisneythatanewmusicalcouldbecreatedoutofboththebooksandthefilmskeyShermanBrotherssongsandduringthattimeItriedtopiecetogetheranoutlineforadramaticstructurethatwouldmaketheatreaudienceswant tocomebackforasecondhalf.TheanswerofcourselaywithPamelaherself. In thebooksMaryPoppins leaves the family twiceandcomesback only until she’s no longer required. This gave me the clue where theintervalshouldbeandenabledmetostartputting thesongsfromthefilmintonew dramatic situations and decide which new songs would be needed. IrememberwritingmuchofthistreatmentonthequaysidebytheSydneyOperaHouse, not far from the Old Grand Opera House where Pamela had herselfdancedandsung inher theatricaldays.WhenI showedwhat I’ddone toTomSchumacher, who had just become the new head of Disney’s Theatricalproductioncompanyin2001,hepresentedmewitharmfulsofdocumentsfromtheDisneyvaultswrittenbyPamelaherselfandsaid,“ItwasamazingthatIhadfocused on many of the characters and episodes from the books that Traverswanted included in the Mary Poppins film sequel that was never made”.Whenever Iwas stuck for an idea, Iwould think, “WhatwouldPamela do orsay”.Byseparating the filmandstage rights,Pamela somehowmanaged frombeyondthegrave togetDisneyandI toworktogetherand,with theenormouscontributionof a lot of talentedpeople, especiallyTom, the stagemusical shealwayswanted has nowbeen created and has beenmiraculously embraced byDisney,fansofherbooks,herfriends,family,trustees,aswellasnewaudiencesaroundtheworld.IliketothinkthatPamelawouldalsosay“it’lldo”asIhavenodoubtthatifshedisapprovedshewouldhavesomehowsentmehernotes!

CameronMackintosh

CameronMackintoshhasbeenproducingshowsformorethan40yearsduringwhich timehehasputonhundredsofproductionsaround theworld including

Cats, LesMisérables, The Phantom of the Opera – the three longest runningmusicalsofalltime–andMissSaigon.HisotherproductionsincludethestagemusicalsMary Poppins with Disney,Little Shop of Horrors, Side by Side bySondheim, Follies, Martin Guerre, The Witches of Eastwick and acclaimedinternationalrevivalsofMyFairLady,Oliver!andOklahoma!.CameronownsseventheatresinLondon’sWestEnd–thePrinceofWales,Gielgud,Queen’s,Wyndham’s,NoëlCoward,NovelloandPrinceEdward,nearlyallofwhichhaveundergone spectacular refurbishment. In 1995 his company received TheQueen’sAwardforExportAchievementandhewasknightedinthe1996NewYear’sHonoursforhisservicestoBritishtheatre.HeisPresidentoftheRoyalScottishAcademyofMusic andDrama and in 1990he endowed theChair ofContemporaryTheatreforavisitingprofessoratStCatherine’sCollege,Oxford,whereheisalsoanHonoraryFellowandMemberoftheCourtofBenefactors.In 2006 he received the nationalEnjoyEnglandAward forExcellence for hisOutstandingContributiontoTourism.

Contents

WhyYou’llLoveThisBook

MaryPoppins

MaryPoppinsComesBack

MaryPoppinsOpenstheDoor

MaryPoppinsinthePark

MaryPoppinsinCherryTreeLane

MaryPoppinsandtheHouseNextDoor

Postscript

AbouttheAuthor

Copyright

AboutthePublishers

TomyMOTHER1875–1928

Contents

Dedication

EastWind

TheDayOut

LaughingGas

MissLark’sAndrew

TheDancingCow

BadTuesday

TheBirdWoman

MrsCorry

JohnandBarbara’sStory

FullMoon

ChristmasShopping

WestWind

ChapterOne

EASTWIND

IFYOUWANTtofindCherryTreeLaneallyouhavetodoisaskthePolicemanatthe crossroads. Hewill push his helmet slightly to one side, scratch his headthoughtfully,andthenhewillpointhishugewhite-glovedfingerandsay:“Firstto your right, second to your left, sharp right again, and you’re there. Goodmorning.”

And sure enough, if you followhis directions exactly, youwill be there –right in themiddleofCherryTreeLane,where thehouses rundownone sideandtheParkrunsdowntheotherandthecherry-treesgodancingrightdownthemiddle.

IfyouarelookingforNumberSeventeen–anditismorethanlikelythatyouwillbe,forthisbookisallaboutthatparticularhouse–youwillverysoonfindit.Tobeginwith,itisthesmallesthouseintheLane.Andbesidesthat,itistheonlyonethatisratherdilapidatedandneedsacoatofpaint.ButMrBanks,whoownsit,saidtoMrsBanksthatshecouldhaveeitheranice,clean,comfortablehouseorfourchildren.Butnotboth,forhecouldn’taffordit.

AndafterMrsBankshadgiven themattersomeconsiderationshecametotheconclusionthatshewouldratherhaveJane,whowastheeldest,andMichael,whocamenext,andJohnandBarbara,whowereTwinsandcamelastofall.Soit was settled, and that was how the Banks family came to live at NumberSeventeen, withMrs Brill to cook for them, and Ellen to lay the tables, andRobertsonAytocutthelawnandcleantheknivesandpolishtheshoesand,asMrBanksalwayssaid,“towastehistimeandmymoney.”

And, of course, besides these there was Katie Nanna, who doesn’t reallydeservetocomeintothebookatallbecause,at thetimeIamspeakingof,shehadjustleftNumberSeventeen.

“Withoutabyyourleaveorawordofwarning.AndwhatamItodo?”saidMrsBanks.

“Advertise, my dear,” said Mr Banks, putting on his shoes. “And I wishRobertsonAywouldgowithout awordofwarning, forhehas againpolished

onebootandlefttheotheruntouched.Ishalllookverylopsided.”“That,”saidMrsBanks,“isnotoftheleastimportance.Youhaven’ttoldme

whatI’mtodoaboutKatieNanna.”“Idon’tseehowyoucandoanythingabouthersinceshehasdisappeared,”

repliedMrBanks.“Butifitwereme–ImeanI–well,IshouldgetsomebodytoputintheMorningPaperthenewsthatJaneandMichaelandJohnandBarbaraBanks (to saynothingof theirMother) require thebestpossibleNannie at thelowestpossiblewageandatonce.ThenIshouldwaitandwatchfortheNanniesto queue up outside the front gate, and I should get very crosswith them forholdingup the traffic andmaking it necessary forme togive thepolicemanashilling forputtinghim to somuch trouble.NowImustbeoff.Whew, it’s ascoldastheNorthPole.Whichwayisthewindblowing?”

And as he said that, Mr Banks popped his head out of the window andlooked down the Lane to Admiral Boom’s house at the corner. This was thegrandesthouse in theLane, and theLanewasveryproudof it because itwasbuiltexactlylikeaship.Therewasaflagstaffinthegarden,andontheroofwasagiltweathercockshapedlikeatelescope.

“Ha!” said Mr Banks, drawing in his head very quickly. “Admiral’stelescopesaysEastWind.Ithoughtasmuch.Thereisfrostinmybones.Ishallweartwoovercoats.”AndhekissedhiswifeabsentmindedlyononesideofhernoseandwavedtothechildrenandwentawaytotheCity.

Now, the City was a place where Mr Banks went every day – exceptSundays, of course, andBankHolidays – andwhile hewas there he sat on alargechair in frontofa largedeskandmademoney.Allday longheworked,cuttingout pennies and shillings andhalf-crowns and threepenny-bits.Andhebrought themhomewithhim inhis littleblackbag.Sometimeshewouldgivesome to Jane andMichael for theirmoney-boxes, andwhenhe couldn’t spareanyhewouldsay,“TheBankisbroken,”andtheywouldknowhehadn’tmademuchmoneythatday.

Well,MrBankswentoffwithhisblackbag,andMrsBankswent into thedrawingroomandsattherealldaylongwritingletterstothepapersandbeggingthemtosendsomeNanniestoheratonceasshewaswaiting;andupstairsintheNursery, Jane andMichaelwatched at thewindow andwonderedwhowouldcome.TheyweregladKatieNannahadgone,fortheyhadneverlikedher.Shewas old and fat and smelt of barley-water. Anything, they thought, would bebetterthanKatieNanna–ifnotmuchbetter.

WhentheafternoonbegantodieawaybehindthePark,MrsBrillandEllen

cametogivethemtheirsupperandtobaththeTwins.AndaftersupperJaneandMichaelsatatthewindowwatchingforMrBankstocomehome,andlisteningtothesoundoftheEastWindblowingthroughthenakedbranchesofthecherrytrees in theLane. The trees themselves, turning and bending in the half light,looked as though they had gonemad andwere dancing their roots out of theground.

“There he is!” said Michael, pointing suddenly to a shape that bangedheavilyagainstthegate.Janepeeredthroughthegatheringdarkness.

“That’snotDaddy,”shesaid.“It’ssomebodyelse.”Thentheshape,tossedandbentunderthewind,liftedthelatchofthegate,

andtheycouldseethatitbelongedtoawoman,whowasholdingherhatonwithonehand and carrying a bag in theother.As theywatched, Jane andMichaelsawacuriousthinghappen.Assoonastheshapewasinsidethegatethewindseemedtocatchherupintotheairandflingheratthehouse.Itwasasthoughithad flung her first at the gate, waited for her to open it, and then lifted andthrownher,bagandall,atthefrontdoor.Thewatchingchildrenheardaterrificbang,andasshelandedthewholehouseshook.

“Howfunny!I’veneverseenthathappenbefore,”saidMichael.“Let’sgoandseewhoitis!”saidJane,andtakingMichael’sarmshedrew

himawayfromthewindow,throughtheNurseryandoutontothelanding.Fromtheretheyalwayshadagoodviewofanythingthathappenedinthefronthall.

Presently they saw their Mother coming out of the drawing room with avisitorfollowingher.JaneandMichaelcouldseethatthenewcomerhadshinyblackhair–“Rather likeawoodenDutchdoll,”whisperedJane.And that shewasthin,withlargefeetandhands,andsmall,ratherpeeringblueeyes.

“You’llfindthattheyareverynicechildren,”MrsBankswassaying.Michael’selbowgaveasharpdigatJane’sribs.“Andthattheygivenotroubleatall,”continuedMrsBanksuncertainly,asif

sheherselfdidn’treallybelievewhatshewassaying.Theyheardthevisitorsniffasthoughshedidn’teither.

“Now,aboutreferences—”MrsBankswenton.“Oh, Imake it a rule never to give references,” said the other firmly.Mrs

Banksstared.“ButIthoughtitwasusual,”shesaid.“Imean–Iunderstoodpeoplealways

did.”“Averyold-fashionedidea, tomymind,”JaneandMichaelheardthestern

voicesay.“Veryold-fashioned.Quiteoutofdate,asyoumightsay.”

Now,iftherewasonethingMrsBanksdidnotlike,itwastobethoughtold-fashioned.Shejustcouldn’tbearit.Soshesaidquickly:

“Verywell, then.Wewon’tbother about them. Ionlyasked,of course, incase you – er – required it. The nursery is upstairs—” And she led the waytowards thestaircase, talkingall the time,withoutstoppingonce.AndbecauseshewasdoingthatMrsBanksdidnotnoticewhatwashappeningbehindher,butJaneandMichael,watchingfromthetoplanding,hadanexcellentviewoftheextraordinarythingthevisitornowdid.

Certainly she followedMrsBanksupstairs,butnot in theusualway.Withherlargebaginherhandssheslidgracefullyupthebanisters,andarrivedatthelandingat thesametimeasMrsBanks.Sucha thing,JaneandMichaelknew,had never been done before. Down, of course, for they had often done itthemselves.Butup–never!Theygazedcuriouslyatthestrangenewvisitor.

“Well, that’s all settled, then.” A sigh of relief came from the children’sMother.

“Quite.AslongasI’msatisfied,”saidtheother,wipinghernosewithalargeredandwhitebandannahandkerchief.

“Why, children,” saidMrs Banks, noticing them suddenly, “what are youdoingthere?Thisisyournewnurse,MaryPoppins.Jane,Michael,sayhowdoyoudo!Andthese”–shewavedherhandatthebabiesintheircots–“aretheTwins.”

Mary Poppins regarded them steadily, looking from one to the other asthoughsheweremakinguphermindwhethershelikedthemornot.

“Willwedo?”saidMichael.“Michael,don’tbenaughty,”saidhisMother.MaryPoppinscontinuedtoregardthefourchildrensearchingly.Then,witha

long,loudsniffthatseemedtoindicatethatshehadmadeuphermind,shesaid:“I’lltaketheposition.”“Foralltheworld,”asMrsBankssaidtoherhusbandlater,“asthoughshe

weredoingusasignalhonour.”“Perhaps she is,” saidMrBanks, putting his nose round the corner of the

newspaperforamomentandthenwithdrawingitveryquickly.When their Mother had gone, Jane and Michael edged towards Mary

Poppins,whostood,stillasapost,withherhandsfoldedinfrontofher.“Howdidyoucome?” Janeasked. “It looked just as if thewindblewyou

here.”“It did,” said Mary Poppins briefly. And she proceeded to unwind her

muffler from her neck and to take off her hat,which she hung on one of thebedposts.

As it did not seem as thoughMaryPoppinswas going to say anymore –thoughshesniffedagreatdeal–Jane,too,remainedsilent.Butwhenshebentdowntoundoherbag,Michaelcouldnotrestrainhimself.

“Whatafunnybag!”hesaid,pinchingitwithhisfingers.“Carpet,”saidMaryPoppins,puttingherkeyinthelock.“Tocarrycarpetsin,youmean?”“No.Madeof.”“Oh,”saidMichael.“Isee.”Buthedidn’t–quite.By this time the bag was open, and Jane and Michael were more than

surprisedtofinditwascompletelyempty.“Why,”saidJane,“there’snothinginit!”“Whatdoyoumean–nothing?”demandedMaryPoppins,drawingherself

upandlookingasthoughshehadbeeninsulted.“Nothinginit,didyousay?”Andwiththatshetookoutfromtheemptybagastarchedwhiteapronand

tied it round her waist. Next she unpacked a large cake of Sunlight Soap, atoothbrush,apacketofhairpins,abottleofscent,asmallfoldingarmchairandaboxofthroatlozenges.

JaneandMichaelstared.“ButIsaw,”whisperedMichael.“I’msureitwasempty.”“Hush!” said Jane, asMary Poppins took out a large bottle labelled “One

TeaspoontobeTakenatBedtime.”Aspoonwasattachedtotheneckofthebottle,andintothisMaryPoppins

pouredadarkcrimsonfluid.“Isthatyourmedicine?”enquiredMichael,lookingveryinterested.“No, yours,” said Mary Poppins, holding out the spoon to him. Michael

stared.Hewrinkleduphisnose.Hebegantoprotest.“Idon’twantit.Idon’tneedit.Iwon’t!”But Mary Poppins’ eyes were fixed upon him, and Michael suddenly

discoveredthatyoucouldnotlookatMaryPoppinsanddisobeyher.Therewassomethingstrangeandextraordinaryabouther–somethingthatwasfrighteningandatthesametimemostexciting.Thespooncamenearer.Heheldhisbreath,shuthiseyesandgulped.Adelicious tasteranroundhismouth.Heturnedhistongueinit.Heswallowed,andahappysmileranroundhisface.

“Strawberryice,”hesaidecstatically.“More,more,more!”ButMaryPoppins, her face as stern asbefore,waspouringout adose for

Jane.Itranintothespoon,silvery,greeny,yellowy.Janetastedit.“Lime-juicecordial,” she said, slidingher tonguedeliciouslyoverher lips.

ButwhenshesawMaryPoppinsmovingtowardstheTwinswiththebottleJanerushedather.

“Oh,no–please.They’retooyoung.Itwouldn’tbegoodforthem.Please!”MaryPoppins,however,tooknonotice,butwithawarning,terribleglance

atJane,tippedthespoontowardsJohn’smouth.Helappedatiteagerly,andbythe few drops thatwere spilt on his bib, Jane andMichael could tell that thesubstanceinthespoonthistimewasmilk.ThenBarbarahadhershare,andshegurgledandlickedthespoontwice.

MaryPoppinsthenpouredoutanotherdoseandsolemnlytookitherself.“Rumpunch,”shesaid,smackingherlipsandcorkingthebottle.Jane’s eyes and Michael’s popped with astonishment, but they were not

givenmuchtimetowonder,forMaryPoppins,havingputthemiraculousbottleonthemantelpiece,turnedtothem.

“Now,”shesaid,“spit-spotintobed.”Andshebegantoundressthem.Theynoticed that whereas buttons and hooks had needed all sorts of coaxing fromKatieNanna,forMaryPoppinstheyflewapartalmostata look.Inlessthanaminute they found themselves in bed andwatching, by the dim light from thenightlight,therestofMaryPoppins’unpackingbeingperformed.

Fromthecarpet-bagshetookoutsevenflannelnightgowns,fourcottonones,apairofboots,asetofdominoes,twobathingcapsandapostcardalbum.Lastofallcameafoldingcampbedsteadwithblanketsandeiderdowncomplete,andthisshesetdownbetweenJohn’scotandBarbara’s.

Jane and Michael sat hugging themselves and watching. It was all sosurprisingthattheycouldfindnothingtosay.Buttheyknew,bothofthem,thatsomething strange andwonderful had happened atNumber Seventeen,CherryTreeLane.

MaryPoppins,slippingoneoftheflannelnightgownsoverherhead,beganto undress underneath it as though it were a tent. Michael, charmed by thisstrangenewarrival,unabletokeepsilentanylonger,calledtoher.

“MaryPoppins,”hecried,“you’llneverleaveus,willyou?”Therewasnoreplyfromunderthenightgown.Michaelcouldnotbearit.“Youwon’tleaveus,willyou?”hecalledanxiously.MaryPoppins’headcameoutofthetopofthenightgown.Shelookedvery

fierce.“Onewordmore from thatdirection,” she said threateningly, “and I’ll call

thePoliceman.”“Iwasonlysaying,”beganMichael,meekly,“thatwehopedyouwouldn’t

begoingawaysoon—”Hestopped,feelingveryredandconfused.MaryPoppinsstaredfromhimtoJaneinsilence.Thenshesniffed.“I’llstaytillthewindchanges,”shesaidshortly,andsheblewouthercandle

andgotintobed.“That’s all right,” saidMichael, half to himself and half to Jane.But Jane

wasn’t listening. She was thinking about all that had happened, andwondering...

AndthatishowMaryPoppinscametoliveatNumberSeventeen,CherryTreeLane.Andalthough they sometimes found themselveswishing for thequieter,moreordinarydayswhenKatieNanna ruled thehousehold,everybody,on thewhole,wasgladofMaryPoppins’arrival.MrBankswasgladbecause,asshearrived by herself and did not hold up the traffic, he had not had to tip thePoliceman.MrsBankswasgladbecauseshewasabletotelleverybodythatherchildren’snursewassofashionablethatshedidn’tbelieveingivingreferences.MrsBrillandEllenweregladbecausetheycoulddrinkstrongcupsofteaalldayinthekitchenandnolongerneededtopresideatnurserysuppers.RobertsonAywasglad,too,becauseMaryPoppinshadonlyonepairofshoes,andthoseshepolishedherself.

ButnobodyeverknewwhatMaryPoppins felt about it, forMaryPoppinsnevertoldanything...

ChapterTwo

THEDAYOUT

“EVERYTHIRDTHURSDAY,”saidMrsBanks.“Twotillfive.”MaryPoppins eyedher sternly. “Thebest people,ma’am,” she said, “give

every second Thursday, and one till six. And those I shall take or—” MaryPoppinspaused,andMrsBanksknewwhatthepausemeant.Itmeantthatifshedidn’tgetwhatshewantedMaryPoppinswouldnotstay.

“Verywell,verywell,”saidMrsBankshurriedly,thoughshewishedMaryPoppins did not know so verymuchmore about the best people than she didherself.

SoMaryPoppinsputonherwhiteglovesandtuckedherumbrellaunderherarm–notbecauseitwasrainingbutbecauseithadsuchabeautifulhandlethatshe couldn’t possibly leave it at home. How could you leave your umbrellabehind if ithadaparrot’sheadforahandle?Besides,MaryPoppinswasveryvainandlikedtolookherbest.Indeed,shewasquitesurethatsheneverlookedanythingelse.

JanewavedtoherfromtheNurserywindow.“Whereareyougoing?”shecalled.“Kindly close that window,” replied Mary Poppins, and Jane’s head

hurriedlydisappearedinsidetheNursery.Mary Poppins walked down the garden-path and opened the gate. Once

outside in theLane, she setoffwalkingveryquicklyas if shewereafraid theafternoonwouldrunawayfromherifshedidn’tkeepupwithit.Atthecornersheturnedto therightandthento the left,noddedhaughtily to thePoliceman,whosaiditwasaniceday,andbythattimeshefeltthatherDayOuthadbegun.

Shestoppedbesideanemptymotorcarinordertoputherhatstraightwiththehelpof thewindscreen, inwhichitwasreflected, thenshesmootheddownher frock and tucked her umbrella more securely under her arm so that thehandle,orrathertheparrot,couldbeseenbyeverybody.AfterthesepreparationsshewentforwardtomeettheMatchMan.

Now,theMatchManhadtwoprofessions.Henotonlysoldmatcheslikeany

ordinarymatchman,buthedrewpavementpicturesaswell.Hedidthesethingsturn-aboutaccordingtotheweather.Ifitwaswet,hesoldmatchesbecausetherainwouldhavewashedawayhispicturesifhehadpaintedthem.Ifitwasfine,hewas on his knees all day,making pictures in coloured chalks on the side-walks,anddoingthemsoquickly thatoftenyouwouldfindhehadpainteduponesideofa streetanddown theotheralmostbeforeyou’dhad time tocomeroundthecorner.

Onthisparticularday,whichwasfinebutcold,hewaspainting.Hewasinthe act of adding a picture of two Bananas, an Apple, and a head of QueenElizabeth to a long string of others, when Mary Poppins walked up to him,tiptoeingsoastosurprisehim.

“Hey!”calledMaryPoppinssoftly.Hewent on putting brown stripes on a banana and brown curls onQueen

Elizabeth’shead.“Ahem!”saidMaryPoppins,withaladylikecough.Heturnedwithastartandsawher.“Mary!” he cried, and you could tell by the way he cried it that Mary

Poppinswasaveryimportantpersoninhislife.MaryPoppinslookeddownatherfeetandrubbedthetoeofoneshoealong

thepavementtwoorthreetimes.Thenshesmiledattheshoeinsuchawaythattheshoeknewquitewellthatthesmilewasn’tmeantforit.

“It’smyDay,Bert,”shesaid.“Didn’tyouremember?”BertwastheMatchMan’sname–HerbertAlfredforSundays.

“Of course I remembered, Mary,” he said, “but—” and he stopped andlookedsadlyintohiscap.It layonthegroundbesidehis lastpictureandtherewastuppenceinit.Hepickeditupandjingledthepennies.

“Thatallyougot,Bert?”saidMaryPoppins,andshesaiditsobrightlyyoucouldhardlytellshewasdisappointedatall.

“That’sthelot,”hesaid.“Businessisbadtoday.You’dthinkanybody’dbeglad to pay to see that, wouldn’t you?” And he nodded his head at QueenElizabeth. “Well – that’s how it is,Mary,” he sighed. “Can’t take you to teatoday,I’mafraid.”

Mary Poppins thought of the raspberry-jam cakes they always had on herDayOut,andshewasjustgoingtosigh,whenshesawtheMatchMan’sface.So,verycleverly,sheturnedthesighintoasmile–agoodonewithbothendsturnedup–andsaid:

“That’s all right, Bert. Don’t youmind. I’d much rather not go to tea. A

stodgymeal,Icallit–really.”Andthat,whenyouthinkhowverymuchshelikedraspberry-jamcakes,was

ratherniceofMaryPoppins.TheMatchMan apparently thought so, too, for he took her white-gloved

hand inhis and squeezed it hard.Then together theywalkeddown the rowofpictures.

“Now,there’soneyou’veneverseenbefore!”saidtheMatchManproudly,pointing to a painting of amountain coveredwith snow and its slopes simplylitteredwithgrasshopperssittingongiganticroses.

ThistimeMaryPoppinscouldindulgeinasighwithouthurtinghisfeelings.“Oh, Bert,” she said, “that’s a fair treat!”And by theway she said it she

madehimfeelthatbyrightsthepictureshouldhavebeenintheRoyalAcademy,which is a large room where people hang the pictures they have painted.Everybodycomes to see them, andwhen theyhave looked at them for a verylongtime,everybodysaystoeverybodyelse:“Theidea–mydear!”

ThenextpictureMaryPoppinsandtheMatchMancametowasevenbetter.Itwasthecountry–alltreesandgrassandalittlebitofblueseainthedistance,andsomethingthatlookedlikeMargateinthebackground.

“Myword!”saidMaryPoppinsadmiringly,stoopingsothatshecouldseeitbetter.“Why,Bert,whateveristhematter?”

FortheMatchManhadcaughtholdofherotherhandnowandwaslookingveryexcited.

“Mary,”hesaid,“Igotanidea!Arealidea.Whydon’twegothere–rightnow – this very day? Both together, into the picture. Eh, Mary?”And stillholdingherhandshedrewherrightoutofthestreet,awayfromtheironrailingsand the lamp-posts, into the verymiddle of the picture. Pff!There theywere,rightinsideit!

Howgreenitwasthereandhowquiet,andwhatsoftcrispgrassundertheirfeet!They could hardly believe itwas true, and yet herewere green brancheshuskily rattling on their hats as they bent beneath them, and little colouredflowers curling round their shoes.They stared at eachother, and eachnoticedthat theotherhadchanged.ToMaryPoppins, theMatchManseemed tohaveboughthimselfanentirelynewsuitofclothes,forhewasnowwearingabrightgreen-and-red striped coat and white flannel trousers and, best of all, a newstrawhat.Helookedunusuallyclean,asthoughhehadbeenpolished.

“Why,Bert,youlookfine!”shecriedinanadmiringvoice.Bertcouldnotsayanythingforamoment,forhismouthhadfallenopenand

hewasstaringatherwithroundeyes.Thenhegulpedandsaid:“Golly!”That was all. But he said it in such a way and stared so steadily and so

delightedlyatherthatshetookalittlemirroroutofherbagandlookedatherselfinit.

She,too,shediscovered,hadchanged.Roundhershouldershungacloakoflovelyartificial silkwithwaterypatternsallover it, and the tickling feelingatthe back of her neck came, themirror told her, froma long curly feather thatswept down from the brimof her hat.Her best shoes haddisappeared, and intheirplacewereothersmuchfinerandwithlargediamondbucklesshininguponthem.Shewasstillwearingthewhiteglovesandcarryingtheumbrella.

“Mygoodness,”saidMaryPoppins,“IamhavingaDayOut!”So, still admiring themselves and each other, they moved on together

through the littlewood, tillpresently theycameupona littleopenspace filledwithsunlight.AndthereonagreentablewasAfternoonTea!

Apileof raspberry-jamcakesashighasMaryPoppins’waist stood in thecentre,andbesideitteawasboilinginabigbrassurn.Bestofall,thereweretwoplatesofwhelksandtwopinstopickthemoutwith.

“Strikemepink!”saidMaryPoppins.Thatwaswhatshealwayssaidwhenshewaspleased.

“Golly!”saidtheMatchMan.Andthatwashisparticularphrase.“Won’tyousitdown,Moddom?”enquiredavoice,andtheyturnedtofinda

tallmaninablackcoatcomingoutofthewoodwithatablenapkinoverhisarm.MaryPoppins, thoroughlysurprised,satdownwithaplopupononeof the

littlegreenchairsthatstoodroundthetable.TheMatchMan,staring,collapsedontoanother.

“I’mtheWaiter,youknow!”explainedthemanintheblackcoat.“Oh!ButIdidn’tseeyouinthepicture,”saidMaryPoppins.“Ah,Iwasbehindthetree,”explainedtheWaiter.“Won’tyousitdown?”saidMaryPoppins,politely.“Waitersneversitdown,Moddom,”saidthemanbutheseemedpleasedat

beingasked.“Yourwhelks,Mister!”hesaid,pushingaplateof themover to theMatch

Man.“AndyourPin!”HedustedthepinonhisnapkinandhandedittotheMatchMan.

Theybeganupontheafternoontea,andtheWaiterstoodbesidethemtoseetheyhadeverythingtheyneeded.

“We’rehavingthemafterall,”saidMaryPoppinsinaloudwhisper,asshe

beganontheheapofraspberry-jamcakes.“Golly!”agreedtheMatchMan,helpinghimselftotwoofthelargest.“Tea?”saidtheWaiter,fillingalargecupforeachofthemfromtheurn.Theydrankitandhadtwocupsmoreeach,andthen,forluck,theyfinished

thepileofraspberry-jamcakes.After that theygotupandbrushedthecrumbsoff.

“ThereisNothingtoPay,”saidtheWaiter,beforetheyhadtimetoaskforthe bill. “It is a Pleasure.Youwill find theMerry-go-Round just over there!”Andhewavedhishandtoalittlegapinthetrees,whereMaryPoppinsandtheMatchMancouldseeseveralwoodenhorseswhirlingroundonastand.

“That’s funny,” said she. “I don’t remember seeing that in the picture,either.”

“Ah,”saidtheMatchMan,whohadn’trememberedithimself,“itwasintheBackground,yousee!”

TheMerry-go-Round was just slowing down as they approached it. Theyleaptuponit,MaryPoppinsonablackhorseandtheMatchManonagrey.Andwhenthemusicstartedagainandtheybegantomove,theyrodeallthewaytoYarmouthandback,becausethatwastheplacetheybothwantedmosttosee.

When they returned it was nearly dark and the Waiter was watching forthem.

“I’m very sorry,Moddom andMister,” he said politely, “but we close atSeven.Rules,youknow.MayIshowyoutheWayOut?”

They nodded as he flourished his table-napkin and walked on in front ofthemthroughthewood.

“It’sawonderfulpictureyou’vedrawnthistime,Bert,”saidMaryPoppins,puttingherhandthroughtheMatchMan’sarmanddrawinghercloakabouther.

“Well, Ididmybest,Mary,”said theMatchManmodestly.Butyoucouldseehewasreallyverypleasedwithhimselfindeed.

JustthentheWaiterstoppedinfrontofthem,besidealargewhitedoorwaythatlookedasthoughitweremadeofthickchalklines.

“Hereyouare!”hesaid.“ThisistheWayOut.”“Goodbyeandthankyou,”saidMaryPoppins,shakinghishand.“Moddom,goodbye!”saidtheWaiter,bowingsolowthathisheadknocked

againsthisknees.HenoddedtotheMatchMan,whocockedhisheadononesideandclosed

oneeyeat theWaiter,whichwashiswayofbiddinghimfarewell.ThenMaryPoppinssteppedthroughthewhitedoorwayandtheMatchManfollowedher.

Andastheywent,thefeatherdroppedfromherhatandthesilkcloakfromhershouldersandthediamondsfromhershoes.ThebrightclothesoftheMatchManfaded,andhisstrawhatturnedintohisoldraggedcapagain.MaryPoppinsturnedandlookedathim,andsheknewatoncewhathadhappened.Standingonthepavementshegazedathimforalongminute,andthenherglanceexploredthewoodbehind him for theWaiter.But theWaiterwas nowhere to be seen.There was nobody in the picture. Nothing moved there. Even the Merry-go-Roundhaddisappeared.Onlythestilltreesandthegrassandtheunmovinglittlepatchofsearemained.

ButMaryPoppins and theMatchMan smiled at one another.They knew,yousee,whatlaybehindthetrees...

WhenshecamebackfromherDayOut,JaneandMichaelcamerunningtomeether.

“Wherehaveyoubeen?”theyaskedher.“InFairyland,”saidMaryPoppins.“DidyouseeCinderella?”saidJane.“Huh, Cinderella? Not me,” said Mary Poppins, contemptuously.

“Cinderella,indeed!”“OrRobinsonCrusoe?”askedMichael.“RobinsonCrusoe–pooh!”saidMaryPoppinsrudely.“Thenhowcouldyouhavebeenthere?Itcouldn’thavebeenourFairyland!”MaryPoppinsgaveasuperiorsniff.“Don’tyouknow,”shesaidpityingly,“thateverybody’sgotaFairylandof

theirown?”Andwithanothersniffshewentupstairstotakeoffherwhiteglovesandput

theumbrellaaway.

ChapterThree

LAUGHINGGAS

“AREYOUQUITEsurehewillbeathome?”saidJane,astheygotofftheBus,sheandMichaelandMaryPoppins.

“WouldmyUncleaskmetobringyoutoteaifheintendedtogoout,I’dliketoknow?”saidMaryPoppins,whowasevidentlyveryoffendedbythequestion.Shewaswearingherbluecoatwiththesilverbuttonsandthebluehattomatch,and on the dayswhen shewore these itwas the easiest thing in theworld tooffendher.

AllthreeofthemwereonthewaytopayavisittoMaryPoppins’uncle,MrWigg,andJaneandMichaelhadlookedforwardtothetripforsolongthattheyweremorethanhalfafraidthatMrWiggmightnotbein,afterall.

“WhyishecalledMrWigg–doeshewearone?”askedMichael,hurryingalongbesideMaryPoppins.

“HeiscalledMrWiggbecauseMrWiggishisname.Andhedoesn’twearone.Heisbald,”saidMaryPoppins.“AndifIhaveanymorequestionswewilljustgoBackHome.”Andshesniffedherusualsniffofdispleasure.

JaneandMichael lookedateachotherandfrowned.Andthefrownmeant:“Don’tlet’saskheranythingelseorwe’llnevergetthere.”

MaryPoppinsputherhatstraightattheTobacconist’sShopatthecorner.Ithadoneofthosecuriouswindowswherethereseemtobethreeofyouinsteadofone, so that if you look long enough at them you begin to feel you are notyourself but a whole crowd of somebody else. Mary Poppins sighed withpleasure,however,whenshesawthreeofherself,eachwearingabluecoatwithsilverbuttonsandabluehattomatch.Shethoughtitwassuchalovelysightthatshe wished there had been a dozen of her or even thirty. The more MaryPoppinsesthebetter.

“Comealong,”shesaidsternly,as though theyhadkeptherwaiting.Thenthey turned the corner and pulled the bell ofNumberThree,RobertsonRoad.JaneandMichaelcouldhearitfaintlyechoingfromalongwayawayandtheyknewthatinoneminute,ortwoatthemost,theywouldbehavingteawithMary

Poppins’uncle,MrWigg,forthefirsttimeever.“Ifhe’sin,ofcourse,”JanesaidtoMichaelinawhisper.Atthatmomentthedoorflewopenandathin,watery-lookingladyappeared.“Ishein?”saidMichaelquickly.“I’llthankyou,”saidMaryPoppins,givinghimaterribleglance,“toletme

dothetalking.”“Howdoyoudo,MrsWigg,”saidJanepolitely.“MrsWigg!”saidthethinlady, inavoiceeventhinnerthanherself.“How

dare you call meMrsWigg? No, thank you! I’m plainMiss Persimmon andproudofit.MrsWiggindeed!”Sheseemedtobequiteupset,andtheythoughtMrWiggmustbeaveryoddpersonifMissPersimmonwassogladnot tobeMrsWigg.

“Straightup and first dooron the landing,” saidMissPersimmon, and shewenthurryingawaydownthepassagesaying:“MrsWiggindeed!”toherselfinahigh,thin,outragedvoice.

JaneandMichaelfollowedMaryPoppinsupstairs.MaryPoppinsknockedatthedoor.

“Comein!Comein!Andwelcome!”calledaloud,cheeryvoicefrominside.Jane’sheartwaspitter-patteringwithexcitement.

“Heisin!”shesignalledtoMichaelwithalook.Mary Poppins opened the door and pushed them in front of her. A large,

cheerfulroomlaybeforethem.Atoneendofitafirewasburningbrightlyandinthecentrestoodanenormoustablelaidfortea–fourcupsandsaucers,pilesofbreadandbutter, crumpets, coconut cakes anda largeplumcakewithpinkicing.

“Well, this is indeedaPleasure,”ahugevoicegreeted them,andJaneandMichael looked round for its owner. He was nowhere to be seen. The roomappearedtobequiteempty.ThentheyheardMaryPoppinssayingcrossly:

“Oh,UncleAlbert–notagain?It’snotyourbirthday,isit?”Andasshespokeshelookedupattheceiling.JaneandMichaellookedup

tooandtotheirsurprisesawaround,fat,baldmanwhowashangingintheairwithoutholdingontoanything.Indeed,heappearedtobesittingontheair,forhislegswerecrossedandhehadjustputdownthenewspaperwhichhehadbeenreadingwhentheycamein.

“My dear,” said Mr Wigg, smiling down at the children, and lookingapologetically at Mary Poppins, “I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid it is mybirthday.”

“Tch,tch,tch!”saidMaryPoppins.“I only remembered last night and there was no time then to send you a

postcard asking you to come another day.Very distressing, isn’t it?” he said,lookingdownatJaneandMichael.

“Icanseeyou’rerathersurprised,”saidMrWigg.And,indeed,theirmouthswere so wide open with astonishment that Mr Wigg, if he had been a littlesmaller,mightalmosthavefallenintooneofthem.

“I’d better explain, I think,”MrWiggwent on calmly. “You see, it’s thisway. I’m a cheerful sort ofman and very disposed to laughter.Youwouldn’tbelieve,eitherofyou,thenumberofthingsthatstrikemeasbeingfunny.Icanlaughatprettynearlyeverything,Ican.”

AndwiththatMrWiggbegantobobupanddown,shakingwithlaughteratthethoughtofhisowncheerfulness.

“UncleAlbert!”saidMaryPoppins,andMrWiggstopped laughingwithajerk.

“Oh, beg pardon, my dear.Where was I? Oh, yes.Well, the funny thingaboutmeis–allright,Mary,Iwon’tlaughifIcanhelpit!–thatwhenevermybirthdayfallsonaFriday,well,it’sallupwithme.AbsolutelyU.P.,”saidMrWigg.

“Butwhy—?”beganJane.“Buthow—?”beganMichael.“Well, you see, if I laugh on that particular day I become so filled with

LaughingGasthatIsimplycan’tkeepontheground.EvenifIsmileithappens.The first funny thought, and I’m up like a balloon. And until I can think ofsomethingserious Ican’tgetdownagain.”MrWiggbegan tochuckleat that,but he caught sight of Mary Poppins’ face and stopped the chuckle, andcontinued:

“It’sawkward,ofcourse,butnotunpleasant.Neverhappenstoeitherofyou,Isuppose?”

JaneandMichaelshooktheirheads.“No,Ithoughtnot.Itseemstobemyownspecialhabit.Once,afterI’dbeen

totheCircusthenightbefore,Ilaughedsomuchthat–wouldyoubelieveit?–Iwasuphereforawholetwelvehours,andcouldn’tgetdowntillthelaststrokeofmidnight.Then,ofcourse,IcamedownwithaflopbecauseitwasSaturdayandnotmybirthdayanymore.It’sratherodd,isn’tit?Nottosayfunny?

“AndnowhereitisFridayagainandmybirthday,andyoutwoandMaryP.to visit me. Oh, Lordy, Lordy, don’t make me laugh, I beg of you—" But

although Jane andMichael had done nothing very amusing, except to stare athiminastonishment,MrWiggbegantolaughagainloudly,andashelaughedhewentbouncingandbobbingabout in theair,with thenewspaperrattling inhishandandhisspectacleshalfonandhalfoffhisnose.

He looked so comic, floundering in the air like a great human bubble,clutchingattheceilingsometimesandsometimesatthegas-bracketashepassedit,thatJaneandMichael,thoughtheyweretryinghardtobepolite,justcouldn’thelp doing what they did. They laughed. And they laughed. They shut theirmouthstighttopreventthelaughterescaping,butthatdidn’tdoanygood.Andpresently theywererollingoverandoveronthefloor,squealingandshriekingwithlaughter.

“Really!”saidMaryPoppins.“Really,suchbehaviour!”“I can’t help it, I can’t help it!” shrieked Michael, as he rolled into the

fender.“It’ssoterriblyfunny.Oh,Jane,isn’titfunny?”Janedidnotreply,foracuriousthingwashappeningtoher.Asshelaughed

she felt herself growing lighter and lighter, just as though she were beingpumpedfullofair.Itwasacuriousanddeliciousfeelinganditmadeherwanttolaughallthemore.Andthensuddenly,withabouncingbounce,shefeltherselfjumping through the air.Michael, to his astonishment, saw her go soaring upthroughtheroom.WithalittlebumpherheadtouchedtheceilingandthenshewentbouncingalongittillshereachedMrWigg.

“Well!” saidMrWigg, looking very surprised indeed. “Don’t tell me it’syourbirthday,too?”Janeshookherhead.

“It’snot?ThenthisLaughingGasmustbecatching!Hi–whoathere,lookoutforthemantelpiece!”ThiswastoMichael,whohadsuddenlyrisenfromthefloorandwasswoopingthroughtheair,roaringwithlaughter,andjustgrazingthechinaornamentsonthemantelpieceashepassed.HelandedwithabouncerightonMrWigg’sknee.

“Howdoyoudo,”saidMrWigg,heartilyshakingMichaelby thehand.“Icallthisreallyfriendlyofyou–blessmysoul,Ido!TocomeuptomesinceIcouldn’tcomedowntoyou–eh?”AndthenheandMichaellookedateachotherandflungbacktheirheadsandsimplyhowledwithlaughter.

“Isay,”saidMrWigg toJane,ashewipedhiseyes.“You’llbe thinkingIhavetheworstmannersintheworld.You’restandingandyououghttobesitting–aniceyoungladylikeyou.I’mafraidIcan’tofferyouachairuphere,butIthinkyou’llfindtheairquitecomfortabletositon.Ido.”

Janetrieditandfoundshecouldsitdownquitecomfortablyontheair.She

tookoffherhatandlaiditdownbesideherandithungthere inspacewithoutanysupportatall.

“That’s right,” said MrWigg. Then he turned and looked down at MaryPoppins.

“Well,Mary,we’refixed.AndnowIcanenquireaboutyou,mydear.Imustsay,Iamverygladtowelcomeyouandmytwoyoungfriendsheretoday–why,Mary,you’refrowning.I’mafraidyoudon’tapproveof–er–allthis.”

HewavedhishandatJaneandMichael,andsaidhurriedly:“Iapologize,Mary,mydear.Butyouknowhowitiswithme.Still,Imust

say Inever thoughtmy twoyoung friendsherewouldcatch it, really Ididn’t,Mary! I suppose I shouldhaveasked themforanotherdayor tried to thinkofsomethingsadorsomething—”

“Well,Imustsay,”saidMaryPoppinsprimly,“thatIhaveneverinmylifeseensuchasight.Andatyourage,Uncle—”

“MaryPoppins,MaryPoppins,docomeup!”interruptedMichael.“Thinkofsomethingfunnyandyou’llfindit’squiteeasy.”

“Ah,nowdo,Mary!”saidMrWiggpersuasively.“We’re lonely up here without you!” said Jane, and held out her arms

towardsMaryPoppins.“Dothinkofsomethingfunny!”“Ah,shedoesn’tneedto,”saidMrWiggsighing.“Shecancomeupifshe

wants to, even without laughing – and she knows it.” And he lookedmysteriouslyandsecretlyatMaryPoppinsasshestooddownthereonthehearthrug.

“Well,” saidMary Poppins, “it’s all very silly and undignified, but, sinceyou’reallupthereanddon’tseemabletogetdown,IsupposeI’dbettercomeup,too.”

Withthat,tothesurpriseofJaneandMichael,sheputherhandsdownathersidesandwithoutalaugh,withouteventhefaintestglimmerofasmile,sheshotupthroughtheairandsatdownbesideJane.

“Howmany times, I should like to know,” she said snappily, “have I toldyoutotakeoffyourcoatwhenyoucomeintoahotroom?”AndsheunbuttonedJane’scoatandlaiditneatlyontheairbesidethehat.

“That’s right, Mary, that’s right,” said Mr Wigg contentedly, as he leantdownandputhisspectaclesonthemantelpiece.“Nowwe’reallcomfortable—”

“There’scomfortandcomfort,”sniffedMaryPoppins.“And we can have tea,” Mr Wigg went on, apparently not noticing her

remark.Andthenastartledlookcameoverhisface.

“My goodness!” he said. “How dreadful! I’ve just realized – the table’sdown there andwe’reuphere.Whatarewegoing todo?We’rehere and it’sthere.It’sanawfultragedy–awful!Butoh,it’sterriblycomic!”Andhehidhisface in his handkerchief and laughed loudly into it. Jane andMichael, thoughtheydidnotwanttomissthecrumpetsandthecakes,couldn’thelplaughingtoo,becauseMrWigg’smirthwassoinfectious.

MrWiggdriedhiseyes.“There’s only one thing for it,” he said. “We must think of something

serious.Somethingsad,verysad.Andthenweshallbeabletogetdown.Now–one,two,three!Somethingverysad,mindyou!”

Theythoughtandthought,withtheirchinsontheirhands.Michaelthoughtofschool,andthatonedayhewouldhavetogothere.But

eventhatseemedfunnytodayandhehadtolaugh.Janethought:“Ishallbegrownupinanotherfourteenyears!”Butthatdidn’t

soundsadatallbutquiteniceandratherfunny.Shecouldnothelpsmilingatthethoughtofherselfgrownup,withlongskirtsandahandbag.

“TherewasmypooroldAuntEmily,”thoughtMrWiggoutloud.“Shewasrunoverbyanomnibus.Sad.Verysad.Unbearablysad.PoorAuntEmily.Buttheysavedherumbrella.Thatwasfunny,wasn’tit?”Andbeforeheknewwherehewas,hewasheavingandtremblingandburstingwithlaughteratthethoughtofAuntEmily’sumbrella.

“It’s no good,” he said, blowing his nose. “I give it up. And my youngfriends here seem to be no better at sadness than I am. Mary, can’t you dosomething?Wewantourtea.”

TothisdayJaneandMichaelcannotbesureofwhathappenedthen.Alltheyknowforcertainisthat,assoonasMrWigghadappealedtoMaryPoppins,thetablebelowbegantowriggleonitslegs.Presentlyitwasswayingdangerously,andthenwitharattleofchinaandwithcakeslurchingofftheirplatesontothecloth, the table came soaring through the room, gave one graceful turn, andlandedbesidethemsothatMrWiggwasatitshead.

“Good girl!” saidMrWigg, smiling proudly upon her. “I knew you’d fixsomething.Now,willyoutakethefootofthetableandpourout,Mary?Andtheguests on either sideofme.That’s the idea,”he said, asMichael ranbobbingthrough the air and sat down onMrWigg’s right. Jane was at his left hand.There theywere, all together, up in the air and the tablebetween them.Not asinglepieceofbread-and-butteroralumpofsugarhadbeenleftbehind.

MrWiggsmiledcontentedly.

“It is usual, I think, to begin with bread-and-butter,” he said to Jane andMichael,“butasit’smybirthdaywewillbeginthewrongway–whichIalwaysthinkistherightway–withtheCake!”

Andhecutalargesliceforeverybody.“More tea?”he said to Jane.But before shehad time to reply therewas a

quick,sharpknockatthedoor.“Comein!”calledMrWigg.Thedooropened,andtherestoodMissPersimmonwithajugofhotwateron

atray.“I thought, Mr Wigg,” she began, looking searchingly round the room,

“you’dbewantingsomemorehot—Well,Inever!Isimplynever!”shesaid,asshecaughtsightofthemallseatedontheairroundthetable.“SuchgoingsonIneverdidsee!InallmyborndaysIneversawsuch.I’msure,MrWigg,Ialwaysknewyouwereabitodd.ButI’veclosedmyeyestoit–beingashowyoupaidyour rent regular.But suchbehaviouras this–having tea in theairwithyourguests –MrWigg, sir, I’m astonished at you! It’s that undignified, and for agentlemanofyourage–Ineverdid—”

“Butperhapsyouwill,MissPersimmon!”saidMichael.“Willwhat?”saidMissPersimmonhaughtily.“CatchtheLaughingGas,aswedid,”saidMichael.MissPersimmonflungbackherheadscornfully.“Ihope,youngman,”sheretorted,“Ihavemorerespectformyself than to

gobouncingaboutintheairlikearubberballontheendofabat.I’llstayonmyownfeet,thankyou,ormyname’snotAmyPersimmon,and–ohdear,ohdear,mygoodness,ohDEAR–what is thematter? I can’twalk, I’mgoing, I–oh,help,HELP!”

ForMiss Persimmon, quite against her will, was off the ground and wasstumbling through the air, rolling from side to side like a very thin barrel,balancing the tray in her hand. She was almost weeping with distress as shearrivedatthetableandputdownherjugofhotwater.

“Thankyou,”saidMaryPoppinsinacalm,verypolitevoice.ThenMissPersimmonturnedandwentwaftingdownagain,murmuringas

she went: “So undignified – and me a well-behaved, steady-going woman. Imustseeadoctor—”

Whenshetouchedthefloorsheranhurriedlyoutoftheroom,wringingherhands,andnotgivingasingleglancebackwards.

“Soundignified!”theyheardhermoaningassheshutthedoorbehindher.

“Her name can’t beAmyPersimmon, because shedidn’t stay on her ownfeet!”whisperedJanetoMichael.

ButMrWiggwas lookingatMaryPoppins–acurious look,half-amused,half-accusing.

“Mary,Mary,youshouldn’t–blessmysoul,youshouldn’t,Mary.Thepoorold bodywill never get over it. But, oh,my goodness, didn’t she look funnywaddlingthroughtheair–myGraciousgoodness,butdidn’tshe?”

AndheandJaneandMichaelwereoffagain,rollingabouttheair,clutchingtheir sides and gasping with laughter at the thought of how funny MissPersimmonhadlooked.

“Ohdear!”saidMichael.“Don’tmakemelaughanymore.Ican’tstandit.Ishallbreak!”

“Oh,oh,oh!”cried Jane, as shegasped forbreath,withherhandoverherheart.

“Oh, my Gracious, Glorious, Galumphing Goodness!” roared Mr Wigg,dabbinghiseyeswithhiscoat-tailbecausehecouldn’tfindhishandkerchief.

“ITISTIMETOGOHOME.”MaryPoppins’voicesoundedabovetheroarsoflaughterlikeatrumpet.

And suddenly, with a rush, Jane and Michael and MrWigg came down.Theylandedonthefloorwithahugebump,alltogether.Thethoughtthattheywould have to go home was the first sad thought of the afternoon, and themomentitwasintheirmindstheLaughingGaswentoutofthem.

JaneandMichaelsighedastheywatchedMaryPoppinscomeslowlydowntheair,carryingJane’scoatandhat.

MrWiggsighed,too.Agreat,long,heavysigh.“Well,isn’tthatapity?”hesaidsoberly.“It’sverysadthatyou’vegottogo

home.Ineverenjoyedanafternoonsomuch–didyou?”“Never,”saidMichaelsadly,feelinghowdullitwastobedownontheearth

againwithnoLaughingGasinsidehim.“Never, never,” said Jane, as she stood on tiptoe and kissed Mr Wigg’s

withered-applecheeks.“Never,never,never,never...!”

TheysatoneithersideofMaryPoppinsgoinghomeintheBus.Theywerebothveryquiet,thinkingoverthelovelyafternoon.PresentlyMichaelsaidsleepilytoMaryPoppins:

“HowoftendoesyourUnclegetlikethat?”“Likewhat?”saidMaryPoppinssharply,asthoughMichaelhaddeliberately

saidsomethingtooffendher.“Well–allbouncyandboundyandlaughingandgoingupintheair.”“Up in the air?”Mary Poppins’ voicewas high and angry. “What do you

mean,pray,upintheair?”Janetriedtoexplain.“Michaelmeans – is yourUncle often full of LaughingGas, and does he

oftengorollingandbobbingaboutontheceilingwhen—”“Rolling and bobbing!What an idea! Rolling and bobbing on the ceiling!

You’llbetellingmenexthe’saballoon!”MaryPoppinsgaveanoffendedsniff.“Buthedid!”saidMichael.“Wesawhim.”“What,rollandbob?Howdareyou!I’llhaveyouknowthatmyUncleisa

sober, honest, hard-workingman, and you’ll be kind enough to speak of himrespectfully.Anddon’tbiteyourBusticket!Rollandbob,indeed–theidea!”

Michael and Jane looked across Mary Poppins at each other. They saidnothing,fortheyhadlearntthatitwasbetternottoarguewithMaryPoppins,nomatterhowoddanythingseemed.

Butthelookthatpassedbetweenthemsaid:“Isittrueorisn’tit?AboutMrWigg.IsMaryPoppinsrightorarewe?”

Buttherewasnobodytogivethemtherightanswer.TheBusroaredon,wildlylurchingandbounding.MaryPoppinssatbetweenthem,offendedandsilent,andpresently,because

theywereverytired,theycreptclosertoherandleantupagainsthersidesandfellasleep,stillwondering...

ChapterFour

MISSLARK’SANDREW

MISSLARKLIVEDNextDoor.ButbeforewegoanyfurtherImusttellyouwhatNextDoorlookedlike.It

wasaverygrandhouse,byfarthegrandestinCherryTreeLane.EvenAdmiralBoomhadbeenknowntoenvyMissLarkherwonderfulhouse,thoughhisownhadship’sfunnelsinsteadofchimneysandaflagstaffinthefrontgarden.OverandoveragaintheinhabitantsoftheLaneheardhimsayasherolledpastMissLark’smansion:“Blastmygizzard!Whatdoesshewantwithahouselikethat?”

And the reason of Admiral Boom’s jealousy was thatMiss Lark had twogates. One was for Miss Lark’s friends and relations, and the other for theButcherandtheBakerandtheMilkman.

Once theBakermadeamistakeandcame in through thegate reserved forthefriendsandrelations,andMissLarkwassoangrythatshesaidshewouldn’thaveanymorebreadever.

ButintheendshehadtoforgivetheBakerbecausehewastheonlyoneintheneighbourhoodwhomadethoselittleflatrollswiththecurlytwistsofcrustonthetop.Sheneverreallylikedhimverymuchafterthat,however,andwhenhecamehepulledhishatfardownoverhiseyessothatMissLarkmightthinkhewassomebodyelse.Butsheneverdid.

JaneandMichaelalwaysknewwhenMissLarkwasinthegardenorcomingalongtheLane,becausesheworesomanybroochesandnecklacesandearringsthatshejingledandjangledjustlikeabrassband.Andwhenevershemetthem,shealwayssaidthesamething:

“Goodmorning!”(or“Goodafternoon!”ifithappenedtobeafterluncheon),“andhowarewetoday?”

AndJaneandMichaelwereneverquitesurewhetherMissLarkwasaskinghowtheywere,orhowsheandAndrewwere.

Sotheyjustreplied:“Goodafternoon!”(or,ofcourse,“Goodmorning!”ifitwasbeforeluncheon).

Alldaylong,nomatterwherethechildrenwere,theycouldhearMissLark

calling,inaveryloudvoice,thingslike:“Andrew,whereareyou?”or“Andrew,youmustn’tgooutwithoutyourovercoat!”or“Andrew,cometoMother!”And,ifyoudidn’tknow,youwouldthinkthatAndrewmustbealittleboy.

Indeed,Jane thought thatMissLark thought thatAndrewwasa littleboy.ButAndrewwasn’t.Hewasadog–oneofthosesmall,silky,fluffydogsthatlooklikeafurnecklet,untiltheybegintobark.But,ofcourse,whentheydothatyouknowthatthey’redogs.Nofurneckletevermadeanoiselikethat.

Now,AndrewledsuchaluxuriouslifethatyoumighthavethoughthewastheShahofPersiaindisguise.HesleptonasilkpillowinMissLark’sroom;hewentbycar to theHairdresser’s twiceaweek tobeshampooed;hehadcreamfor every meal and sometimes oysters, and he possessed four overcoats withchecksandstripesindifferentcolours.Andrew’sordinarydayswerefilledwiththe kind of things most people have only on birthdays. And when Andrewhimselfhadabirthdayhehadtwocandlesonhiscakeforeveryyear,insteadofonlyone.

The effect of all this was to make Andrew very much disliked in theneighbourhood.PeopleusedtolaughheartilywhentheysawAndrewsittingupinthebackseatofMissLark’scaronthewaytotheHairdresser’s,withthefurrugoverhiskneesandhisbestcoaton.AndonthedaywhenMissLarkboughthimtwopairsofsmallleatherbootssothathecouldgooutintheParkwetorfine,everybodyintheLanecamedowntotheirfrontgatestowatchhimgobyandtosmilesecretlybehindtheirhands.

“Pooh!” saidMichael, as theywerewatchingAndrewoneday through thefence that separated Number Seventeen from Next Door. “Pooh, he’s aninkypoop!”

“Howdoyouknow?”askedJane,veryinterested.“Iknowbecause I heardDaddycall himone thismorning!” saidMichael,

andhelaughedatAndrewveryrudely.“Heisnotanincompoop,”saidMaryPoppins.“Andthatisthat.”AndMary Poppins was right. Andrew wasn’t a nincompoop, as you will

verysoonsee.YoumustnotthinkhedidnotrespectMissLark.Hedid.Hewasevenfond

of her in a mild sort of way. He couldn’t help having a kindly feeling forsomebodywhohadbeensogoodtohimeversincehewasapuppy,evenifshedid kiss him rather too often. But there was no doubt about it that the life

Andrewledboredhimtodistraction.Hewouldhavegivenhalfhisfortune,ifhehadone,foranicepieceofraw,redmeat,insteadoftheusualbreastofchickenorscrambledeggswithasparagus.

Forinhissecret, innermostheart,Andrewlongedtobeacommondog.Henever passed his pedigree (which hung on the wall in Miss Lark’s drawingroom)withoutashudderofshame.Andmanyatimehewishedhe’dneverhadafather, nor a grandfather, nor a great-grandfather, if Miss Lark was going tomakesuchafussofit.

It was this desire of his to be a common dog that made Andrew choosecommondogs for his friends.Andwhenever he got the chance, hewould rundowntothefrontgateandsittherewatchingforthem,sothathecouldexchangeafewcommonremarks.ButMissLark,whenshediscoveredhim,wouldbesuretocallout:

“Andrew, Andrew, come in,my darling! Come away from those dreadfulstreetarabs!”

AndofcourseAndrewwouldhave tocomein,orMissLarkwouldshamehimbycomingoutandbringinghimin.AndAndrewwouldblushandhurryupthestepssothathisfriendsshouldnothearhercallinghimherPrecious,herJoy,herLittleLumpofSugar.

Andrew’smostspecialfriendwasmorethancommon,hewasaByword.HewashalfanAiredaleandhalfaRetrieverandtheworsthalfofboth.Whenevertherewasa fight in the roadhewouldbe sure tobe in the thickof it;hewasalways getting into troublewith thePostman or thePoliceman, and therewasnothinghelovedbetterthansniffingaboutindrainsorgarbagetins.Hewas,infact,thetalkofthewholestreet,andmorethanonepersonhadbeenheardtosaythankfullythattheyweregladhewasnottheirdog.

ButAndrewlovedhimandwascontinuallyonthewatchforhim.Sometimestheyhadonly time toexchangea sniff in thePark,buton luckieroccasions–thoughthesewereveryrare–theywouldhavelongtalksatthegate.Fromhisfriend,Andrewheardallthetowngossip,andyoucouldseebytherudewayinwhichtheotherdoglaughedashetoldit,thatitwasn’tverycomplimentary.

Then suddenly,MissLark’s voicewouldbeheard calling fromawindow,andtheotherdogwouldgetup,lollouthistongueatMissLark,winkatAndrewandwanderoff,wavinghishindquartersashewentjust toshowthathedidn’tcare.

Andrew,ofcourse,wasneverallowedoutsidethegateunlesshewentwithMiss Lark for a walk in the Park, or with one of the maids to have his toes

manicured.Imagine,then,thesurpriseofJaneandMichaelwhentheysawAndrew,all

alone,careeringpastthemthroughthePark,withhisearsbackandhistailupasthoughhewereonthetrackofatiger.

MaryPoppinspulledtheperambulatorupwithajerk,incaseAndrew,inhiswild flight, shouldupset it and theTwins.And Jane andMichael screamedathimashepassed.

“Hi,Andrew!Where’syourovercoat?”criedMichael,tryingtomakeahigh,windyvoicelikeMissLark’s.

“Andrew,younaughtylittleboy!’saidJane,andhervoice,becauseshewasagirl,wasmuchmorelikeMissLark’s.

ButAndrewjust lookedat thembothveryhaughtilyandbarkedsharply inthedirectionofMaryPoppins.

“Yay-yap!”saidAndrewseveraltimesveryquickly.“Letmesee.Ithinkit’sthefirstonyourrightandsecondhouseontheleft-

handside,”saidMaryPoppins.“Yap?”saidAndrew.“No–nogarden.Onlyabackyard.Gate’susuallyopen.”Andrewbarkedagain.“I’mnot sure,” saidMaryPoppins. “But I should think so.Generallygoes

homeatteatime.”Andrewflungbackhisheadandsetoffagainatagallop.Jane’seyesandMichael’swereroundassaucerswithsurprise.“Whatwashesaying?”theydemandedbreathlessly,bothtogether.“Just passing the time of day!” said Mary Poppins, and shut her mouth

tightlyasthoughshedidnotintendanymorewordstoescapefromit.JohnandBarbaragurgledfromtheirperambulator.

“Hewasn’t!”saidMichael.“Hecouldn’thavebeen!”saidJane.“Well,youknowbest,ofcourse.Asusual,”saidMaryPoppinshaughtily.“Hemusthavebeenaskingyouwheresomebodylived,I’msurehemust—”

Michaelbegan.“Well, if you know, why bother to askme?” saidMary Poppins sniffing.

“I’mnodictionary.”“Oh,Michael,” said Jane, “she’ll never tell us if you talk like that.Mary

Poppins,dosaywhatAndrewwassayingtoyou,please.”“Askhim.Heknows–MrKnow-All!”saidMaryPoppins,noddingherhead

scornfullyatMichael.“Ohno,Idon’t.IpromiseIdon’t,MaryPoppins.Dotell.”“Half past three. Tea time,” said Mary Poppins, and she wheeled the

perambulatorroundandshuthermouthtightagainasthoughitwereatrapdoor.Shedidnotsayanotherwordallthewayhome.

JanedroppedbehindwithMichael.“It’syourfault!”shesaid.“Nowwe’llneverknow.”“Idon’tcare!”saidMichael,andhebegantopushhisscooterveryquickly.

“Idon’twanttoknow.”Buthedidwanttoknowverybadlyindeed.Andasitturnedout,heandJane

andeverybodyelseknewallaboutitbeforeteatime.Justastheywereabouttocrosstheroadtotheirownhouse,theyheardloud

criescomingfromNextDoor,and there theysawacurioussight.MissLark’stwomaidswere rushingwildlyabout thegarden, lookingunderbushesandupinto the trees as people dowhohave lost theirmost valuable possession.AndtherewasRobertsonAy, fromNumber Seventeen, busilywasting his time bypokingatthegravelonMissLark’spathwithabroomasthoughheexpectedtofindthemissingtreasureunderapebble.MissLarkherselfwasrunningaboutinhergarden,wavingherarmsandcalling:“Andrew,Andrew!Oh,he’slost.Mydarlingboyislost!WemustsendforthePolice.ImustseethePrimeMinister.Andrewislost!Ohdear!Ohdear!”

“Oh, poorMiss Lark!” said Jane, hurrying across the road. She could nothelpfeelingsorrybecauseMissLarklookedsoupset.

ButitwasMichaelwhoreallycomfortedMissLark.JustashewasgoinginatthegateofNumberSeventeen,helookeddowntheLaneandtherehesaw—

“Why, there’sAndrew,MissLark.See,down there– just turningAdmiralBoom’scorner!”

“Where,where?Showme!”saidMissLarkbreathlessly,andshepeered inthedirectioninwhichMichaelwaspointing.

Andthere,sureenough,wasAndrew,walkingasslowlyandascasuallyasthoughnothingintheworldwasthematter;andbesidehimwaltzedahugedogthat seemed to be half anAiredale andhalf aRetriever, and theworst half ofboth.

“Oh,what a relief!” saidMiss Lark, sighing loudly. “What a load offmymind!”

MaryPoppinsandthechildrenwaitedintheLaneoutsideMissLark’sgate.MissLarkherselfandhertwomaidsleantoverthefence,RobertsonAy,resting

from his labours, propped himself upwith his broom-handle, and all of themwatchedinsilencethereturnofAndrew.

He and his friend marched sedately up to the group, whisking their tailsjauntily and keeping their earswell cocked, and you could tell by the look inAndrew’seyethat,whateverhemeant,hemeantbusiness.

“That dreadful dog!” said Miss Lark, looking at Andrew’s companion.“Shoo!Shoo!Gohome!”shecried.

Butthedogjustsatdownonthepavementandscratchedhisrightearwithhisleftlegandyawned.

“Goaway!Gohome!Shoo,Isay!”saidMissLark,wavingherarmsangrilyatthedog.

“Andyou,Andrew,”shewenton,“comeindoorsthisminute!Goingoutlikethat–allaloneandwithoutyourovercoat.Iamverydispleasedwithyou!”

Andrewbarkedlazily,butdidnotmove.“Whatdoyoumean,Andrew?Comeinatonce!”saidMissLark.Andrewbarkedagain.“Hesays,”putinMaryPoppins,“thathe’snotcomingin.”MissLarkturnedandregardedherhaughtily.“Howdoyouknowwhatmy

dogsays,mayIask?Ofcoursehewillcomein.”Andrew,however,merelyshookhisheadandgaveoneortwolowgrowls.“Hewon’t,”saidMaryPoppins.“Notunlesshisfriendcomes,too.”“Stuffandnonsense,”saidMissLarkcrossly.“Thatcan’tbewhathesays.

AsifIcouldhaveagreathulkingmongrellikethatinsidemygate.”Andrewyappedthreeorfourtimes.“Hesayshemeansit,”saidMaryPoppins.“Andwhat’smore,he’llgoand

livewithhisfriendunlesshisfriendisallowedtocomeandlivewithhim.”“Oh,Andrew,youcan’t–youcan’t,really–afterallI’vedoneforyouand

everything!”MissLarkwasnearlyweeping.Andrewbarkedandturnedaway.Theotherdoggotup.“Oh,hedoesmeanit!”criedMissLark.“Iseehedoes.Heisgoingaway.”

Shesobbedamomentintoherhandkerchief,thensheblewhernoseandsaid:“Verywell, then,Andrew.Igive in.This– thiscommondogcanstay.On

condition,ofcourse,thathesleepsinthecoal-cellar.”“Heinsists,ma’am,that thatwon’tdo.Hisfriendmusthaveasilkcushion

just likehisandsleep inyourroomtoo.Otherwisehewillgoandsleep in thecoal-cellarwithhisfriend,”saidMaryPoppins.

“Andrew, how could you?” moanedMiss Lark. “I shall never consent to

suchathing.”Andrewlookedasthoughhewerepreparingtodepart.Sodidtheotherdog.“Oh, he’s leavingme!” shriekedMiss Lark. “Very well, then, Andrew. It

willbeasyouwish.Heshallsleepinmyroom.ButIshallneverbe thesameagain,never,never.Suchacommondog!”

Shewipedherstreamingeyesandwenton:“I should never have thought it of you,Andrew.But I’ll say nomore, no

matterwhatIthink.Andthis–er–creature–IshallhavetocallWaiforStrayor—”

At that the other dog looked at Miss Lark very indignantly, and Andrewbarkedloudly.

“They say you must call him Willoughby and nothing else,” said MaryPoppins.“Willoughbybeinghisname.”

“Willoughby! What a name! Worse and worse!” said Miss Larkdespairingly.“Whatishesayingnow?”ForAndrewwasbarkingagain.

“HesaysthatifhecomesbackyouarenevertomakehimwearovercoatsorgototheHairdresser’sagain–that’shislastword,”saidMaryPoppins.

Therewasapause.“Verywell,”saidMissLarkatlast.“ButIwarnyou,Andrew,ifyoucatch

yourdeathofcold–don’tblameme!”Andwith that she turnedandwalkedhaughtilyup the steps, sniffingaway

thelastofhertears.AndrewcockedhisheadtowardsWilloughbyasif tosay:“Comeon!”and

theother twoof themwaltzedsidebyside slowlyup thegardenpath,wavingtheirtailslikebanners,andfollowedMissLarkintothehouse.

“Heisn’taninkypoopafterall,yousee,”saidJane,astheywentupstairstothenurseryandTea.

“No,”agreedMichael.“ButhowdoyouthinkMaryPoppinsknew?”“I don’t know,” said Jane. “And she’ll never, never tell us. I am sure of

that...”

ChapterFive

THEDANCINGCOW

JANE,WITHHER head tied up inMaryPoppins’ bandannahandkerchief,was inbedwithearache.

“Whatdoesitfeellike?”Michaelwantedtoknow.“Likegunsgoingoffinsidemyhead,”saidJane.“Cannons?”“No,pop-guns.”“Oh,” saidMichael. And he almost wished he could have earache, too. It

soundedsoexciting.“ShallItellyouastoryoutofoneofthebooks?”saidMichael,goingtothe

bookshelf.“No.Ijustcouldn’tbearit,”saidJane,holdingherearwithherhand.“Well,shallIsitatthewindowandtellyouwhatishappeningoutside?”“Yes,do,”saidJane.SoMichael sat all the afternoonon thewindowseat tellingher everything

that occurred in the Lane. And sometimes his accounts were very dull andsometimesveryexciting.

“There’sAdmiralBoom!”hesaidonce.“HehascomeoutofhisgateandishurryingdowntheLane.Herehecomes.Hisnoseisredderthaneverandhe’swearingatophat.NowheispassingNextDoor—”

“Ishesaying‘Blastmygizzard!’?”enquiredJane.“I can’t hear. I expect so. There’sMiss Lark’s second housemaid inMiss

Lark’sgarden.AndRobertsonAyisinourgarden,sweepinguptheleavesandlookingatheroverthefence.Heissittingdownnow,havingarest.”

“Hehasaweakheart,”saidJane.“Howdoyouknow?”“Hetoldme.Hesaidhisdoctorsaidhewastodoaslittleaspossible.AndI

heardDaddy say ifRobertsonAydoeswhat his doctor told him to he’ll sackhim.Oh,howitbangsandbangs!”saidJane,clutchingherearagain.

“Hulloh!”saidMichaelexcitedlyfromthewindow.

“Whatisit?”criedJane,sittingup.“Dotellme.”“Averyextraordinarything.There’sacowdownintheLane,”saidMichael,

jumpingupanddownonthewindowseat.“A cow?A real cow – right in themiddle of a town?How funny!Mary

Poppins,”saidJane,“there’sacowintheLane,Michaelsays.”“Yes, and it’s walking very slowly, putting its head over every gate and

lookingroundasthoughithadlostsomething.”“IwishIcouldseeit,”saidJanemournfully.“Look!” saidMichael, pointing downwards asMary Poppins came to the

window.“Acow.Isn’tthatfunny?”MaryPoppins gave a quick, sharp glance down into theLane. She started

withsurprise.“Certainlynot,”shesaid,turningtoJaneandMichael.“It’snotfunnyatall.I

know that cow. Shewas a great friend ofmyMother’s and I’ll thank you tospeak politely to her.” She smoothed her apron and looked at themboth veryseverely.

“Haveyouknownherlong?”enquiredMichaelgently,hopingthatifhewasparticularlypolitehewouldhearsomethingmoreaboutthecow.

“SincebeforeshesawtheKing,”saidMaryPoppins.“Andwhenwasthat?”askedJane,inasoftencouragingvoice.Mary Poppins stared into space, her eyes fixed upon something that they

couldnotsee.JaneandMichaelheldtheirbreath,waiting.“Itwaslongago,”saidMaryPoppins,inabroodingstory-tellingvoice.She

paused,asthoughshewererememberingeventsthathappenedhundredsofyearsbeforethattime.Thenshewentondreamily,stillgazingintothemiddleoftheroom,butwithoutseeinganything.

TheRedCow–that’sthenameshewentby.Andveryimportantandprosperousshewas,too(somyMothersaid).Shelivedinthebestfieldinthewholedistrict–alargeonefullofbuttercupsthesizeofsaucersanddandelionsstandingupinitlikesoldiers.Everytimesheatetheheadoffonesoldier,anothergrewupinitsplace,withagreenmilitarycoatandayellowbusby.

She had lived there always – she often told myMother that she couldn’trememberthetimewhenshehadn’tlivedinthatfield.Herworldwasboundedbygreenhedgesandtheskyandsheknewnothingofwhatlaybeyondthese.

TheRedCowwasveryrespectable,shealwaysbehavedlikeaperfectladyandsheknewWhatwasWhat.Toherathingwaseitherblackorwhite–there

wasnothinginbetween.Dandelionswereeithersweetorsour–therewereneveranymoderatelyniceones.

Sheledaverybusylife.HermorningsweretakenupingivinglessonstotheRedCalf,herdaughter,andintheafternoonshetaughtthelittleonedeportmentandmooingandallthethingsareallywellbroughtupcalfshouldknow.Thentheyhad their supper, and theRedCow showed theRedCalf how to select agoodblade of grass froma bad one; andwhenher child had gone to sleep atnightshewouldgointoacornerofthefieldandchewthecudandthinkherownquietthoughts.

Allherdayswereexactlythesame.OneRedCalfgrewupandwentawayand another came in its place. And it was natural that the Red Cow shouldimaginethatherlifewouldalwaysbethesameasithadalwaysbeen–indeed,shefeltthatshecouldaskfornothingbetterthanforallherdaystobealiketillshecametotheendofthem.

Butat theverymomentshewas thinking these thoughts,adventure,assheafterwardstoldmyMother,wasstalkingher.Itcameuponheronenightwhenthestarsthemselveslookedlikedandelionsintheskyandthemoonagreatdaisyamongthestars.

On this night, long after the Red Calf was asleep, the Red Cow stood upsuddenlyandbegantodance.Shedancedwildlyandbeautifullyandinperfecttime,thoughshehadnomusictogoby.Sometimesitwasapolka,sometimesaHighlandFlingandsometimesaspecialdancethatshemadeupoutofherownhead.Andinbetweenthesedancesshewouldcurtseyandmakesweepingbowsandknockherheadagainstthedandelions.

“Dear me!” said the Red Cow to herself, as she began on a Sailor’sHornpipe.“Whatanextraordinarything!Ialwaysthoughtdancingimproper,butitcan’tbesinceImyselfamdancing.ForIamamodelcow.”

Andshewentondancing,andthoroughlyenjoyingherself.Atlast,however,shegrewtiredanddecidedthatshehaddancedenoughandthatshewouldgotosleep.But,tohergreatsurprise,shefoundthatshecouldnotstopdancing.WhenshewenttoliedownbesidetheRedCalf,herlegswouldnotlether.Theywenton capering and prancing and, of course, carrying her with them. Round androundthefieldshewent,leapingandwaltzingandsteppingontiptoe.

“Dearme!” shemurmured at intervals with a ladylike accent. “How verypeculiar!”Butshecouldn’tstop.

In the morning she was still dancing and the Red Calf had to take itsbreakfastofdandelionsallbyitselfbecausetheRedCowcouldnotremainstill

enoughtoeat.All through the day she danced, up and down themeadow and round and

round themeadow,with theRedCalfmooingpiteouslybehindher.When thesecondnightcame,andshewasstillatitandstillcouldnotstop,shegrewveryworried.Andattheendofaweekofdancingshewasnearlydistracted.

“ImustgoandseetheKingaboutit,”shedecided,shakingherhead.So she kissed her Red Calf and told it to be good. Then she turned and

dancedoutofthemeadowandwenttotelltheKing.Shedancedalltheway,snatchinglittlespraysofgreenfoodfromthehedges

asshewent,andeveryeye thatsawherstaredwithastonishment.ButnoneofthemweremoreastonishedthantheRedCowherself.

AtlastshecametothePalacewheretheKinglived.Shepulledthebell-ropewith hermouth, andwhen the gate opened she danced through it and up thebroad garden path till she came to the flight of steps that led to the King’sthrone.

Upon this the King was sitting, busily making a new set of Laws. HisSecretarywaswritingthemdownina littlerednotebook,oneafteranother,asthe King thought of them. There were Courtiers and Ladies-in-Waitingeverywhere,allverygorgeouslydressedandalltalkingatonce.

“Howmanyhave Imade today?”asked theKing, turning to theSecretary.TheSecretarycountedtheLawshehadwrittendownintherednotebook.

“Seventy-two,yourMajesty,”hesaid,bowinglowandtakingcarenottotripoverhisquillpen,whichwasaverylargeone.

“H’m.Notbadforanhour’swork,”saidtheKing,lookingverypleasedwithhimself.“That’senoughfortoday.”Hestoodupandarrangedhiserminecloakverytastefully.

“Ordermycoach.ImustgototheBarber’s,”hesaidmagnificently.ItwasthenthathenoticedtheRedCowapproaching.Hesatdownagainand

tookuphissceptre.“Whathavewehere,ho?”hedemanded,astheRedCowdancedtothefoot

ofthesteps.“ACow,yourMajesty!”sheansweredsimply.“Icanseethat,” saidtheKing.“Istillhavemyeyesight.Butwhatdoyou

want?Bequick,becauseIhaveanappointmentwiththeBarberatten.Hewon’twaitformelongerthanthatandImusthavemyhaircut.Andforgoodness’sakestopjiggingandjaggingaboutlikethat!”headdedirritably.“Itmakesmequitegiddy.”

“Quitegiddy!”echoedalltheCourtiers,staring.“That’s just my trouble, your Majesty. I can’t stop!” said the Red Cow

piteously.“Can’tstop?”Nonsense!”saidtheKingfuriously.“Stopatonce!I,theKing,

commandyou!”“Stopatonce!TheKingcommandsyou!”criedalltheCourtiers.The Red Cowmade a great effort. She tried so hard to stop dancing that

everymuscleandevery rib stoodout likemountain rangesalloverher.But itwasnogood.ShejustwentondancingatthefootoftheKing’ssteps.

“Ihave tried, yourMajesty.And I can’t. I’vebeendancingnow for sevendaysrunning.AndI’vehadnosleep.Andverylittletoeat.Awhitethornsprayortwo–that’sall.SoI’vecometoaskyouradvice.”

“H’m – very curious,” said the King, pushing the crown on one side andscratchinghishead.

“Verycurious,”saidtheCourtiers,scratchingtheirheads,too.“Whatdoesitfeellike?”askedtheKing.“Funny,”saidtheRedCow.“Andyet,”shepaused,asifchoosingherwords,

“it’s rather a pleasant feeling, too. As if laughter were running up and downinsideme.”

“Extraordinary,”saidtheKing,andheputhischinonhishandandstaredattheRedCow,ponderingonwhatwasthebestthingtodo.

Suddenlyhesprangtohisfeetandsaid:“Goodgracious!”“Whatisit?”criedalltheCourtiers.“Why,don’tyousee?”saidtheKing,gettingveryexcitedanddroppinghis

sceptre.“WhatanidiotIwasnottohavenoticeditbefore.Andwhatidiotsyouwere!” He turned furiously upon the Courtiers. “Don’t you see that there’s afallenstarcaughtonherhorn?”

“Sothereis!”criedtheCourtiers,astheyallsuddenlynoticedthestarforthefirsttime.Andastheylookeditseemedtothemthatthestargrewbrighter.

“That’swhat’swrong!”saidtheKing.“Now,youCourtiershadbetterpullitoff so that this– er– ladycan stopdancingandhave somebreakfast. It’s thestar,madam, that ismakingyoudance,”hesaid to theRedCow.“Now,comealong,you!”

And he motioned to the Chief Courtier, who presented himself smartlybefore theRedCow and began to tug at the star. Itwould not come off. TheChiefCourtierwasjoinedbyoneafteranotheroftheCourtiers,untilatlastthere

wasalongchainofthem,eachholdingthemaninfrontofhimbythewaist,andatug-of-warbeganbetweentheCourtiersandthestar.

“Mindmyhead!”entreatedtheRedCow.“Pullharder!”roaredtheKing.They pulled harder. They pulled until their faces were red as raspberries.

They pulled till they could pull no longer and all fell back, one on top of theother.Thestardidnotmove.Itremainedfirmlyfixedtothehorn.

“Tch,tch,tch!”saidtheKing.“Secretary,lookintheEncyclopædiaandseewhatitsaysaboutcowswithstarsontheirhorns.”

TheSecretarykneltdownandbegantocrawlunderthethrone.Presentlyheemerged,carryinga largegreenbookwhichwasalwayskept there incase theKingwantedtoknowanything.

Heturnedthepages.“There’s nothing at all, your Majesty, except the story of the CowWho

JumpedOvertheMoon,andyouknowallaboutthat.”TheKingrubbedhischin,becausethathelpedhimtothink.HesighedirritablyandlookedattheRedCow.“AllIcansay,”hesaid,“isthatyou’dbettertrythattoo.”“Trywhat?”saidtheRedCow.“Jumpingoverthemoon.Itmighthaveaneffect.Worthtrying,anyway.”“Me?”saidtheRedCow,withanoutragedstare.“Yes,you–whoelse?”saidtheKingimpatiently.Hewasanxioustogetto

theBarber’s.“Sire,” said the Red Cow, “I beg you to remember that I am a decent

respectableanimalandhavebeentaughtfrommyinfancythatjumpingwasnooccupationforalady.”

TheKingstoodupandshookhissceptreather.“Madam,”hesaid,“youcamehereformyadviceandIhavegivenittoyou.

Doyouwanttogoondancingforever?Doyouwanttogohungryforever?Doyouwanttogosleeplessforever?”

TheRedCowthoughtofthelushsweettasteofdandelions.Shethoughtofmeadowgrassandhowsoftitwastolieon.Shethoughtofherweary,caperinglegsandhownice itwouldbe to rest them.Andshesaid toherself:“Perhaps,justforonce,itwouldn’tmatterandnobody–excepttheKing–needknow.”

“Howhighdoyousupposeitis?”shesaidaloudasshedanced.TheKinglookedupattheMoon.“Atleastamile,Ishouldthink,”saidhe.

TheRedCownodded.She thought so, too.For amoment she considered,andthenshemadeuphermind.

“I never thought that I should come to this, yourMajesty. Jumping – andoverthemoonatthat.But–I’lltryit,”shesaidandcurtseyedgracefullytothethrone.

“Good,”saidtheKingpleasantly,realizingthathewouldbeintimefortheBarber,afterall.“Followme!”

Heledthewayintothegarden,andtheRedCowandtheCourtiersfollowedhim.

“Now,” said theKing,when he reached the open lawn, “when I blow thewhistle–jump!”

He took a large goldenwhistle fromhiswaistcoat pocket and blew into itlightlytomakesuretherewasnodustinit.

TheRedCowdancedatattention.“Now–one!”saidtheKing.“Two!”“Three!”Thenheblewthewhistle.TheRedCow,drawinginherbreath,gaveonehuge,tremendousjumpand

theearth fell awaybeneathher.Shecould see the figuresof theKingand theCourtiersgrowingsmallerandsmalleruntiltheydisappearedbelow.Sheherselfshot upwards through the sky, with the stars spinning around her like greatgoldenplates,andpresently,inblindinglight,shefeltthecoldraysofthemoonuponher.Sheshuthereyesasshewentoverit,andasthedazzlinggleampassedbehindherandshebentherhead towards theearthagain,shefelt thestarslipdownherhorn.Withagreatrushitfelloffandwentrollingdownthesky.Anditseemedtoherthatasitdisappearedintothedarknessgreatchordsofmusiccamefromitandechoedthroughtheair.

InanotherminutetheRedCowhadlandedontheearthagain.Tohergreatsurprise she found that she was not in the King’s garden but in her owndandelionfield.

Andshehadstoppeddancing!Herfeetwereassteadyasthoughtheyweremadeofstoneandshewalkedassedatelyasanyotherrespectablecow.Quietlyand serenely shemoved across the field, beheadingher golden soldiers as shewenttogreettheRedCalf.

“I’msogladyou’reback!”saidtheRedCalf.“I’vebeensolonely.”TheRedCowkissed it and fell tomunching themeadow. Itwas her first

goodmealforaweek.Andbythetimeherhungerwassatisfiedshehadeatenupseveralregiments.Afterthatshefeltbetter.Shesoonbegantoliveherlifejustexactlyasshehadliveditbefore.

Atfirstsheenjoyedherquietregularhabitsverymuch,andwasgladtobeabletoeatherbreakfastwithoutdancingandtoliedowninthegrassandsleepatnightinsteadofcurtseyingtothemoonuntilthemorning.

But after a little she began to feel uncomfortable and dissatisfied. HerdandelionfieldandherRedCalfwereallverywell,butshewantedsomethingelseandshecouldn’tthinkwhatitwas.Atlastsherealizedthatshewasmissingherstar.ShehadgrownsousedtodancingandtothehappyfeelingthestarhadgivenherthatshewantedtodoaSailor’sHornpipeandtohavethestaronherhornagain.

She fretted, she lost her appetite, her temper was atrocious. And shefrequently burst into tears for no reason at all. Eventually, she went to myMotherandtoldherthewholestoryandaskedheradvice.

“Goodgracious,mydear!”myMothersaidtoher.“Youdon’tsupposethatonlyonestareverfelloutofthesky!Billionsfalleverynight,I’mtold.Buttheyfallindifferentplaces,ofcourse.Youcan’texpecttwostarstodropinthesamefieldinonelifetime.”

“Then,youthink–ifImovedaboutabit—?”theRedCowbegan,ahappy,eagerlookcomingintohereyes.

“Ifitwereme,”saidmyMother,“I’dgoandlookforone.”“Iwill,”saidtheRedCowjoyously.“Iwillindeed.”

MaryPoppinspaused.“Andthat,Isuppose,iswhyshewaswalkingdownCherryTreeLane,”Jane

promptedgently.“Yes,”whisperedMichael,“shewaslookingforherstar.”MaryPoppins sat upwith a little start.The intent lookhadgone fromher

eyesandthestillnessfromherbody.“Comedownfromthatwindowatonce,sir!”shesaidcrossly.“Iamgoingto

turn on the lights.” And she hurried across the landing to the electric lightswitch.

“Michael!”saidJaneinacarefulwhisper.“Justhaveonelookandseeifthecow’sstillthere.”

HurriedlyMichaelpeeredoutthroughthegatheringdusk.“Quickly!” said Jane. “MaryPoppinswillbeback inoneminute.Canyou

seeher?”“No-o-o,”saidMichael,staringout.“Notasignofher.She’sgone.”“Idohopeshefindsit!”saidJane,thinkingoftheRedCowroamingthrough

theworldlookingforastartostickonherhorn.“So do I,” said Michael as, at the sound of Mary Poppins’ returning

footsteps,hehurriedlypulleddowntheblind...

ChapterSix

BADTUESDAY

IT WAS NOT very long afterwards that Michael woke up one morning with acurious feeling inside him. He knew, the moment he opened his eyes, thatsomethingwaswrongbuthewasnotquitesurewhatitwas.

“What is today,MaryPoppins?”heenquired,pushing thebedclothesawayfromhim.

“Tuesday,”saidMaryPoppins.“Goandturnonyourbath.Hurry!”shesaid,ashemadenoefforttomove.Heturnedoverandpulledthebedclothesupoverhisheadandthecuriousfeelingincreased.

“What did I say?” said Mary Poppins in that cold, clear voice that wasalwaysaWarning.

Michaelknewnowwhatwashappeningtohim.Heknewhewasgoingtobenaughty.

“Iwon’t,”hesaidslowly,hisvoicemuffledbytheblanket.Mary Poppins twitched the clothes from his hand and looked down upon

him.“IWON’T.”Hewaited,wonderingwhatshewoulddo,andwassurprisedwhen,withouta

word, she went into the bathroom and turned on the tap herself. He took histowel and went slowly in as she came out. And for the first time in his lifeMichaelentirelybathedhimself.Heknewbythisthathewasindisgrace,andhepurposelyneglectedtowashbehindhisears.

“ShallIletoutthewater?”heenquiredintherudestvoicehehad.Therewasnoreply.“Pooh,Idon’tcare!”saidMichael,andthehotheavyweightthatwaswithin

himswelledandgrewlarger.“Idon’tcare!”Hedressedhimselfthen,puttingonhisbestclothes,thatheknewwereonly

forSunday.Andafterthathewentdownstairs,kickingthebanisterswithhisfeet–athingheknewheshouldnotdoasitwokeupeverybodyelseinthehouse.OnthestairshemetEllen,thehousemaid,andashepassedherheknockedthe

hot-waterjugoutofherhand.“Well,youareaclumsy,”saidEllen,asshebentdowntomopupthewater.

“Thatwasforyourfather’sshaving.”“Imeantto,”saidMichaelcalmly.Ellen’sredfacewentquitewhitewithsurprise.“Meantto?Youmeant–well,then,you’reaverybad,heathenboy,andI’ll

tellyourMa,soIwill—”“Do,”saidMichael,andhewentondownthestairs.Well, thatwas the beginning of it. Throughout the rest of the day nothing

went rightwithhim.Thehot,heavy feeling insidehimmadehimdo themostawfulthings,andassoonashe’ddonethemhefeltextraordinarilypleasedandgladandthoughtoutsomemoreatonce.

InthekitchenMrsBrill,thecook,wasmakingscones.“No,MasterMichael,” she said, “you can’t scrape out the basin. It’s not

emptyyet.”AndatthatheletouthisfootandkickedMrsBrillveryhardontheshin,so

thatshedroppedtherolling-pinandscreamedaloud.“You kicked Mrs Brill? Kind Mrs Brill? I’m ashamed of you,” said his

MotherafewminuteslaterwhenMrsBrillhadtoldherthewholestory.“Youmustbegherpardonatonce.Sayyou’resorry,Michael!”

“ButI’mnotsorry.I’mglad.Herlegsaretoofat,”hesaid,andbeforetheycould catch him he ran away up the area steps and into the garden. There hepurposelybumpedintoRobertsonAy,whowassoundasleepontopofthebestrockplants,andRobertsonAywasveryangry.

“I’lltellyourPa!”hesaidthreateningly.“AndI’lltellhimyouhaven’tcleanedtheshoesthismorning,”saidMichael,

and was a little astonished at himself. It was his habit and Jane’s always toprotectRobertsonAy,becausetheylovedhimanddidn’twanttolosehim.

But hewas not astonished for long, for he had begun towonder what hecoulddonext.Anditwasnotimebeforehethoughtofsomething.

Through the bars of the fence he could seeMiss Lark’s Andrew daintilysniffingattheNext-doorlawnandchoosingforhimselfthebestbladesofgrass.Hecalledsoftly toAndrewandgavehimabiscuitoutofhisownpocket,andwhileAndrewwasmunchingithetiedAndrew’stailtothefencewithapieceofstring.ThenheranawaywithMissLark’sangry,outragedvoicescreaming inhis ears, and his body almost burstingwith the excitingweight of that heavythinginsidehim.

ThedoorofhisFather’sstudystoodopen–forEllenhadjustbeendustingthebooks.SoMichaeldidaforbiddenthing.Hewentin,satdownathisFather’sdesk, andwith his Father’s pen began to scribble on the blotter. Suddenly hiselbow,knockingagainsttheinkpot,upsetit,andthechairandthedeskandthequillpenandhisownbestclotheswerecoveredwithgreatspreadingstainsofblueink.Itlookeddreadful,andfearofwhatwouldhappentohimstirredwithinMichael.But,inspiteofthat,hedidn’tcare–hedidn’tfeeltheleastbitsorry.

“Thatchildmustbeill,”saidMrsBanks,whenshewastoldbyEllen–whosuddenly returnedanddiscoveredhim–of the latestadventure.“Michael,youshallhavesomesyrupoffigs.”

“I’mnotill.I’mwellerthanyou,”saidMichaelrudely.“Then you’re simply naughty,” said his Mother. “And you shall be

punished.”And,sureenough,fiveminuteslater,Michaelfoundhimselfstandinginhis

stainedclothesinacornerofthenursery,facingthewall.JanetriedtospeaktohimwhenMaryPoppinswasnotlooking,buthewould

notanswer,andputouthistongueather.WhenJohnandBarbaracrawledalongthefloorandeachtookholdofoneofhisshoesandgurgled,hejustpushedthemroughlyaway.Andallthetimehewasenjoyinghisbadness,huggingittohimasthoughitwereafriend,andnotcaringabit.

“Ihatebeinggood,”hesaidaloudtohimself,ashetrailedafterMaryPoppinsandJaneandtheperambulatorontheafternoonwalktothePark.

“Don’tdawdle,”saidMaryPoppins,lookingbackathim.But he went on dawdling and dragging the sides of his shoes along the

pavementinordertoscratchtheleather.SuddenlyMaryPoppinsturnedandfacedhim,onehandonthehandleofthe

perambulator.“You,”shebegan,“gotoutofbedthewrongsidethismorning.”“Ididn’t,”saidMichael.“Thereisnowrongsidetomybed.”“Everybedhasarightandawrongside,”saidMaryPoppins,primly.“Notmine–it’snextthewall.”“Thatmakesnodifference.It’sstillaside,”scoffedMaryPoppins.“Well, is thewrong side the left side or is thewrong side the right side?

BecauseIgotoutontherightside,sohowcanitbewrong?”“Bothsideswerethewrongside,thismorning,MrSmarty!”“Butithasonlyone,andifIgotouttherightside—”heargued.

“Onemorewordfromyou—”beganMaryPoppins,andshesaiditinsuchapeculiarly threateningvoice that evenMichael felt a littlenervous. “OnemorewordandI’ll—”

Shedidnotsaywhatshewoulddo,buthequickenedhispace.“Pullyourselftogether,Michael,”saidJaneinawhisper.“Youshutup,”hesaid,butsolowthatMaryPoppinscouldnothear.“Now,sir,”saidMaryPoppins.“Offyougo–infrontofme,please.I’mnot

goingtohaveyoustravaigingbehindanylonger.You’llobligemebygoingonahead.”Shepushedhiminfrontofher.“And,”shecontinued,“there’sashinythingsparklingonthepathjustalongthere.I’ll thankyoutogoandpickitupandbringittome.Somebody’sdroppedtheirtiara,perhaps.”

Against hiswill, but because he didn’t dare not to,Michael looked in thedirectioninwhichshewaspointing.Yes–therewassomethingshiningonthepath.Fromthatdistanceitlookedveryinteresting,anditssparklingraysoflightseemedtobeckonhim.Hewalkedon,swaggeringalittle,goingasslowlyashedaredandpretendingthathedidn’treallywanttoseewhatitwas.

He reached the spot and, stooping, picked up the shining thing. It was asmall, round sort of box with a glass top and on the glass an arrowmarked.Inside,a rounddisc thatseemed tobecoveredwith lettersswunggentlyashemovedthebox.

Janeranupandlookedatitoverhisshoulder.“Whatisit,Michael?”sheasked.“Iwon’ttellyou,”saidMichael,thoughhedidn’tknowhimself.“Mary Poppins,what is it?” demanded Jane, as the perambulator drew up

besidethem.MaryPoppinstookthelittleboxfromMichael’shand.“It’smine,”hesaidjealously.“No,mine,”saidMaryPoppins.“Isawitfirst.”“ButIpickeditup.”Hetried tosnatch it fromherhand,butshegavehim

suchalookthathishandfelltohisside.She tilted the round thingbackwards and forwards, and in the sunlight the

discanditsletterswentcareeringmadlyinsidethebox.“What’sitfor?”askedJane.“Togoroundtheworldwith,”saidMaryPoppins.“Pooh!”saidMichael.“yougoroundtheworldinaship,oranaeroplane.I

knowthat.Theboxthingwouldn’ttakeyouroundtheworld.”“Oh, indeed – wouldn’t it?” said Mary Poppins, with a curious I-know-

better-than-youexpressiononherface.“Youjustwatch!”

AndholdingthecompassinherhandsheturnedtowardstheentranceoftheParkandsaidtheword“North!”

The letters slid round thearrow,dancinggiddily.Suddenly theatmosphereseemedtogrowbitterlycold,andthewindbecamesoicythatJaneandMichaelshut their eyes against it. When they opened them the Park had entirelydisappeared–notatreenoragreen-paintedseatnoranasphaltfootpathwasinsight. Instead, theyweresurroundedbygreatbouldersofblue iceandbeneaththeirfeetsnowlaythicklyfrostedupontheground.

“Oh, oh!” cried Jane, shivering with cold and surprise, and she rushed tocovertheTwinswiththeirperambulatorrug.“Whathashappenedtous?”

MaryPoppinssniffed.Shehadnotimetoreply,however,foratthatmomentawhite furryheadpeeredcautiously roundaboulder.ThenahugePolarBearleaptoutand,standingonhishindlegs,proceededtohugMaryPoppins.

“Iwasafraidyoumightbetrappers,”hesaid.“WelcometotheNorthPole,allofyou.”

Heputoutalongpinktongue,roughandwarmasabathtowel,andgentlylickedthechildren’scheeks.

Theytrembled.DidPolarBearseatchildren,theywondered?“You’re shivering!” the Bear said kindly. “That’s because you need

something to eat.Make yourselves comfortable on this iceberg.”Hewaved apaw at a block of ice. “Now, what would you like? Cod? Shrimps? Justsomethingtokeepthewolffromthedoor.”

“I’mafraidwecan’tstay,”MaryPoppinsbrokein.“We’reonourwayroundtheworld.”

“Well,doletmegetyoualittlesnack.Itwon’ttakemeajiffy.”Hesprangintotheblue-greenwaterandcameupwithaherring.“Iwishyou

couldhavestayedforachat.”HetuckedthefishintoMaryPoppins’shand.“Ilongforabitofgossip.”

“Anothertimeperhaps,”shesaid.“Andthankyouforthefish.”“South!”shesaidtothecompass.ItseemedtoJaneandMichaelthenthattheworldwasspinningroundthem.

As they felt the air getting soft and warm, they found themselves in a leafyjunglefromwhichcameanoisysoundofsquawking.

“Welcome!” shrieked a large Hyacinth Macaw who was perched on abranch, with outstretched wings. “You’re just the person we need, MaryPoppins.Mywife’soffgadding,andI’mlefttositontheeggs.Dotakeaturn,there’sagoodgirl.Ineedalittlerest.”

Heliftedaspreadwingcautiously,disclosinganestwithtwowhiteeggs.“Alas,thisisjustapassingvisit.We’reonourwayroundtheworld.”“Gracious,whata journey!Well, stay fora littlemoment so that I canget

somesleep.Ifyoucanlookafterallthosecreatures”–henoddedatthechildren–“youcankeeptwosmalleggswarm.Do,MaryPoppins!AndI’llgetyousomebananasinsteadofthatwrigglingfish.”

“Itwasapresent,”saidMaryPoppins.“Well,well,keepitifyoumust.Butwhatmadnesstogogallivantinground

theworldwhenyoucouldstayandbringupournestlings.Whyshouldwespendourtimesittingwhenyoucoulddoitaswell?”

“Better,youmean!”sniffedMaryPoppins.Then,toJaneandMichael’sdisappointment–theywoulddearlyhaveliked

sometropicalfruit–sheshookherheaddecisivelyandsaid,“East!”Againtheworldwentspinningroundthem–orweretheyspinningroundthe

world?Andthen,whicheveritwasceased.They found themselves in a grassy clearing surrounded by bamboo trees.

Greenpaperlikeleavesrustledinthebreeze.Andabovethatquietswishingtheycouldhearasteadyrhythmicsound–asnore,orwasitapurr?

Glancing round, they beheld a large furry shape – black with blotches ofwhite,orwasitwhitewithblotchesofblack?Theycouldnotreallybesure.

Jane and Michael gazed at each other. Was it a dream from which theywouldwake?Orweretheyseeing,ofallthings,aPanda!AndaPandainitsownhomeandnotbehindbarsinazoo.

Thedream,ifitwasadream,drewalongbreath.“Whoeveritis,pleasegoaway,Irestintheafternoon.”Thevoicewasasfurryastherestofhim.“Very well, then, wewill go away. And then perhaps” –Mary Poppins’s

voicewasatitsmostpriggish–“you’llbesorryyoumissedus.”The Panda opened one black eye. “Oh, it’s you, my dear girl,” he said

sleepily. “Why not have let me know you were coming? Difficult though itwouldhavebeen,foryouIwouldhavestayedawake.”Thefurryshapeyawnedand stretched itself. “Ah well, I’ll have to make a home for you all. Therewouldn’tbeenoughroominmine.”Henoddedataneatsheltermadeofleavesand bamboo sticks. “But,” he added, eying the herring, “Iwill not allow thatscalysea-thingunderanyroofofmine.Fishesarefartoofishyforme.”

“Weshallnotbestaying,”MaryPoppinsassuredhim.“We’retakingalittletriproundtheworldandjustlookedinforamoment.”

“What nonsense!” The Panda gave an enormous yawn. “Traipsing wildlyroundtheworldwhenyoucouldstayherewithme.Nevermind,mydearMary,youalwaysdowhatyouwant todo,howeverabsurdand foolish.Plucka fewyoungbambooshoots.They’llsustainyoutillyougethome.Andyoutwo”–henodded at Jane andMichael – “tickleme gently behind the ears. That alwayssendsmetosleep.”

Eagerly theysatdownbesidehimandstroked thesilky fur.Neveragain–theyweresureofit–wouldtheyhavethechanceofstrokingaPanda.

Thefurryshapesettleditselfand,astheystroked,thesnore–orthepurr–beganitsrhythm.

“He’sasleep,”saidMaryPoppinssoftly.“Wemustn’twakehimagain.”Shebeckoned to the children, and as they came on tiptoe towards her, she gave aflick of her wrist. And the compass, apparently, understood, for the spinningbeganagain.

Hillsandlakes,mountainsandforestswentwaltzingroundthemtounheardmusic.Thenagaintheworldwasstill,asifithadnevermoved.

This time they found themselves on a long white shore, with waveletslappingandcurlingagainstit.

And immediatelybefore themwasacloudofwhirling, swirling sand fromwhichcameaseriesofgrunts.Thenslowlythecloudsettled,disclosingalargeblackandgreyDolphinwithayoungoneatherside.

“Isthatyou,Amelia?”calledMaryPoppins.The Dolphin blew some sand from her nose and gave a start of surprise.

“Well,ofallpeople, it’sMaryPoppins!You’re just in time toshareoursand-bath.Nothinglikeasand-bathforcleansingthefinsandthetail.”

“Ihadabaththismorning,thankyou!”“Well,what about those young ones, dear?Couldn’t they dowith a bit of

scouring?”“They have no fins and tails,” saidMary Poppins,much to the children’s

disappointment.Theywouldhavelikedarollinthesand.“Well,whatonearthorseaareyoudoinghere?”Ameliademandedbriskly.“Oh, just going round theworld, you know,”MaryPoppins said airily, as

thoughgoingroundtheworldwasathingyoudideveryday.“Well,it’satreatforFroggieandme–isn’tit,Froggie?Ameliabuttedhim

withhernose,andtheyoungDolphingaveafriendlysqueak.“IcallhimFroggiebecausehesooftenstraysaway–justliketheFrogthat

would a-wooing go, whether his mother would let him or no. Don’t you,

Froggie?”Heranswerwasanothersqueak.“Well,nowforameal.Whatwouldyoulike?”AmeliagrinnedatJaneand

Michael, displaying a splendid array of teeth. “There’s cockles and musselsalive,alive-O.Andtheseaweedhereisexcellent.”

“Thank you kindly, I’m sure, Amelia. But we have to be home in half aminute.”MaryPoppinslaidafirmhandonthehandleoftheperambulator.

Ameliawasclearlydisappointed.“Whateverkindofvisitisthat?Hulloandgoodbyeinthesamebreath.Next

timeyoumuststayfortea,andwe’llallsittogetheronarockandsingasongtothemoon.Eh,Froggie?”

Froggiesqueaked.“Thatwillbelovely,”saidMaryPoppins,andJaneandMichaelechoedher

words.Theyhadneveryetsatonarockandsungasongtothemoon.“Well,aurevoir,oneandall.Bytheway,Mary,mydear,wereyougoingto

takethatherringwithyou?”Ameliagreedilyeyedthefish,which,fearingtheworstwasabouttohappen,

madeitselfaslimpasitcouldinMaryPoppins’shand.“No. I am planning to throw it back to the sea!”The herring gaspedwith

relief.“Averyproperdecision,Mary,”Ameliatoothilysmiled.“Wegetsofewof

themintheseparts,andtheymakeadeliciousmeal.Whydon’tweraceforit,Froggieandme?Whenyousay‘Go!’,we’llstartswimmingandseewhogetsitfirst.”

MaryPoppinsheldthefishaloft.“Ready!Steady!Go!”shecried.Andasifitwerebirdratherthanfish,theherringswoopedupandsplashed

intothesea.The Dolphins were after it in a second, two dark striving shapes rippling

throughthewater.Jane and Michael could hardly breathe. Which would win the prize? Or

wouldtheprizeescape?“Froggie!Froggie!Froggie!”yelledMichael.Iftheherringhadtobecaught

andeaten,hewantedFroggietowin.“F-r-o-g-g-i-e!”Thewindandseabothcriedthename,butMichael’svoice

wasthestronger.“What do you think you’re doing, Michael?” Mary Poppins sounded

ferocious.

Heglancedatherforamomentandturnedagaintothesea.Buttheseawasnotthere.Nothingbutaneatgreenlawn;Jane,agog,beside

him;theTwinsintheperambulator;andMaryPoppinspushingitinthemiddleofthePark.

“Jumpingup anddown and shouting!Making a nuisance of yourself.Onewouldthinkyouhaddoneenoughforoneday.Stepalongatonce,please!”

“Roundtheworldandbackinaminute–whatawonderfulbox!”saidJane.“It’sacompass.Notabox.Andit’smine,”saidMichael.“Ifoundit.Giveit

tome!”“My compass, thank you,” said Mary Poppins, as she slipped it into her

pocket.Helookedasifhewouldliketokillher.Butheshruggedhisshouldersand

stalkedofftakingnonoticeofanyone.Theburningweightstillhungheavilywithinhim.After theadventurewith

the compass it seemed to grow worse, and towards the evening he grewnaughtier and naughtier. He pinched the Twins whenMary Poppins was notlooking,andwhentheycriedhesaidinafalselykindvoice:

“Why,darlings,whatisthematter?”ButMaryPoppinswasnotdeceivedbyit.“You’ve got something coming to you!” she said significantly. But the

burningthinginsidehimwouldnotlethimcare.HejustshruggedhisshouldersandpulledJane’shair.Andafterthathewenttothesuppertableandupsethisbread-and-milk.

“And that,” saidMary Poppins, “is the end. Such deliberate naughtiness Ineversaw.InallmyborndaysIneverdid,andthat’safact.Offyougo!Straightintobedwithyouandnotanotherword!”Hehadneverseenherlooksoterrible.

Butstillhedidn’tcare.Hewent into theNight-nurseryandundressed.No,hedidn’t care.Hewas

bad, and if they didn’t look out he’d be worse. He didn’t care. He hatedeverybody.Iftheyweren’tcarefulhewouldrunawayandjoinacircus.There!Offwentabutton.Good–therewouldbefewertodoupinthemorning.Andanother!Allthebetter.Nothinginalltheworldcouldevermakehimfeelsorry.Hewouldgetintobedwithoutbrushinghishairorhisteeth–certainlywithoutsayinghisprayers.

Hewas just about to get into bed and, indeed, had one foot already in it,whenhenoticedthecompasslyingontopofthechestofdrawers.

Veryslowlyhewithdrewhisfootandtiptoedacrosstheroom.Heknewnow

what he would do. He would take the compass and spin it and go round theworld.Andthey’dneverfindhimagain.Anditwouldservethemright.Withoutmakingasoundheliftedachairandputitagainstthechestofdrawers.Thenheclimbeduponitandtookthecompassinhishand.

Hemovedit.“North, South, East,West!” he said very quickly, in case anybody should

comeinbeforehegotwellaway.Anoisebehindthechairstartledhimandturnedroundguiltily,expectingto

seeMaryPoppins.But instead, therewere four gigantic figures bearing downupon him – the bearwith his fangs showing, theMacaw fiercely flapping hiswings,thePandawithhisfuronend,theDolphinthrustingouthersnout.Fromallquartersoftheroomtheywererushinguponhim,theirshadowshugeontheceiling. No longer kind and friendly, they were now full of revenge. Theirterribleangryfacesloomednearer.Hecouldfeeltheirhotbreathonhisface.

“Oh! Oh!” Michael dropped the compass. “Mary Poppins, help me!” hescreamedandshuthiseyesinterror.

And then something enveloped him. The great creatures and their greatershadows,withamingledroarorsquawkoftriumph,flungthemselvesuponhim.Whatwasitthatheldhim,softandwarm,initssmotheringembrace?ThePolarBear’s fur coat? The Macaw’s feathers? The Panda’s fur he had stroked sogently?ThemotherDolphin’sflippers?Andwhatwashe–oritmightbeshe–planningtodotohim?Ifonlyhehadbeengood–ifonly!

“MaryPoppins!”hewailed,ashefelthimselfcarriedthroughtheairandsetdowninsomethingstillsofter.

“Oh,dearMaryPoppins!”“Allright,allright.I’mnotdeaf,I’mthankfultosay–noneedtoshout,”he

heardhersayingcalmly.Heopenedoneeye.Hecouldseenosignofthefourgiganticfiguresofthe

compass.Heopenedtheothereyetomakesure.No–notaglintofanyofthem.Hesatup.Helookedroundtheroom.Therewasnothingthere.

Then he discovered that the soft thing that was round him was his ownblanket,andthesoftthinghewaslyingonwashisownbed.Andoh,theheavyburningthingthathadbeeninsidehimalldayhadmeltedanddisappeared.Hefelt peaceful andhappy, andas if hewould like togive everybodyheknewabirthdaypresent.

“What–whathappened?”hesaidratheranxiouslytoMaryPoppins.“Itoldyouthatwasmycompass,didn’tI?Bekindenoughnottotouchmy

things,ifyouplease,”wasallshesaidasshestoopedandpickedupthecompassandputit inherpocket.Thenshebegantofoldtheclothesthathehadthrowndownonthefloor.

“ShallIdoit?”hesaid.“No,thankyou.”Hewatchedher go into thenext room, andpresently she returned andput

somethingwarmintohishands.Itwasacupofmilk.Michaelsippedit,tastingeverydropseveraltimeswithhistongue,makingit

lastaslongaspossiblesothatMaryPoppinsshouldstaybesidehim.Shestoodtherewithoutsayingaword,watchingthemilkslowlydisappear.

He could smell her crackling white apron and the faint flavour of toast thatalwayshungabouthersodeliciously.Buttryashewould,hecouldnotmakethemilklastforever,andpresently,withasighofregret,hehandedhertheemptycupandslippeddownintothebed.Hehadneverknownitbesocomfortable,hethought.Andhethought,too,howwarmhewasandhowhappyhefeltandhowluckyhewastobealive.

“Isn’titafunnything,MaryPoppins,”hesaiddrowsily.“I’vebeensoverynaughtyandIfeelsoverygood.”

“Humph!”saidMaryPoppinsasshetuckedhiminandwentawaytowashupthesupperthings...

ChapterSeven

THEBIRDWOMAN

“PERHAPSSHEWON’Tbethere,”saidMichael.“Yes,shewill,”saidJane.“She’salwaysthereforeverandever.”TheywerewalkingupLudgateHillonthewaytopayavisittoMrBanksin

theCity.ForhehadsaidthatmorningtoMrsBanks:“Mydear,ifitdoesn’trainIthinkJaneandMichaelmightcallformeatthe

Officetoday–that is, ifyouareagreeable.IhaveafeelingIshouldliketobetakentoTeaandShortbreadFingersandit’snotoftenIhaveaTreat.”

AndMrsBankshadsaidshewouldthinkaboutit.Butallday long, thoughJaneandMichaelhadwatchedheranxiously, she

hadnotseemedtobethinkingaboutitatall.Fromthethingsshesaid,shewasthinking about the Laundry Bill and Michael’s new overcoat and where wasAuntFlossie’saddress,andwhydidthatwretchedMrsJacksonaskhertoteaonthe secondThursday of themonthwhen she knew thatwas the very dayMrsBankshadtogototheDentist’s?

Suddenly,whentheyfeltquitesureshewouldneverthinkaboutMrBanks’treat,shesaid:

“Now,children,don’tstandstaringatmelikethat.Getyourthingson.YouaregoingtotheCitytohaveteawithyourFather.Hadyouforgotten?”

Asiftheycouldhaveforgotten!ForitwasnotasthoughitwereonlytheTeathatmattered.TherewasalsotheBirdWoman,andsheherselfwasthebestofallTreats.

ThatiswhytheywerewalkingupLudgateHillandfeelingveryexcited.MaryPoppinswalkedbetweenthem,wearinghernewhatandlookingvery

distinguished.Everynowandthenshewouldlookintotheshopwindowjusttomakesurethehatwasstillthereandthatthepinkrosesonithadnotturnedintocommonflowerslikemarigolds.

Everytimeshestoppedtomakesure,JaneandMichaelwouldsigh,buttheydidnotdaresayanythingforfearshewouldspendevenlongerlookingatherselfinthewindows,andturningthiswayandthattoseewhichattitudewasthemost

becoming.ButatlasttheycametoStPaul’sCathedral,whichwasbuiltalongtimeago

byamanwithabird’sname.Wrenitwas,buthewasnorelationtoJenny.Thatiswhy somany birds live near Sir ChristopherWren’sCathedral,which alsobelongstoStPaul,andthatiswhytheBirdWomanlivesthere,too.

“There she is!” cried Michael suddenly, and he danced on his toes withexcitement.

“Don’tpoint,” saidMaryPoppins,givinga lastglanceat thepink roses inthewindowofacarpetshop.

“She’ssayingit!She’ssayingit!”criedJane,holdingtighttoherselfforfearshewouldbreakintwowithdelight.

Andshewassayingit.TheBirdWomanwasthereandshewassayingit.“FeedtheBirds,TuppenceaBag!FeedtheBirds,TuppenceaBag!Feedthe

Birds,FeedtheBirds,TuppenceaBag,TuppenceaBag!”Overandoveragain,thesamething,inahighchantingvoicethatmadethewordsseemlikeasong.

Andasshesaiditsheheldoutlittlebagsofbreadcrumbstothepassers-by.Allroundherflewthebirds,circlingandleapingandswoopingandrising.

MaryPoppins always called them“sparrers”because, she said conceitedly, allbirdswerealiketoher.ButJaneandMichaelknewthattheywerenotsparrows,but doves and pigeons. There were fussy and chatty grey doves likeGrandmothers; and brown, rough-voiced pigeons like Uncles; and greeny,cackling,no-I’ve-no-money-todaypigeons likeFathers.And the silly, anxious,soft blue doves were like Mothers. That’s what Jane and Michael thought,anyway.

They flew round and round the head of the BirdWoman as the childrenapproached,andthen,asthoughtoteaseher,theysuddenlyrushedawaythroughtheairandsatonthetopofStPaul’s,laughingandturningtheirheadsawayandpretendingtheydidn’tknowher.

ItwasMichael’sturntobuyabag.Janehadboughtonelasttime.HewalkeduptotheBirdWomanandheldoutfourhalfpennies.

“FeedtheBirds,TuppenceaBag!”saidtheBirdWoman,assheputabagofcrumbs into his hand and tucked the money away into the folds of her hugeblackskirt.

“Whydon’tyouhavepennybags?”saidMichael.“ThenIcouldbuytwo.”“FeedtheBirds,TuppenceaBag!”saidtheBirdWoman,andMichaelknew

itwasnogoodaskingheranymorequestions.HeandJanehadoftentried,butall shecouldsay,andall shehadeverbeenable tosay,was,“Feed theBirds,

Tuppence a Bag!” Just as a cuckoo can only say “Cuckoo,” no matter whatquestionsyouaskhim.

Jane andMichael andMary Poppins spread the crumbs in a circle on theground,andpresently,onebyoneatfirst,andthenintwosandthrees,thebirdscamedownfromStPaul’s.

“Dainty David,” saidMary Poppins with a sniff, as one bird picked up acrumbanddroppeditagainfromitsbeak.

But the other birds swarmed upon the food, pushing and scrambling andshouting.Atlasttherewasn’tacrumbleft,foritisnotreallypoliteforapigeonoradovetoleaveanythingontheplate.Whentheywerequitecertainthatthemealwasfinishedthebirdsrosewithonegrand,flutteringmovementandflewround the BirdWoman’s head, copying in their own language the words shesaid. One of them sat on her hat and pretended he was a decoration for thecrown.AndanotherofthemmistookMaryPoppins’newhatforarosegardenandpeckedoffaflower.

“You sparrer!” cried Mary Poppins, and shook her umbrella at him. Thepigeon, very offended, flew back to the Bird Woman, and to pay out MaryPoppins,stucktheroseintheribbonoftheBirdWoman’shat.

“Yououghttobeinapie–that’swhereyououghttobe,”saidMaryPoppinstohimveryangrily.ThenshecalledtoJaneandMichael.

“Timetogo,”shesaid,andflungapartingglanceoffuryatthepigeon.Butheonlylaughedandflickedhistailandturnedhisbackonher.

“Goodbye,”saidMichaeltotheBirdWoman.“FeedtheBirds,”shereplied,smiling.“Goodbye,”saidJane.“TuppenceaBag!”saidtheBirdWomanandwavedherhand.Theyleftherthen,walkingoneoneithersideofMaryPoppins.“Whathappenswheneverybodygoesaway–likeus?”saidMichaeltoJane.Heknewquitewellwhathappened,but itwastheproper thingtoaskJane

becausethestorywasreallyhers.SoJanetoldhimandheaddedthebitsshehadforgotten.“Atnightwheneverybodygoestobed—”beganJane.“Andthestarscomeout,”addedMichael.“Yes,andeven if theydon’t–all thebirdscomedown from the topofSt

Paul’sandrunverycarefullyalloverthegroundjusttoseetherearenocrumbsleft,andtotidyitupforthemorning.Andwhentheyhavedonethat—”

“You’veforgottenthebaths.”

“Oh,yes–theybaththemselvesandcombtheirwingswiththeirclaws.AndwhentheyhavedonethattheyflythreetimesroundtheheadoftheBirdWomanandthentheysettle.”

“Dotheysitonhershoulders?”“Yes,andonherhat.”“Andonherbasketwiththebagsinit?”“Yes, and someonherknee.Then she smoothsdown thehead-feathersof

eachoneinturnandtellsittobeagoodbird—”“Inthebirdlanguage?”“Yes.Andwhentheyareallsleepyanddon’twanttostayawakeanylonger,

shespreadsoutherskirts,asamotherhenspreadsoutherwings,andthebirdsgocreep,creep,creepingunderneath.Andassoonas the lastone isundershesettles down over them,making little brooding, nesting noises and they sleeptheretillmorning.”

Michaelsighedhappily.Helovedthestoryandwasnevertiredofhearingit.“Andit’sallquitetrue,isn’tit?”hesaid,justashealwaysdid.“No,”saidMaryPoppins,whoalwayssaid“No.”“Yes,”saidJane,whoalwayskneweverything...

ChapterEight

MRSCORRY

“TWO POUNDS OF sausages – Best Pork,” said Mary Poppins. “And at once,please.We’reinahurry.”

TheButcher,whoworealargeblue-and-whitestripedapron,wasafatandfriendlyman.Hewasalsolargeandredandratherlikeoneofhisownsausages.Heleantuponhischopping-blockandgazedadmiringlyatMaryPoppins.ThenhewinkedpleasantlyatJaneandMichael.

“InaNurry?”hesaidtoMaryPoppins.“Well,that’sapity.I’dhopedyou’ddropped in forabitofachat.WeButchers,youknow, likeabitofcompany.Andwedon’t oftenget the chanceof talking to anice, handsomeyoung ladylikeyou—”Hebrokeoffsuddenly, forhehadcaughtsightofMaryPoppins’sface.The expressionon itwas awful.And theButcher foundhimselfwishingtherewasatrapdoorinthefloorofhisshopthatwouldopenandswallowhimup.

“Oh,well—”hesaid,blushingevenredderthanusual.“Ifyou’reinaNurry,ofcourse.Twopounds,didyousay?BestPork?Rightyouare!”

And he hurriedly hooked down a long strip of the sausages that werefestoonedacrosstheshop.Hecutoffalength–aboutthree-quartersofayard–wound it into a sort of garland, and wrapped it up first in white and then inbrownpaper.Hepushedtheparcelacrossthechopping-block.

“ANDthenext?”hesaidhopefully,stillblushing.“Therewillbenonext,”saidMaryPoppins,withahaughtysniff.Andshe

tookthesausagesandturnedtheperambulatorroundveryquickly,andwheeleditoutoftheshopinsuchawaythattheButcherknewhehadmortallyoffendedher.Butsheglancedat thewindowasshewentso thatshecouldseehowhernewshoeslookedreflectedinit.Theywerebrightbrownkidwithtwobuttons,verysmart.

JaneandMichaeltrailedafterher,wonderingwhenshewouldhavecometotheendofhershoppinglistbut,becauseof the lookonherface,notdaring toaskher.

MaryPoppinsgazedupanddownthestreetasifdeepinthought,andthen,suddenlymakinguphermind,shesnapped:

“Fishmonger!” and turned the perambulator in at the shop next to theButcher’s.

“One Dover Sole, pound and a half of Halibut, pint of Prawns and aLobster,” said Mary Poppins, talking so quickly that only somebody used totakingsuchorderscouldpossiblyhaveunderstoodher.

The Fishmonger, unlike theButcher,was a long thinman, so thin that heseemed tohavenofront tohimbutonly twosides.Andhe lookedsosad thatyoufelthehadeitherjustbeenweepingorwasjustgoingto.Janesaidthatthiswas due to some secret sorrow that had haunted him since his youth, andMichael thought that the Fishmonger’sMothermust have fed him entirely onbreadandwaterwhenhewasababy,andthathehadneverforgottenit.

“Anythingelse?”said theFishmongerhopelessly, inavoice thatsuggestedhewasquitesuretherewouldn’tbe.

“Nottoday,”saidMaryPoppins.TheFishmongershookhisheadsadlyanddidnot lookatallsurprised.He

hadknownallalongtherewouldbenothingelse.Sniffinggently,hetieduptheparcelanddroppeditintotheperambulator.“Badweather,” he observed,wipinghis eyewith his hand. “Don’t believe

we’regoingtogetanysummeratall–notthatweeverdid,ofcourse.Youdon’tlooktooblooming,”hesaidtoMaryPoppins.“Butthen,nobodydoes—”

MaryPoppinstossedherhead.“Speakforyourself,”shesaidcrossly,andflouncedtothedoor,pushingthe

perambulatorsofiercelythatitbumpedintoabagofoysters.“The idea!” Jane and Michael heard her say as she glanced down at her

shoes.Notlookingtoobloominginhernewbrownkidshoeswithtwobuttons–theidea!Thatwaswhattheyheardherthinking.

Outsideonthepavementshepaused,lookingatherlistandtickingoffwhatshehadbought.Michaelstoodfirstononelegandthenontheother.

“MaryPoppins,arewenevergoinghome?”hesaidcrossly.MaryPoppinsturnedandregardedhimwithsomethinglikedisgust.“That,”shesaidbriefly,“isasitmaybe.”AndMichael,watchingherfoldup

herlist,wishedhehadnotspoken.“Youcangohome,ifyoulike,”shesaidhaughtily.“Wearegoingtobuythe

gingerbread.”Michael’sfacefell.Ifonlyhehadmanagedtosaynothing!Hehadn’tknown

thatgingerbreadwasattheendofthelist.“That’syourway,” saidMaryPoppins shortly, pointing in thedirectionof

CherryTreeLane.“Ifyoudon’tgetlost,”sheaddedasanafterthought.“Ohno,MaryPoppins,please, no! I didn’tmean it, really. I –oh–Mary

Poppins,please—”criedMichael.“Dolethimcome,MaryPoppins!”saidJane.“I’llpushtheperambulatorif

onlyyou’lllethimcome.”Mary Poppins sniffed. “If it wasn’t Friday,” she said darkly to Michael,

“you’dgohomeinatwink–inanabsoluteTwink!”Shemovedonwards,pushingJohnandBarbara.JaneandMichaelknewthat

she had relented, and followed wondering what a Twink was. Suddenly Janenoticedthattheyweregoinginthewrongdirection.

“But,MaryPoppins, I thoughtyousaidgingerbread– this isn’t theway toGreen,BrownandJohnson’s,wherewealwaysgetit—”shebegan,andstoppedbecauseofMaryPoppins’face.

“AmIdoingtheshoppingorareyou?”MaryPoppinsenquired.“You,”saidJane,inaverysmallvoice.“Oh,really?Ithoughtitwastheotherwayround,”saidMaryPoppinswitha

scornfullaugh.Shegavetheperambulatoralittletwistwithherhandanditturnedacorner

and drew up suddenly. Jane and Michael, stopping abruptly behind it, foundthemselvesoutsidethemostcuriousshoptheyhadeverseen.Itwasverysmallandverydingy.Fadedloopsofcolouredpaperhunginthewindows,andontheshelves were shabby little boxes of Sherbet, old Liquorice Sticks, and verywithered,veryhardApples-on-a-stick.Therewasasmalldarkdoorwaybetweenthewindows,and through thisMaryPoppinspropelled theperambulatorwhileJaneandMichaelfollowedatherheels.

Insidetheshoptheycoulddimlyseetheglass-toppedcounterthatranroundthreesidesofit.Andinacaseundertheglasswererowsandrowsofdark,drygingerbread,eachslabsostuddedwithgiltstarsthattheshopitselfseemedtobefaintly litby them.JaneandMichaelglancedround tofindoutwhatkindofapersonwas to serve them,andwerevery surprisedwhenMaryPoppinscalledout:

“Fannie!Annie!Where areyou?”Hervoice seemed to echoback to themfromeachdarkwalloftheshop.

Andasshecalled,twoofthelargestpeoplethechildrenhadevenseenrosefrombehindthecounterandshookhandswithMaryPoppins.Thehugewomen

thenleantdownoverthecounterandsaid,“Howdedo?”invoicesas largeasthemselves,andshookhandswithJaneandMichael.

“Howdoyoudo,Miss—?”Michaelpaused,wonderingwhichof the largeladieswaswhich.

“Fannie’smyname,”saidoneofthem.“Myrheumatismisaboutthesame;thankyouforasking.”Shespokeverymournfully,asthoughshewereunusedtosuchacourteousgreeting.

“It’salovelyday—”beganJanepolitelytotheothersister,whokeptJane’shandimprisonedforalmostaminuteinherhugeclasp.

“I’mAnnie,”sheinformedthemmiserably.“Andhandsomeisashandsomedoes.”

Jane and Michael thought that both the sisters had a very odd way ofexpressingthemselves,buttheyhadnottimetobesurprisedforlong,forMissFannieandMissAnniewerereachingout their longarmsto theperambulator.EachshookhandssolemnlywithoneoftheTwins,whoweresoastonishedthattheybegantocry.

“Now,now,now,now!What’sthis,what’sthis?”Ahigh,thin,cracklylittlevoicecamefromthebackoftheshop.Atthesoundofittheexpressiononthefaces ofMiss Fannie andMissAnnie, sad before, became even sadder. Theyseemedfrightenedandillatease,andsomehowJaneandMichaelrealizedthatthe two huge sisters were wishing that they were much smaller and lessconspicuous.

“What’sall this Ihear?”cried thecurioushigh littlevoice, comingnearer.Andpresently,roundthecorneroftheglasscase,theownerofitappeared.Shewasassmallashervoiceandascrackly,andtothechildrensheseemedtobeolderthananythingintheworld,withherwispyhairandherstick-likelegsandherwizened,wrinkled little face.But in spite of this she ran towards them aslightlyandasgailyasthoughshewerestillayounggirl.

“Now,now,now–well,Idodeclare!Blessmeifitisn’tMaryPoppins,withJohnandBarbaraBanks.What–JaneandMichael,too?Well,isn’tthisanicesurprise for me? I assure you I haven’t been so surprised since ChristopherColumbusdiscoveredAmerica–trulyIhaven’t!”

She smileddelightedly as she came togreet them, andher feetmade littledancing movements inside the tiny elastic-sided boots. She ran to theperambulatorandrockeditgently,crookingherthin,twisted,oldfingersatJohnandBarbarauntiltheystoppedcryingandbegantolaugh.

“That’sbetter!”shesaid,cacklinggaily.Thenshedidaveryoddthing.She

brokeoff twoof her fingers andgaveone each to John andBarbara.And theoddestpartofitwasthatinthespaceleftbythebroken-offfingerstwonewonesgrewatonce.JaneandMichaelclearlysawithappen.

“Only Barley-sugar – can’t possibly hurt ’em,” the old lady said toMaryPoppins.

“Anythingyougivethem,MrsCorry,couldonlydothemgood,”saidMaryPoppinswithmostsurprisingcourtesy.

“What a pity,” Michael couldn’t help saying, “they weren’t PeppermintBars.”

“Well,theyare,sometimes,”saidMrsCorrygleefully,“andverygoodtheytaste, too. I oftennibble ’emmyself, if I can’t sleepatnight.Splendid for thedigestion.”

“Whatwill theybenext time?”askedJane, lookingatMrsCorry’s fingerswithinterest.

“Aha!”saidMrsCorry.“That’sjustthequestion.Ineverknowfromdaytoday what they will be. I take the chance, my dear, as I heard William theConqueror say to his Mother when she advised him not to go conqueringEngland.”

“Youmustbeveryold!”saidJane,sighingenviously,andwonderingifshewouldeverbeabletorememberwhatMrsCorryremembered.

MrsCorryflungbackherwispylittleheadandshriekedwithlaughter.“Old!”shesaid.“Why, I’mquiteachickencompared tomyGrandmother.

Now,there’sanoldwomanifyoulike.Still,Igobackagoodway.Irememberthetimewhentheyweremakingthisworld,anyway,andIwaswelloutofmyteensthen.Mygoodness,thatwasato-do,Icantellyou!”

Shebrokeoffsuddenly,screwingupherlittleeyesatthechildren.“But,dearyme–hereamIrunningonandonandyounotbeingserved!I

suppose,mydear”–sheturnedtoMaryPoppins,whomsheappearedtoknowverywell–“Isupposeyou’veallcomeforsomeGingerbread?”

“That’sright,MrsCorry,”saidMaryPoppinspolitely.“Good. Have Fannie and Annie given you any?” She looked at Jane and

Michaelasshesaidthis.Janeshookherhead.Twohushedvoicescamefrombehindthecounter.“No,Mother,”saidMissFanniemeekly.“We were just going to, Mother—” began Miss Annie in a frightened

whisper.At that Mrs Corry drew herself up to her full height and regarded her

giganticdaughtersfuriously.Thenshesaidinasoft,fierce,terrifyingvoice:“Just going to?Oh, indeed! That is very interesting.Andwho,may I ask,

Annie,gaveyoupermissiontogiveawaymygingerbread—?”“Nobody,Mother.AndIdidn’tgiveitaway.Ionlythought—”“You only thought! That is very kind of you. But Iwill thank you not to

think.Icandoallthethinkingthatisnecessaryhere!”saidMrsCorryinhersoft,terriblevoice.Thensheburstintoaharshcackleoflaughter.

“Lookat her! Just look at her!Cowardy-custard!Cry-baby!” she shrieked,pointingherknottyfingeratherdaughter.

JaneandMichael turnedandsawa large tearcoursingdownMissAnnie’shuge,sadface,buttheydidnotliketosayanything,for,inspiteofhertininess,MrsCorrymadethemfeelrathersmallandfrightened.ButassoonasMrsCorrylooked the other way Jane seized the opportunity to offer Miss Annie herhandkerchief. The huge tear completely drenched it, and Miss Annie, with agratefullook,wrungitoutbeforeshereturnedittoJane.

“Andyou,Fannie–didyouthink,too,Iwonder?”Thehighlittlevoicewasnowdirectedattheotherdaughter.

“No,Mother,”saidMissFannietrembling.“Humph!Justaswellforyou!Openthatcase!”Withfrightened,fumblingfingers,MissFannieopenedtheglasscase.“Now,mydarlings,” saidMrsCorry inquite adifferentvoice.She smiled

andbeckonedsosweetlytoJaneandMichaelthattheywereashamedofhavingbeenfrightenedofher,andfeltthatshemustbeveryniceafterall.“Won’tyoucomeandtakeyourpick,mylambs?It’saspecialrecipetoday–oneIgotfromAlfred theGreat.Hewas a very good cook, I remember, though he did onceburnthecakes.Howmany?”

JaneandMichaellookedatMaryPoppins.“Foureach,”shesaid.“That’stwelve.Onedozen.”“I’llmakeitaBaker’sDozen–takethirteen,”saidMrsCorrycheerfully.So JaneandMichael chose thirteen slabsofgingerbread, eachwith itsgilt

paper star. Their arms were piled up with the delicious dark cakes. Michaelcouldnotresistnibblingacornerofoneofthem.

“Good?”squeakedMrsCorry,andwhenhenoddedshepickedupherskirtsanddidafewstepsoftheHighlandFlingforpurepleasure.

“Hooray,hooray,splendid,hooray!”shecriedinhershrilllittlevoice.Thenshecametoastandstillandherfacegrewserious.

“But remember – I’m notgiving them away. Imust be paid. The price is

threepenceforeachofyou.”MaryPoppinsopenedherpurseandtookoutthreethreepenny-bits.Shegave

oneeachtoJaneandMichael.“Now,”saidMrsCorry.“Stick’emonmycoat!That’swheretheyallgo.”They lookedcloselyather longblackcoat.Andsureenough they found it

wasstuddedwiththreepenny-bitsasaCoster’scoatiswithpearlbuttons.“Come along. Stick ’emon!” repeatedMrsCorry, rubbing her handswith

pleasantexpectation.“You’llfindtheywon’tdropoff.”Mary Poppins stepped forward and pressed her threepenny-bit against the

collarofMrsCorry’scoat.TothesurpriseofJaneandMichael,itstuck.Thentheyputtheirson–Jane’sontherightshoulderandMichael’sonthe

fronthem.Theirsstuck,too.“Howveryextraordinary,”saidJane.“Not at all, my dear,” said Mrs Corry, chuckling. “Or rather, not so

extraordinaryasotherthingsIcouldmention.”AndshewinkedlargelyatMaryPoppins.

“I’mafraidwemustbeoffnow,MrsCorry,”saidMaryPoppins.“ThereisBakedCustardforlunch,andImustbehomeintimetomakeit.ThatMrsBrill—”

“Apoorcook?”enquiredMrsCorry,interrupting.“Poor!”saidMaryPoppinscontemptuously.“That’snottheword.”“Ah!”MrsCorry put her finger alongside her nose and looked verywise.

Thenshesaid:“Well,mydearMissPoppins,ithasbeenaverypleasantvisitandIamsure

mygirlshaveenjoyeditasmuchasIhave.”Shenoddedinthedirectionofhertwo large,mournfuldaughters. “Andyou’ll comeagain soon,won’tyou,withJane and Michael and the Babies? Now, are you sure you can carry theGingerbread?”shecontinued,turningtoMichaelandJane.

They nodded. Mrs Corry drew closer to them, with a curious, important,inquisitivelookonherface.

“Iwonder,”shesaiddreamily,“whatyouwilldowiththepaperstars?”“Oh,we’llkeepthem,”saidJane.“Wealwaysdo.”“Ah–youkeep them!And Iwonderwhereyoukeep them?”MrsCorry’s

eyeswerehalfclosedandshelookedmoreinquisitivethanever.“Well,” Jane began. “Mine are all undermy handkerchiefs in the top left-

handdrawerand—”

“Mineareinashoeboxonthebottomshelfofthewardrobe,”saidMichael.“Top left-hand drawer and shoe box in the wardrobe,” said Mrs Corry

thoughtfully, as though shewere committing thewords tomemory. Then shegaveMary Poppins a long look and nodded her head slightly.Mary Poppinsnoddedslightlyinreturn.Itseemedasifsomesecrethadpassedbetweenthem.

“Well,” saidMrsCorrybrightly, “that isvery interesting.Youdon’tknowhowgladIamtoknowyoukeepyourstars. Ishall remember that.Yousee, Iremember everything – even what Guy Fawkes had for dinner every secondSunday.Andnow,goodbye.Comeagainsoon.Comeagainso-o-o-o-n!”

Mrs Corry’s voice seemed to be growing fainter and fading away, andpresently,without beingquite awareofwhat hadhappened, Jane andMichaelfound themselves on the pavement, walking behind Mary Poppins who wasagainexaminingherlist.

Theyturnedandlookedbehindthem.“Why,Jane,”saidMichaelwithsurprise,“it’snotthere!”“SoIsee,”saidJane,staringandstaring.Andtheywereright.Theshopwasnotthere.Ithadentirelydisappeared.“Howodd!”saidJane.“Isn’tit?”saidMichael.“ButtheGingerbreadisverygood.”And they were so busy biting their Gingerbread into different shapes – a

man,aflower,ateapot–thattheyquiteforgothowveryodditwas.Theyremembereditagainthatnight,however,whenthelightswereoutand

theywerebothsupposedtobesoundasleep.“Jane, Jane!”whisperedMichael.“Ihearsomeone tiptoeingon thestairs–

listen!”“Sssh!”hissedJanefromherbed,forshe,too,hadheardthefootsteps.Presently the door openedwith a little click and somebody came into the

room.ItwasMaryPoppins,dressedinhatandcoatallreadytogoout.Shemoved about the room softlywith quick, secretmovements. Jane and

Michaelwatchedherthroughhalf-closedeyeswithoutstirring.Firstshewenttothechestofdrawers,openedadrawerandshutitagainafter

amoment.Then,ontiptoe,shewenttothewardrobe,openedit,bentdownandput something in or took something out (they couldn’t tellwhich). Snap!ThewardrobedoorshutquicklyandMaryPoppinshurriedfromtheroom.

Michaelsatupinbed.“Whatwasshedoing?”hesaidtoJaneinaloudwhisper.“I don’t know.Perhaps she’s forgottenher glovesor her shoesor—” Jane

brokeoffsuddenly.“Michael,listen!”Helistened.Fromdownbelow–inthegarden,itseemed–theycouldhear

severalvoiceswhisperingtogether,veryearnestlyandexcitedly.With a quickmovement Jane got out of bed and beckonedMichael. They

creptonbarefeettothewindowandlookeddown.There,outsideintheLane,stoodatinyformandtwogiganticfigures.“MrsCorryandMissFannieandMissAnnie,”saidJaneinawhisper.Andsoindeeditwas.Itwasacuriousgroup.MrsCorrywaslookingthrough

the bars of the gate ofNumber Seventeen,Miss Fannie had two long laddersbalancedononehugeshoulder,whileMissAnnieappearedtobecarryinginonehandalargepailofsomethingthatlookedlikeglueandintheotheranenormouspaintbrush.

From where they stood, hidden by the curtain, Jane and Michael coulddistinctlyheartheirvoices.

“She’slate!”MrsCorrywassayingcrosslyandanxiously.“Perhaps,”Miss Fannie began timidly, settling the laddersmore firmly on

hershoulder,“oneofthechildrenisillandshecouldn’t—”“Get away in time,” said Miss Annie, nervously completing her sister’s

sentence.“Silence!”saidMrsCorryfiercely,andJaneandMichaeldistinctlyheardher

whisper something about “great galumphinggiraffes,” and theyknew shewasreferringtoherunfortunatedaughters.

“Hist!”saidMrsCorrysuddenly,listeningwithherheadononeside,likeasmallbird.

Therewasthesoundofthefrontdoorbeingquietlyopenedandshutagain,andthecreakoffootstepsonthepath.MrsCorrysmiledandwavedherhandasMaryPoppinscametomeetthem,carryingamarketbasketonherarm,andinthebasketwassomethingthatseemedtogiveoutafaint,mysteriouslight.

“Comealong,comealong,wemusthurry!Wehaven’tmuchtime,”saidMrsCorry,takingMaryPoppinsbythearm.“Looklively,youtwo!”Andshemovedoff, followed byMiss Fannie andMiss Annie, who were obviously trying tolook as lively as possible but not succeedingverywell.They trampedheavilyaftertheirMotherandMaryPoppins,bendingundertheirloads.

JaneandMichaelsawallfourofthemgodownCherryTreeLane,andthentheyturnedalittletotheleftandwentupthehill.Whentheygottothetopofthehill,wheretherewerenohousesbutonlygrassandclover,theystopped.

MissAnnieputdownherpailofglue, andMissFannie swung the ladders

from her shoulder and steadied them until both stood in an upright position.ThensheheldoneandMissAnnietheother.

“Whatoneartharetheygoingtodo?”saidMichael,gaping.ButtherewasnoneedforJanetoreply,forhecouldseeforhimselfwhatwashappening.

AssoonasMissFannieandMissAnniehadso fixed the ladders that theyseemed to be standingwithone endon the earth and theother leaningon thesky,MrsCorrypickedupherskirtsandthepaintbrushinonehandandthepailof glue in the other. Then she set her foot on the lowest rung of one of theladders andbegan to climb it.MaryPoppins, carryingherbasket, climbed theother.

ThenJaneandMichaelsawamostamazingsight.Assoonasshearrivedatthe top of her ladder, Mrs Corry dipped her brush into the glue and beganslappingthestickysubstanceagainstthesky.AndMaryPoppins,whenthishadbeendone,tooksomethingshinyfromherbasketandfixedittotheglue.WhenshetookherhandawaytheysawthatshewasstickingtheGingerbreadStarstothe sky. As each one was placed in position it began to twinkle furiously,sendingoutraysofsparklinggoldenlight.

“They’re ours!” saidMichael breathlessly. “They’re our stars. She thoughtwewereasleepandcameinandtookthem!”

ButJanewassilent.ShewaswatchingMrsCorrysplashingtheglueonthesky andMary Poppins sticking on the stars andMiss Fannie andMissAnniemovingtheladderstoanewpositionasthespacesintheskybecamefilledup.

At last it was over.Mary Poppins shook out her basket and showedMrsCorry that therewasnothing left in it.Then theycamedownfrom the laddersand the procession started down the hill again, Miss Fannie shouldering theladders, Miss Annie jangling her empty glue pail. At the corner they stoodtalkingforamoment;thenMaryPoppinsshookhandswiththemallandhurriedup the Lane again. Mrs Corry, dancing lightly in her elastic-sided boots andholdingherskirtsdaintilywithherhands,disappearedintheotherdirectionwithherhugedaughtersstumpingnoisilybehindher.

The garden gate clicked. Footsteps creaked on the path. The front dooropenedandshutwithasoftclangingsound.PresentlytheyheardMaryPoppinscomequietlyupthestairs,tiptoepastthenurseryandgoonintotheroomwhereshesleptwithJohnandBarbara.

As the soundofher footstepsdiedaway, JaneandMichael lookedat eachother.Thenwithoutaword theywent together to the top left-handdrawerandlooked.

TherewasnothingtherebutapileofJane’shandkerchiefs.“Itoldyouso,”saidMichael.Nexttheywenttothewardrobeandlookedintotheshoebox.Itwasempty.“Buthow?Butwhy?”saidMichael,sittingdownontheedgeofhisbedand

staringatJane.Janesaidnothing.Shejustsatbesidehimwithherarmsroundherkneesand

thoughtandthoughtandthought.Atlastsheshookbackherhairandstretchedherselfandstoodup.

“WhatIwanttoknow,”shesaid,“isthis:Arethestarsgoldpaperoristhegoldpaperstars?”

Therewasnoreplytoherquestionandshedidnotexpectone.SheknewthatonlysomebodyverymuchwiserthanMichaelcouldgivehertherightanswer...

ChapterNine

JOHNANDBARBARA’SSTORY

JANE AND MICHAEL had gone off to a party, wearing their best clothes andlooking, as Ellen the housemaid said when she saw them, “just like a shopwindow.”

All the afternoon the house was very quiet and still, as though it werethinkingitsownthoughts,ordreamingperhaps.

Down in the kitchenMrs Brill was reading the paper with her spectaclesperched on her nose. Robertson Ay was sitting in the garden busily doingnothing.MrsBankswas on the drawing-room sofawith her feet up.And thehousestoodveryquietlyaroundthemall,dreamingitsowndreams,orthinkingperhaps.

UpstairsinthenurseryMaryPoppinswasairingtheclothesbythefire,andthesunlightpouredinatthewindow,flickeringonthewhitewalls,dancingoverthecotswherethebabieswerelying.

“Isay,moveover!You’rerightinmyeyes,”saidJohninaloudvoice.“Sorry!” said the sunlight. “But I can’t help it. I’ve got to get across this

roomsomehow.Ordersisorders.ImustmovefromEast toWest inadayandmywaylies throughthisNursery.Sorry!Shutyoureyesandyouwon’tnoticeme.”

The gold shaft of sunlight lengthened across the room. It was obviouslymovingasquicklyasitcouldinordertoobligeJohn.

“How soft, how sweet you are! I love you,” saidBarbara, holding out herhandstoitsshiningwarmth.

“Goodgirl,” said the sunlight approvingly, andmovedup over her cheeksandintoherhairwithalight,caressingmovement.“Doyoulikethefeelofme?”itsaid,asthoughitlovedbeingpraised.

“Dee-licious!”saidBarbara,withahappysigh.“Chatter, chatter, chatter! I never heard such a place for chatter. There’s

alwayssomebodytalkinginthisroom,”saidashrillvoiceatthewindow.JohnandBarbaralookedup.

ItwastheStarlingwholivedonthetopofthechimney.“I like that,” said Mary Poppins, turning round quickly. “What about

yourself?Alldaylong–yes,andhalfthenight,too,ontheroofsandtelegraphpoles.Roaringandscreamingandshouting–you’dtalkthelegoffachair,youwould.Worsethananysparrer,andthat’sthetruth.”

TheStarlingcockedhisheadononesideand lookeddownatherfromhisperchonthewindowframe.

“Well,”hesaid,“Ihavemybusinesstoattendto.Consultations,discussions,arguments,bargaining.Andthat,ofcourse,necessitatesacertainamountof–er–quietconversation—”

“Quiet!”exclaimedJohn,laughingheartily.“AndIwasn’ttalkingtoyou,youngman,”saidtheStarling,hoppingdown

ontothewindowsill.“Andyouneedn’ttalk–anyway.Iheardyouforseveralhoursonend lastSaturdayweek.Goodness, I thoughtyou’dnever stop–youkeptmeawakeallnight.”

“That wasn’t talking,” said John. “I was—”He paused. “I mean, I had apain.”

“Humph!” said theStarling, andhoppedon to the railingofBarbara’scot.Hesidledalong ituntilhecameto theheadof thecot.Thenhesaid inasoft,wheedlingvoice:

“Well,BarbaraB.,anythingfortheoldfellowtoday,eh?”Barbarapulledherselfintoasittingpositionbyholdingontooneofthebars

ofhercot.“There’stheotherhalfofmyarrowrootbiscuit,”shesaid,andhelditoutin

herround,fatfist.TheStarlingswoopeddown,pluckeditoutofherhandandflewbacktothe

windowsill.Hebegannibblingitgreedily.“Thankyou!”saidMaryPoppins,meaningly,buttheStarlingwastoobusy

eatingtonoticetherebuke.“Isaid‘Thankyou!’”saidMaryPoppinsalittlelouder.TheStarlinglookedup.“Eh–what?Oh,getalong,girl,getalong. I’veno time for such frillsand

furbelows.”Andhegobbledupallbutthelastcrumbsofhisbiscuit.Theroomwasveryquiet.John,drowsingin thesunlight,put the toesofhisrightfoot intohismouth

and ran them along the place where his teeth were just beginning to comethrough.

“Whydoyoubothertodothat?”saidBarbara,inhersoft,amusedvoicethatseemedalwaystobefulloflaughter.“There’snobodytoseeyou.”

“I know,” said John, playing a tune on his toes. “But I like to keep inpractice. It does so amuse the Grown-ups. Did you notice that Aunt FlossienearlywentmadwithdelightwhenIdidityesterday?‘TheDarling,theClever,theMarvel, theCreature!’–didn’tyouhearhersayall that?”AndJohnthrewhisfootfromhimandroaredwithlaughterashethoughtofAuntFlossie.

“She likedmy trick, too,” saidBarbara complacently. “I tookoff bothmysocksandshesaidIwassosweetshewouldliketoeatme.Isn’titfunny–whenIsayI’dliketoeatsomethingIreallymeanit.BiscuitsandRusksandtheknobsofbedsandsoon.ButGrown-upsnevermeanwhat they say, it seems tome.Shecouldn’thavereallywantedtoeatme,couldshe?”

“No. It’s only the idiotic way they have of talking,” said John. “I don’tbelieveI’lleverunderstandGrown-ups.Theyallseemsostupid.AndevenJaneandMichaelarestupidsometimes.”

“Um,”agreedBarbara,thoughtfullypullingoffhersocks.“Forinstance,”Johnwenton,“theydon’tunderstandasinglethingwesay.

But,worsethanthat,theydon’tunderstandwhatotherthingssay.WhyonlylastMondayIheardJaneremarkthatshewishedsheknewwhatlanguagetheWindspoke.”

“I know,” said Barbara. “It’s astonishing. And Michael always insists –haven’tyouheardhim?–thattheStarlingsays‘Wee-Twe–ee–ee!’Heseemsnot to know that the Starling says nothing of the kind, but speaks exactly thesame language aswe do.Of course, one doesn’t expectMother andFather toknowaboutit–theydon’tknowanything,thoughtheyaresuchdarlings–butyou’dthinkJaneandMichaelwould—”

“Theydidonce,”saidMaryPoppins,foldinguponeofJane’snightgowns.“What?” said JohnandBarbara together invery surprisedvoices. “Really?

YoumeantheyunderstoodtheStarlingandtheWindand—”“Andwhatthetreessayandthelanguageofthesunlightandthestars–of

coursetheydid!Once,”saidMaryPoppins.“But – how is it that they’ve forgotten it all?” said John,wrinklinguphis

foreheadandtryingtounderstand.“Aha!” said the Starling knowingly, looking up from the remains of his

biscuit.“Wouldn’tyouliketoknow?”“Because they’vegrownolder,”explainedMaryPoppins. “Barbara,puton

yoursocksatonce,please.”

“That’sasillyreason,”saidJohn,lookingsternlyather.“It’s the true one, then,”Mary Poppins said, tyingBarbara’s socks firmly

roundherankles.“Well,it’sJaneandMichaelwhoaresilly,”Johncontinued.“IknowIshan’t

forgetwhenIgetolder.”“NorI,”saidBarbara,contentedlysuckingherfinger.“Yes,youwill,”saidMaryPoppinsfirmly.TheTwinssatupandlookedather.“Huh!”saidtheStarlingcontemptuously.“Lookat’em!Theythinkthey’re

theWorld’sWonders.Littlemiracles–Idon’t think!Ofcourseyou’llforget–sameasJaneandMichael.”

“Wewon’t,”saidtheTwins,lookingattheStarlingasiftheywouldliketomurderhim.

TheStarlingjeered.“Isayyouwill,”heinsisted.“Itisn’tyourfault,ofcourse,”headdedmore

kindly.“You’llforgetbecauseyoujustcan’thelpit.Thereneverwasahumanbeing that remembered after the age of one – at the very latest – except, ofcourse,Her.”AndhejerkedhisheadoverhisshoulderatMaryPoppins.

“Butwhycansherememberandnotus?”saidJohn.“A-a-a-h!She’sdifferent.She’stheGreatException.Can’tgobyher,”said

theStarling,grinningatthemboth.JohnandBarbaraweresilent.TheStarlingwentonexplaining.“She’ssomethingspecial,yousee.Notinthematteroflooks,ofcourse.One

ofmyownday-oldchicksishandsomerthatMaryP.everwas—”“Here,youimpertinence!”saidMaryPoppinscrossly,makingadartathim

andflickingheraproninhisdirection.ButtheStarlingleaptasideandflewuptothewindowframe,whistlingwickedly,welloutofreach.

“Thoughtyouhadmethattime,didn’tyou?”hejeeredandshookhiswing-feathersather.

MaryPoppinssnorted.Thesunlightmovedonthroughtheroom,drawingitslonggoldshaftafterit.

OutsidealightwindhadsprungupandwaswhisperinggentlytothecherrytreesintheLane.

“Listen, listen, thewind’s talking,” said John, tiltinghis headonone side.“Do you reallymean we won’t be able to hear that when we’re older,MaryPoppins?”

“You’llhearall right,”saidMaryPoppins,“butyouwon’tunderstand.”AtthatBarbarabegantoweepgently.ThereweretearsinJohn’seyes,too.“Well,itcan’tbehelped.It’showthingshappen,”saidMaryPoppinssensibly.

“Look at them, just look at them!” jeered the Starling. “Crying fit to killthemselves!Why,astarlingintheegg’sgotmoresense.Lookatthem!”

ForJohnandBarbarawerenowcryingpiteouslyintheircots–long-drawnsobsofdeepunhappiness.

SuddenlythedooropenedandincameMrsBanks.“IthoughtIheardthebabies,”shesaid,ThensherantotheTwins.“Whatis

it,mydarlings?Oh,myTreasures,mySweets,myLove-birds,whatisit?Whyare theycryingso,MaryPoppins?They’vebeensoquietallafternoon–notasoundoutofthem.Whatcanbethematter?”

“Yes,ma’am.No,ma’am.Iexpectthey’regettingtheirteeth,ma’am,”saidMaryPoppins,deliberatelynotlookinginthedirectionoftheStarling.

“Oh,ofcourse–thatmustbeit,”saidMrsBanksbrightly.“Idon’twantteethiftheymakemeforgetallthethingsIlikebest,”wailed

John,tossingaboutinhiscot.“NeitherdoI,”weptBarbara,buryingherfaceinherpillow.“My poor ones,my pets – it will be all right when the naughty old teeth

comethrough,”saidMrsBankssoothingly,goingfromonecottotheother.“Youdon’tunderstand!”roaredJohnfuriously.“Idon’twantteeth.”“Itwon’tbeallright,itwillbeallwrong!”wailedBarbaratoherpillow.“Yes–yes.There–there.Motherknows–Motherunderstands.Itwillbeall

rightwhentheteethcomethrough,”croonedMrsBankstenderly.A faint noise came from the window. It was the Starling hurriedly

swallowingalaugh.MaryPoppinsgavehimonelook.Thatsoberedhim,andhecontinuedtoregardthescenewithoutthehintofasmile.

MrsBankswaspattingherchildrengently,firstoneandthentheother,andmurmuring words that were meant to be reassuring. Suddenly John stoppedcrying. He had very good manners, and he was fond of his Mother andrememberedwhatwas due to her. Itwas nother fault, poorwoman, that shealways said the wrong thing. It was just, he reflected, that she did notunderstand.So,toshowthatheforgaveher,heturnedoveronhisback,andverydolefully,sniffingbackhistears,hepickeduphisrightfoot inbothhandsandranhistoesalonghisopenmouth.

“CleverOne,oh,CleverOne,”saidhisMotheradmiringly.Hedid itagainandshewasverypleased.

ThenBarbara,nottobeoutdoneincourtesy,cameoutofherpillowandwithhertearsstillwetonherface,satupandpluckedoffbothhersocks.

“Wonderfulgirl,”saidMrsBanksproudly,andkissedher.“There, you see, Mary Poppins! They’re quite good again. I can always

comfort them. Quite good, quite good,” saidMrs Banks, as though she weresingingalullaby.“Andtheteethwillsoonbethrough.”

“Yes,ma’am,” saidMary Poppins quietly; and smiling to the Twins,MrsBankswentoutandclosedthedoor.

The moment she had disappeared the Starling burst into a peal of rudelaughter.

“Excusemesmiling!”hecried.“Butreally–Ican’thelp it.Whatascene!Whatascene!”

Johntooknonoticeofhim.Hepushedhis face throughthebarsofhiscotandcalledsoftlyandfiercelytoBarbara:

“Iwon’t be like the others. I tell you I won’t. They,” he jerked his headtowards the Starling and Mary Poppins, “can say what they like. I’ll neverforget,never!”

MaryPoppins smiled, a secret, I-know-better-than-you sort of smile, all toherself.

“NorI,”answeredBarbara.“Ever.”“Blessmytail-feathers–listentothem!”shriekedtheStarling,asheputhis

wingsonhishipsandroaredwithmirth.“Asiftheycouldhelpforgetting!Why,inamonthortwo–threeatthemost–theywon’tevenknowwhatmynameis–silly cuckoos! Silly half-grown featherless cuckoos! Ha! Ha! Ha!” And withanother loudpealof laughterhespreadhisspeckledwingsandflewoutof thewindow.

Itwasnotverylongafterwardsthattheteeth,aftermuchtrouble,camethroughasallteethmust,andtheTwinshadtheirfirstbirthday.

ThedayafterthebirthdaypartytheStarling,whohadbeenawayonholidayatBournemouth,camebacktoNumberSeventeen,CherryTreeLane.

“Hullo,hullo,hullo!Hereweareagain!”hescreamedjoyfully,landingwithalittlewobbleuponthewindowsill.

“Well,how’s thegirl?”heenquiredcheekilyofMaryPoppins,cockinghislittleheadononesideandregardingherwithbright,amused,twinklingeyes.

“Nonethebetterforyourasking,”saidMaryPoppins,tossingherhead.TheStarlinglaughed.

“SameoldMaryP.,”hesaid.“Nochangeoutofyou!Howaretheotherones–thecuckoos?”heasked,andlookedacrossatBarbara’scot.

“Well,Barbarina,”hebeganinhissoft,wheedlingvoice,“anythingfor theoldfellowtoday?”

“Be-lah-belah-belah-belah!”saidBarbara,crooninggentlyasshecontinuedtoeatherarrowrootbiscuit.

TheStarling,withastartofsurprise,hoppedalittlenearer.“I said,” he repeatedmore distinctly, “is there anything for the old fellow

today,Barbiedear?”“Ba-loo–ba-loo–ba-loo!”murmuredBarbara,gazingupat theceilingas

sheswallowedthelastsweetcrumb.TheStarlingstaredather.“Ha!”hesaidsuddenly,andturnedandlookedenquiringlyatMaryPoppins.

Herquietglancemethisinalonglook.Then with a darting movement the Starling flew over to John’s cot and

alightedontherail.Johnhadalargewoollylambhuggedcloseinhisarms.“What’smyname?What’smyname?What’smyname?”criedtheStarling

inashrillanxiousvoice.“Er-umph!”saidJohn,openinghismouthandputtingthelegofthewoolly

lambintoit.“WithalittleshakeoftheheadtheStarlingturnedaway.“So–it’shappened,”hesaidquietlytoMaryPoppins.Shenodded.TheStarlinggazeddejectedlyforamomentattheTwins.Thenheshrugged

hisspeckledshoulders.“Oh,well–Iknewitwould.Alwaystold’emso.Buttheywouldn’tbelieve

it.”He remained silent for a littlewhile, staring into the cots. Then he shookhimselfvigorously.

“Well, well. I must be off. Back to my chimney. It will need a spring-cleaning,I’llbebound.”Heflewontothewindowsillandpaused,lookingbackoverhisshoulder.

“It’llseemfunnywithoutthem,though.Alwayslikedtalkingtothem–soIdid.Ishallmissthem.”

Hebrushedhiswingquicklyacrosshiseyes.“Crying?”jeeredMaryPoppins.TheStarlingdrewhimselfup.“Crying? Certainly not. I have – er – a slight cold, caught on my return

journey – that’s all. Yes, a slight cold.Nothing serious.”He darted up to the

windowpane, brushed down his breast-feathers with his beak and then,“Cheerio!”hesaidperkily,andspreadhiswingsandwasgone...

ChapterTen

FULLMOON

ALLDAYLONGMaryPoppinshadbeeninahurry,andwhenshewasinahurryshewasalwayscross.

EverythingJanedidwasbad,everythingMichaeldidwasworse.SheevensnappedattheTwins.

JaneandMichaelkeptoutofherwayasmuchaspossible,fortheyknewthatthereweretimeswhenitwasbetternottobeseenorheardbyMaryPoppins.

“Iwishwewereinvisible,”saidMichael,whenMaryPoppinshadtoldhimthat the very sight of himwasmore than any self-respecting person could beexpectedtostand.

“Weshallbe,”saidJane,“ifwegobehindthesofa.Wecancountthemoneyinourmoney-boxes,andshemaybebetteraftershe’shadhersupper.”

Sotheydidthat.“Sixpence and four pennies – that’s tenpence, and a halfpenny and a

threepenny-bit,”saidJane,countingupquickly.“Four pennies and three farthings and – and that’s all,” sighed Michael,

puttinghismoneyinalittleheap.“That’ll do nicely for the poor box,” saidMary Poppins, looking over the

armofthesofaandsniffing.“Ohno,”saidMichaelreproachfully.“It’sformyself.I’msaving.”“Huh – for one of those aeryplanes, I suppose!” said Mary Poppins

scornfully.“No, for an elephant – a private one formyself, like Lizzie at the Zoo. I

couldtakeyouforridesthen,”saidMichael,half-lookingandhalf-not-lookingathertoseehowshewouldtakeit.

“Humph,”saidMaryPoppins,“whatan idea!”But theycouldseeshewasnotquitesocrossasbefore.

“Iwonder,” saidMichael thoughtfully, “what happens in theZoo at night,wheneverybody’sgonehome?”

“Carekilledacat,”snappedMaryPoppins.

“I wasn’t caring, I was only wondering,” corrected Michael. “Do youknow?” he enquired ofMary Poppins, who was whisking the crumbs off thetableindouble-quicktime.

“Onemorequestionfromyou–andspit-spot,tobedyougo!”shesaid,andbeganto tidytheNurserysobusily thatshelookedmorelikeawhirlwindinacapandapronthanahumanbeing.

“It’s no good asking her. She knows everything, but she never tells,” saidJane.

“What’sthegoodofknowingifyoudon’ttellanyone?”grumbledMichael,buthesaiditunderhisbreathsothatMaryPoppinscouldn’thear...

JaneandMichaelcouldnever rememberhavingbeenput tobedsoquicklyastheywerethatnight.MaryPoppinsblewoutthelightveryearly,andwentawayashurriedlyasthoughallthewindsoftheworldwereblowingbehindher.

It seemed to them that they had been there no time, however, when theyheardalowvoicewhisperingatthedoor.

“Hurry,JaneandMichael!”saidthevoice.“Getsomethingsonandhurry!”Theyjumpedoutoftheirbeds,surprisedandstartled.“Come on,” said Jane. “Something’s happening.” And she began to

rummageforsomeclothesinthedarkness.“Hurry!”calledthevoiceagain.“Ohdear,allIcanfindismysailorhatandapairofgloves!”saidMichael,

runningroundtheroompullingatdrawersandfeelingalongshelves.“Those’lldo.Putthemon.Itisn’tcold.Comeon.”Jane herself had only been able to find a little coat of John’s, but she

squeezedherarmsintoitandopenedthedoor.Therewasnobodythere,buttheyseemed to hear something hurrying away down the stairs. Jane and Michaelfollowed.Whateveritwas,orwhoeveritwas,keptcontinuallyinfrontofthem.

Theyneversawit,buttheyhadthedistinctsensationofbeingledonandonby something that constantlybeckoned them to follow.Presently theywere inthe Lane, their slippers making a soft hissing noise on the pavement as theyscurriedalong.

“Hurry!”urgedthevoiceagainfromanearbycorner,butwhentheyturneditthey could still see nothing. They began to run, hand in hand, following thevoice down streets, through alleyways, under arches and across Parks until,pantingandbreathless,theywerebroughttoastandstillbesidealargeturnstileinawall.

“Hereyouare!”saidthevoice.“Where?”calledMichaeltoit.Buttherewasnoreply.Janemovedtowards

theturnstile,draggingMichaelbythehand.“Look!”shesaid.“Don’tyouseewhereweare?It’stheZoo!”A very bright full moon was shining in the sky and by its light Michael

examinedtheirongratingandlookedthroughthebars.Ofcourse!HowsillyofhimnottohaveknownitwastheZoo!

“Buthowshallwegetin?”hesaid.“We’venomoney.”“That’s all right!” said a deep, gruff voice from within. “Special Visitors

allowedinfreetonight.Pushthewheel,please!”JaneandMichaelpushedandwerethroughtheturnstileinasecond.“Here’syourticket,”thegruffvoicesaid,and,lookingup,theyfoundthatit

camefromahugeBrownBearwhowaswearingacoatwithbrassbuttonsandapeakedcaponhishead.Inhispawweretwopinkticketswhichheheldouttothechildren.

“Butweusuallygivetickets,”saidJane.“Usualisasusualdoes.Tonightyoureceivethem,”saidtheBear,smiling.Michaelhadbeenregardinghimclosely.“I remember you,” he said to the Bear. “I once gave you a tin of golden

syrup.”“Youdid,”saidtheBear.“Andyouforgottotakethelidoff.Doyouknow,I

wasmorethantendaysworkingatthatlid?Bemorecarefulinthefuture.”“But why aren’t you in your cage? Are you always out at night?” said

Michael.“No–onlywhen theBirthday fallsonaFullMoon.Butyoumust excuse

me.Imustattendtothegate.”AndtheBearturnedawayandbegantospinthehandleoftheturnstileagain.

JaneandMichael,holdingtheirtickets,walkedonintotheZoogrounds.Inthelightofthefullmooneverytreeandflowerandshrubwasvisible,andtheycouldseethehousesandcagesquiteclearly.

“Thereseemstobealotgoingon,”observedMichael.And indeed, there was. Animals were running about on all the paths,

sometimesaccompaniedbybirdsandsometimesalone.Twowolvesranpastthechildren, talking eagerly to a very tall storkwhowas tiptoeing between themwithdainty,delicatemovements.JaneandMichaeldistinctlycaught thewords“Birthday”and“FullMoon”astheywentby.

In the distance three camelswere strolling along side by side, and not far

awayabeaverandanAmericanvultureweredeepinconversation.Andtheyallseemedtothechildrentobediscussingthesamesubject.

“WhoseBirthdayisit,Iwonder?”saidMichael,butJanewasmovingahead,gazingatacurioussight.

JustbytheElephantStandaverylarge,veryfatoldgentlemanwaswalkingup and down on all fours, and on his back, on two small parallel seats,wereeightmonkeysgoingforaride.

“Why,it’sallupsidedown!”exclaimedJane.Theoldgentlemangaveheranangrylookashewentpast.“Upside down!” he snorted. “Me! Upside down? Certainly not. Gross

insult!”Theeightmonkeyslaughedrudely.“Oh, please – I didn’t mean you – but the whole thing,” explained Jane,

hurrying after him to apologize. “On ordinary days the animals carry humanbeings and now there’s a human being carrying the animals. That’s what Imeant.”

But the old gentleman, shuffling and panting, insisted that he had beeninsulted,andhurriedawaywiththemonkeysscreamingonhisback.

Jane saw it was no good following him, so she tookMichael’s hand andmoved onwards. Theywere startledwhen a voice, almost at their feet, hailedthem.

“Comeon,youtwo!Inyoucome,Let’sseeyoudiveforabitoforangepeelyoudon’twant.”Itwasabitter,angryvoice,andlookingdowntheysawthatitcamefromasmallblackSealwhowasleeringat themfromamoonlitpoolofwater.

“Comeon,now–andseehowyoulikeit!”hesaid.“But–butwecan’tswim!”saidMichael.“Can’t help that!” said the Seal. “You should have thought of that before.

Nobodyeverbothers tofindoutwhetherIcanswimornot.Eh,what?What’sthat?”

HespokethelastquestiontoanotherSealwhohademergedfromthewaterandwaswhisperinginhisear.

“Who?”saidthefirstSeal.“Speakup!”ThesecondSealwhisperedagain.Janecaughtthewords“SpecialVisitors–

Friendsof—”andthennomore.ThefirstSealseemeddisappointed,buthesaidpolitelyenoughtoJaneandMichael:

“Oh, beg pardon. Pleased tomeet you. Beg pardon.”And he held out hisflipperandshookhandslimplywiththemboth.

“Lookwhere you’re going, can’t you?” he shouted, as something bumpedintoJane.SheturnedquicklyandgavealittlefrightenedstartasshebeheldanenormousLion.TheeyesoftheLionbrightenedashesawher.

“Oh,Isay—”hebegan.“Ididn’tknowitwasyou!ThisplaceissocrowdedtonightandI’minsuchahurry tosee thehumansfedI’mafraid Ididn’t lookwhereIwasgoing.Comingalong?Yououghtn’ttomissit,youknow—”

“Perhaps,” said Jane politely, “you’d show us the way.” She was a littleuncertainoftheLion,butheseemedkindlyenough.“Andafterall,”shethought,“everythingistopsy-turvytonight.”

“Dee-lighted!”saidtheLioninratheramincingvoice,andheofferedherhisarm.Shetookit,buttobeonthesafesideshekeptMichaelbesideher.Hewassucharound,fatlittleboy,andafterall,shethought,lionsarelions—

“Does mymane look nice?” asked the Lion as they moved off. “I had itcurledfortheoccasion.”

Janelookedatit.Shecouldseethatithadbeencarefullyoiledandcombedintoringlets.

“Very,” she said. “But – isn’t it rather odd for a lion to care about suchthings?Ithought—”

“What! My dear young lady, the Lion, as you know, is the King of theBeasts. He has to remember his position. And I, personally, am not likely toforgetit.Ibelievealionshouldalwayslookhisbestnomatterwhereheis.Thisway.”

Andwith a gracefulwave of his forepaw he pointed towards the Big CatHouseandusheredtheminattheentrance.

Jane andMichael caught their breaths at the sight thatmet their eyes.Thegreathallwasthrongedwithanimals.Somewereleaningoverthelongbarthatseparatedthemfromthecages,somewerestandingontheseatsthatroseintiersopposite. There were panthers and leopards, wolves, tigers and antelopes;monkeys and hedgehogs, wombats, mountain goats and giraffes; and anenormousgroupcomposedentirelyofkittiwakesandvultures.

“Splendid, isn’t it?” said the Lion proudly. “Just like the dear old jungledays.Butcomealong–wemustgetgoodplaces.”

And he pushed his way through the crowd crying, “Gangway, gangway!”anddraggingJaneandMichaelafterhim.Presently,throughalittleclearinginthemiddleofthehall,theywereabletogetaglimpseofthecages.

“Why,”saidMichael,openinghismouthverywide,“they’refullofhumanbeings!”

Andtheywere.In one cage two large, middle-aged gentlemen in top hats and striped

trousers were prowling up and down, anxiously gazing through the bars asthoughtheywerewaitingforsomething.

Childrenofallshapesandsizes,frombabiesinlongclothesupwards,werescramblingaboutinanothercage.Theanimalsoutsideregardedthesewithgreatinterestandsomeofthemtriedtomakethebabieslaughbythrustingtheirpawsortheir tails inthroughthebars.Agiraffestretchedhislongneckoutovertheheadsoftheotheranimalsandletalittleboyinasailor-suittickleitsnose.

In a third cage three elderly ladies in raincoats and galoshes wereimprisoned.Oneofthemwasknitting,buttheothertwowerestandingnearthebarsshoutingattheanimalsandpokingatthemwiththeirumbrellas.

“Nastybrutes.Goaway.Iwantmytea!”screamedoneofthem.“Isn’t she funny?” said several of the animals, and they laughed loudly at

her.“Jane–look!”saidMichael,pointingtothecageattheendoftherow.“Isn’t

that—”“AdmiralBoom!”saidJane,lookingverysurprised.And Admiral Boom it was. He was ramping up and down in his cage,

coughing,andblowinghisnose,andsplutteringwithrage.“Blast my gizzard! All hands to the Pump! Land, ho! Heave away there!

Blastmy gizzard!” shouted theAdmiral. Every time he came near the bars atiger prodded him gently with a stick and this made Admiral Boom sweardreadfully.

“Buthowdidtheyallgetinthere?”JaneaskedtheLion.“Lost,”said theLion.“Or rather, leftbehind.Theseare thepeoplewho’ve

dawdled and been left inside when the gates were shut. Got to put ’emsomewhere,sowekeep’emhere.He’sdangerous– thatonethere!Nearlydidfor his keeper not long ago.Don’t go near him!”And he pointed at AdmiralBoom.

“Standback,please,standback!Don’tcrush!Makeway,please!”JaneandMichaelcouldhearseveralvoicescryingthesewordsloudly.

“Ah – now they’re going to be fed!” said the Lion, excitedly pressingforwardintothecrowd.“Herecomethekeepers.”

Four BrownBears, eachwearing a peaked cap, were trundling trolleys offoodalongthelittlecorridorthatseparatedtheanimalsfromtheircages.

“Standback,there!”theysaid,wheneverananimalgotintheway.Thenthey

openedasmalldoorineachcageandthrustthefoodthroughonprongedforks.Jane andMichael had a goodviewofwhatwas happening, through a gap

between a panther and a dingo. Bottles of milk were being thrown in to thebabies,whomadesoftlittlegrabswiththeirhandsandclutchedthemgreedily.The older children snatched sponge cakes and doughnuts from the forks andbegan toeat ravenously.Platesof thinbread-and-butterandwholemeal sconeswereprovidedfortheladiesingaloshes,andthegentlemenintophatshadlambcutlets andcustard inglasses.These, as they received their food, took it awayintoacorner,spreadhandkerchiefsovertheirstripedtrousersandbegantoeat.

Presently,asthekeeperspasseddownthelineofcages,agreatcommotionwasheard.

“Blast my vitals – call that a meal? A skimpy little round of beef and acouple of cabbages!What – noYorkshire pudding?Outrageous!Upwith theanchor!Andwhere’smyport?Port,Isay!Heaveherover!Belowthere,where’stheAdmiral’sport?”

“Listentohim!He’sturnednasty.Itellyou,he’snotsafe–thatone,”saidtheLion.

Jane and Michael did not need to be told whom he meant. They knewAdmiralBoom’slanguagetoowell.

“Well,” said theLion, as the noise in the hall grew less uproarious. “Thatappears to be the end.And I’m afraid, if you’ll excuseme, Imust be gettingalong. See you later at theGrand Chain, I hope. I’ll look out for you.”And,leadingthemtothedoor,hetookhisleaveofthem,sidlingaway,swinginghiscurledmane,hisgoldenbodydappledwithmoonlightandshadow.

“Oh,please—”Janecalledafterhim.Buthewasoutofhearing.“Iwantedtoaskhimifthey’devergetout.Thepoorhumans!Why,itmight

havebeenJohnandBarbara–oranyofus.”SheturnedtoMichael,butfoundthathewasno longerbyherside.Hehadmovedawayalongoneof thepathsand,runningafterhim,shefoundhimtalkingtoaPenguinwhowasstandinginthemiddleofthepathwithalargecopybookunderonewingandanenormouspencil under the other. He was biting the end of it thoughtfully as sheapproached.

“Ican’tthink,”sheheardMichaelsaying,apparentlyinanswertoaquestion.ThePenguinturnedtoJane.“Perhapsyoucantellme,”hesaid.“Now,what

rhymeswithMary?Ican’tuse‘contrary’becausethathasbeendonebeforeandonemustbeoriginal. Ifyou’regoing tosay ‘fairy’,don’t. I’ve thoughtof thatalready,butasit’snotabitlikeher,itwon’tdo.”

“Hairy,”saidMichaelbrightly.“Him.Notpoeticenough,”observedthePenguin.“Whatabout‘wary’?”saidJane.“Well—”ThePenguinappearedtobeconsideringit.“It’snotverygood,is

it?”hesaidforlornly.“I’mafraidI’llhavetogiveitup.Yousee,IwastryingtowriteapoemfortheBirthday.IthoughtitwouldbesoniceifIbegan:

‘OMary,Mary—’

andthenIcouldn’tgetanyfurther. It’sveryannoying.Theyexpectsomethinglearnt from a penguin, and I don’twant to disappoint them.Well,well – youmustn’tkeepme.Imustgetonwithit.”Andwiththathehurriedaway,bitinghispencilandbendingoverhiscopybook.

“Thisisallveryconfusing,”saidJane.“Whosebirthdayisit,Iwonder?”“Now,comealong,youtwo,comealong.Youwanttopayyourrespects,I

suppose, itbeing theBirthdayandall!”saidavoicebehind themand, turning,theysawtheBrownBearwhohadgiventhemtheirticketsatthegate.

“Oh,ofcourse!”saidJane,thinkingthatwasthesafestthingtosay,butnotknowingintheleastwhomtheyweretopaytheirrespectsto.

TheBrownBearputanarmroundeachof themandpropelled themalongthe path. They could feel hiswarm soft fur brushing against their bodies andheartherumblingshisvoicemadeinhisstomachashetalked.

“Hereweare,hereweare!” said theBrownBear, stoppingbeforea smallhousewhosewindowswereallsobrightlylitthatifithadn’tbeenamoonlightnightyouwouldhave thought the sunwas shining.TheBearopened thedoorandgentlypushedthetwochildrenthroughit.

Thelightdazzledthematfirst,buttheireyessoonbecameaccustomedtoitandtheysawthattheywereintheSnakeHouse.Allthecageswereopenandthesnakes were out – some curled lazily into great scaly knots, others slippinggently about the floor. And in the middle of the snakes, on a log that hadevidently been brought from one of the cages, sat Mary Poppins. Jane andMichaelcouldhardlybelievetheireyes.

“Couplabirthdayguests,ma’am,” announced theBrownBear respectfully.The snakes turned their heads enquiringly towards the children.MaryPoppinsdidnotmove.Butshespoke.

“Andwhere’syourovercoat,mayIask?”shedemanded,lookingcrosslybutwithoutsurpriseatMichael.

“Andyourhatandgloves?”shesnapped,turningtoJane.But before either of them had time to reply there was a stir in the Snake

House.“Hsssst!Hsssst!”Thesnakes,withasofthissingsound,wererisinguponendandbowingto

somethingbehindJaneandMichael.TheBrownBear tookoffhispeakedcap.AndslowlyMaryPoppins,too,stoodup.

“Mydear child.Myverydear child!” said a small, delicate, hissingvoice.And out from the largest of the cages there came, with slow, soft, windingmovements,aHamadryad.HeslidingracefulcurvespastthebowingsnakesandtheBrownBear,towardsMaryPoppins.Andwhenhereachedher,heraisedthefronthalfofhislonggoldenbody,and,thrustingupwardshisscalygoldenhood,daintilykissedher,firstononecheekandthenontheother.

“So!”hehissed softly. “This is verypleasant–verypleasant, indeed. It islongsinceyourBirthdayfellonaFullMoon,mydear.”Heturnedhishead.

“Beseated,friends!”hesaid,bowinggraciouslytotheothersnakes,who,atthat word, slid reverently to the floor again, coiled themselves up, and gazedsteadilyattheHamadryadandMaryPoppins.

TheHamadryad turned them to Jane andMichael, andwith a little shiverthey saw that his facewas smaller andmorewizened than anything they hadeverseen.Theytookastepforward,forhiscuriousdeepeyesseemedtodrawthemtowardshim.Longandnarrowtheywere,withadarksleepylookinthem,andinthemiddleofthatdarksleepinessawakefullightlikeajewel.

“Andwho,mayIask,arethese?”hesaidinhissoft,terrifyingvoice,lookingatthechildrenenquiringly.

“Miss Jane Banks and Master Michael Banks, at your service,” said theBrownBeargruffly,asthoughhewerehalfafraid.“Herfriends.”

“Ah,herfriends.Thentheyarewelcome.Mydears,praybeseated.”JaneandMichael,feelingsomehowthattheywereinthepresenceofaKing

–astheyhadnotfeltwhentheymettheLion–withdifficultydrewtheireyesfromthatcompellinggazeandlookedroundforsomethingtositon.TheBrownBear provided this by squatting down himself and offering them each a furryknee.

Janesaid,inawhisper:“Hetalksasthoughhewereagreatlord.”“He is.He’sthelordofourworld–thewisestandmostterribleofusall,”

saidtheBrownBearsoftlyandreverently.The Hamadryad smiled, a long, slow, secret smile, and turned to Mary

Poppins.“Cousin,”hebegangentlyhissing.“Isshereallyhiscousin?”whisperedMichael.“First cousin once removed – on the mother’s side,” returned the Brown

Bear,whisperingtheinformationbehindhispaw.“But, listennow.He’sgoingtogivetheBirthdayPresent.”

“Cousin,”repeatedtheHamadryad,“itislongsinceyourBirthdayfellontheFull Moon and long since we have been able to celebrate the event as wecelebrate it tonight. I have, therefore, had time to give the question of yourBirthday Present some consideration. And I have decided” – he paused, andthere was no sound in the Snake House but the sound of many creatures allholding their breath – “that I cannot do better than give you one ofmy ownskins.”

“Indeed, cousin, it is too kind of you—” began Mary Poppins, but theHamadryadhelduphishoodforsilence.

“Notatall.Notatall.YouknowthatIchangemyskinfromtimetotimeandthat onemore or lessmeans little tome.Am I not—?”he paused and lookedroundhim.

“The Lord of the Jungle,” hissed all the snakes in unison, as though thequestionandtheanswerwerepartofawell-knownceremony.

TheHamadryadnodded.“So,”hesaid,“whatseemsgoodtomewillseemsotoyou.Itisasmallenoughgift,dearMary,butitmayserveforabeltorapairofshoes,evenahatband–thesethingsalwayscomeinuseful,youknow.”

Andwith thathebegan to swaygently fromside to side,and it seemed toJane andMichael as theywatched that littlewaveswere running up his bodyfromthetailtothehead.Suddenlyhegavealong,twisting,corkscrewleapandhisgoldenouterskinlayonthefloor,andinitsplacehewaswearinganewcoatofshiningsilver.

“Wait!” said theHamadryad, asMaryPoppinsbent topickup the skin. “IwillwriteaGreetinguponit.”Andheranhistailveryquicklyalonghisthrownskin,deftlybentthegoldensheathintoacircle,anddivinghisheadthroughthisas though itwereacrown,offered itgraciously toMaryPoppins.She took it,bowing.

“Ijustcan’tthankyouenough—”shebegan,andpaused.Shewasevidentlyverypleased,forshekeptrunningtheskinbackwardsandforwardsthroughherfingersandlookingatitadmiringly.

“Don’t try,” said the Hamadryad. “Hsst!” he went on, and spread out his

hoodasthoughhewerelisteningwithit.“DoInothearthesignalfortheGrandChain?”

Everybodylistened.Abellwasringingandadeepgruffvoicecouldbeheardcomingnearerandnearer,cryingout:

“GrandChain,GrandChain!Everybody to the centre for theGrandChainandFinale.Comealong,comealong.StandreadyfortheGrandChain!”

“I thought so,” said theHamadryad, smiling. “Youmust be off,my dear.They’ll bewaiting foryou to takeyourplace in the centre.Farewell, till yournextBirthday.”AndheraisedhimselfashehaddonebeforeandlightlysalutedMaryPoppinsonbothcheeks.

“Hurryaway!”saidtheHamadryad.“Iwilltakecareofyouryoungfriends.”JaneandMichaelfelttheBrownBearmovingunderthemastheystoodup.

Pasttheirfeettheycouldfeelallthesnakesslippingandwrithingastheyhurriedfrom the Snake House. Mary Poppins bowed towards the Hamadryad veryceremoniously, and without a backward glance at the children went runningtowardsthehugegreensquareinthecentreoftheZoo.

“You may leave us,” said the Hamadryad to the Brown Bear who, afterbowinghumbly,ranoffwithhiscapinhishandtowherealltheotheranimalswerecongregatingroundMaryPoppins.

“Will you gowithme?” said theHamadryad kindly to Jane andMichael.And without waiting for them to reply he slid between them, and with amovementofhishooddirectedthemtowalkoneoneithersideofhim.

“Ithasbegun,”hesaid,hissingwithpleasure.AndfromtheloudcriesthatwerenowcomingfromtheGreen,thechildren

couldguessthathemeanttheGrandChain.Astheydrewnearertheycouldhearthe animals singing and shouting, and presently they saw leopards and lions,beaverscamels,bears,cranes,antelopesandmanyothersallformingthemselvesintoaringroundMaryPoppins.Thentheanimalsbegantomove,wildlycryingtheir Jungle songs, prancing in and out of the ring, and exchanging hand andwingastheywentasdancersdointheGrandChainoftheLancers.

Alittlepipingvoicerosehighabovetherest:

“Oh,Mary,Mary,She’smyDearie,She’smyDear-i-o!”

AndtheysawthePenguincomedancingby,wavinghisshortwingsandsinginglustily.Hecaughtsightofthem,bowedtotheHamadryad,andcalledout:

“I got it –didyouhearme singing it? It’s not perfect, of course. ‘Dearie’doesnotrhymeexactlywithMary.Butit’lldo,it’lldo!”andheskippedoffandofferedhiswingtoaleopard.

JaneandMichaelwatchedthedance,theHamadryadsecretandstillbetweenthem.As their friend theLion, dancingpast, bent down to take thewingof aBrazilianPheasantinhispaw,Janeshylytriedtoputherfeelingsintowords.

“I thought, Sir—” she began and stopped, feeling confused, and not surewhethersheoughttosayitornot.

“Speak,mychild!”saidtheHamadryad.“Youthought?”“Well–thatlionsandbirds,andtigersandlittleanimals—”TheHamadryad helped her. “You thought that theywere natural enemies,

thatthelioncouldnotmeetabirdwithouteatingit,northetigerthehare–eh?”Janeblushedandnodded.“Ah–youmaybe right. It is probable.Butnoton theBirthday,” said the

Hamadryad.“Tonightthesmallarefreefromthegreatandthegreatprotectthesmall.EvenI—”hepausedandseemedtobethinkingdeeply,“evenIcanmeetaBarnacle goosewithout any thought of dinner – on this occasion.And afterall,”hewenton,flickinghisterriblelittleforkedtongueinandoutashespoke,“itmaybe that toeatandbeeatenare thesame thing in theend.Mywisdomtellsmethatthisisprobablyso.Weareallmadeofthesamestuff,remember,weof theJungle,youof theCity.Thesamesubstancecomposesus– the treeoverhead,thestonebeneathus,thebird,thebeast,thestar–weareallone,allmovingtothesameend.Rememberthatwhenyounolongerrememberme,mychild.”

“But how can tree be stone? A bird is not me. Jane is not a tiger,” saidMichaelstoutly.

“You think not?” said the Hamadryad’s hissing voice. “Look!” and henoddedhishead towards themovingmassofcreaturesbefore them.Birdsandanimalswerenowswayingtogether,closelyencirclingMaryPoppins,whowasrocking lightly from side to side. Backwards and forwards went the swayingcrowd,keepingtimetogether,swinginglikethependulumofaclock.Eventhetreeswerebendingandliftinggently,andthemoonseemedtoberockingintheskyasashiprocksonthesea.

“Birdandbeastandstoneandstar–weareallone,allone—”murmuredtheHamadryad,softlyfoldinghishoodabouthimashehimselfswayedbetweenthe

children.“Childandserpent,starandstone–allone.”The hissing voice grew softer. The cries of the swaying animals dwindled

and became fainter. Jane andMichael, as they listened, felt themselves gentlyrockingtoo,orasiftheywerebeingrocked...

Soft,shadedlightfellontheirfaces.“Asleepanddreaming–bothofthem,”saidawhisperingvoice.Wasitthe

voiceof theHamadryad,or theirmother’svoiceasshe tuckedthemin,onherusualnightlyroundoftheNursery?

“Good.”WasthattheBrownBeargrufflyspeaking,orMrBanks?JaneandMichael,rockingandswaying,couldnottell...couldnottell...

“Ihadsucha strangedream lastnight,” said Jane,as shesprinkledsugaroverher porridge at breakfast. “I dreamt we were at the Zoo and it was MaryPoppins’birthday,andinsteadofanimalsinthecagestherewerehumanbeings,andalltheanimalswereoutside—”

“Why, that’s my dream. I dreamt that, too,” said Michael, looking verysurprised.

“Wecan’tbothhavedreamtthesamething,”saidJane.“Areyousure?DoyouremembertheLionwhocurledhismaneandtheSealwhowantedusto—”

“Divefororangepeel?”saidMichael.“OfcourseIdo!Andthebabiesinsidethecage,andthePenguinwhocouldn’tfindarhyme,andtheHamadryad—”

“Thenitcouldn’thavebeenadreamatall,”saidJaneemphatically.“Itmusthave been true.And if itwas—”She looked curiously atMaryPoppins,whowasboilingthemilk.

“Mary Poppins,” she said, “could Michael and I have dreamed the samedream?”

“You and your dreams!” saidMary Poppins, sniffing. “Eat your porridge,please,oryouwillhavenobutteredtoast.”

ButJanewouldnotbeputoff.Shehadtoknow.“MaryPoppins,”shesaid,lookingveryhardather,“wereyouattheZoolast

night?”MaryPoppins’eyespopped.“At theZoo? In themiddleof thenight?Me?Aquietorderlypersonwho

knowsthatearlytobed,earlytorisemakesamanhealthy,wealthyandwise?”“Butwereyou?”Janepersisted.“I have all I need of zoos in this nursery, thank you,” saidMary Poppins

uppishly. “Hyenas, orang-utans, all of you. Sit up straight, and no morenonsense.”

Janepouredouthermilk.“Thenitmusthavebeenadream,”shesaid,“afterall.”But Michael was staring, open-mouthed, at Mary Poppins, who was now

makingtoastatthefire.“Jane,”hesaidinashrillwhisper,“Jane, look!”Hepointed,andJane, too,

sawwhathewaslookingat.Round her waistMary Poppins was wearing a belt made of golden scaly

snakeskin,andonitwaswrittenincurving,snakywriting:

“APresentFromtheZoo.”

ChapterEleven

CHRISTMASSHOPPING

“ISMELLSNOW,”saidJane,astheygotoutoftheBus.“IsmellChristmastrees,”saidMichael.“Ismellfriedfish,”saidMaryPoppins.Andthentherewasnotimetosmellanythingelse,fortheBushadstopped

outsidetheLargestShopintheWorld,andtheywereallgoingintoittodotheirChristmasshopping.

“Maywelookatthewindowsfirst?”saidMichael,hoppingexcitedlyononeleg.

“Idon’tmind,” saidMaryPoppinswith surprisingmildness.Not that Janeand Michael were really very surprised, for they knew that the thing MaryPoppinslikeddoingbestofallwaslookinginshopwindows.Theyknew,too,that while they saw toys and books and holly-boughs and plum cakes MaryPoppinssawnothingbutherselfreflectedthere.

“Look,aeroplanes!”saidMichael,astheystoppedbeforeawindowinwhichtoyaeroplaneswerecareeringthroughtheaironwires.

“Andlookthere!”saidJane.“Twotinyblackbabiesinonecradle–aretheychocolate,doyouthink,orchina?”

“Just lookatyou!” saidMaryPoppins toherself,particularlynoticinghownicehernewgloveswith the fur tops looked.Theywere the firstpair shehadeverhad,andshethoughtshewouldnevergrowtiredoflookingatthemintheshopwindowswithherhandsinsidethem.Andhavingexaminedthereflectionof the gloves shewent carefully over herwhole person – coat, hat, scarf andshoes,withherself inside– and she thought that, on thewhole, shehadneverseenanybodylookingquitesosmartanddistinguished.

Butthewinterafternoons,sheknew,wereshort,andtheyhadtobehomebyteatime.Sowithasighshewrenchedherselfawayfromhergloriousreflection.

“Nowwewillgoin,”shesaid,andannoyedJaneandMichaelverymuchbylingeringattheHaberdasherycounterandtakinggreattroubleoverthechoiceofareelofblackcotton.

“TheToyDepartment,”Michaelremindedher,“isinthatdirection.”“I know, thank you. Don’t point,” she said, and paid her bill with

aggravatingslowness.Butat last theyfound themselvesalongsideFatherChristmas,whowent to

thegreatesttroubleinhelpingthemchoosetheirpresents.“Thatwilldonicely forDaddy,” saidMichael, selectinga clockwork train

withspecialsignals.“IwilltakecareofitforhimwhenhegoestotheCity.”“I think I will get this for Mother,” said Jane, pushing a small doll’s

perambulatorwhich,shefeltsure,herMotherhadalwayswanted.“Perhapsshewilllendittomesometimes.”

After that,Michaelchoseapacketofhairpins foreachof theTwinsandaMeccano set for hisMother, amechanical beetle for RobertsonAy, a pair ofspectaclesforEllen,whoseeyesightwasperfectlygood,andsomebootlacesforMrsBrillwhoalwaysworeslippers.

Jane,aftersomehesitation,eventuallydecidedthatawhitedickeywouldbejust thethingforMrBanks,andsheboughtRobinsonCrusoe for theTwinstoreadwhentheygrewup.

“Until theyareoldenough,Icanreaditmyself,”shesaid.“Iamsuretheywilllendittome.”

MaryPoppinsthenhadagreatargumentwithFatherChristmasoveracakeofsoap.

“WhynotLifebuoy?”saidFatherChristmas,tryingtobehelpfulandlookinganxiouslyatMaryPoppins,forshewasbeingrathersnappy.

“IpreferVinolia,”shesaidhaughtily,andsheboughtacakeofthat.“My goodness,” she said, smoothing the fur on her right-hand glove. “I

wouldn’thalflikeacupoftea!”“Wouldyouquarterlikeit,though?”askedMichael.“There isnocall foryou tobefunny,”saidMaryPoppins, insuchavoice

thatMichaelfeltthat,indeed,therewasn’t.“Anditistimetogohome.”There!Shehadsaidtheverywordstheyhadbeenhopingshewouldn’tsay.

ThatwassolikeMaryPoppins.“Justfiveminuteslonger,”pleadedJane.“Ahdo,MaryPoppins!Youlooksoniceinyournewgloves,”saidMichael

wilily.ButMaryPoppins,thoughsheappreciatedtheremark,wasnottakeninbyit.“No,” she said, and closedhermouthwith a snap and stalked towards the

doorway.“Oh,dear!”saidMichaeltohimself,ashefollowedher,staggeringunderthe

weightofhisparcels.“Ifonlyshewouldsay‘Yes’foronce!”But Mary Poppins hurried on and they had to go with her. Behind them

FatherChristmaswaswavinghishand, and theFairyQueenon theChristmastree and all the other dolls were smiling sadly and saying, “Take me home,somebody!”andtheaeroplaneswereallbeatingtheirwingsandsayinginbird-likevoices,“Letmefly!Ah,doletmefly!”

JaneandMichaelhurriedaway,closingtheirearstothoseenchantingvoices,and feeling that the time in the Toy Department had been unreasonably andcruellyshort.

And then, just as they came towards the shop entrance, the adventurehappened.

They were just about to spin the glass door and go out, when they sawcomingtowardsitfromthepavementtherunning,flickeringfigureofachild.

“Look!”saidJaneandMichaelbothtogether.“My gracious, goodness, glory me!” exclaimed Mary Poppins, and stood

still.Andwellshemight,forthechildhadpracticallynoclotheson,onlyalight

wispy stripofblue stuff that lookedas though shehad torn it from the sky towraproundhernakedbody.

It was evident that she did not knowmuch about spinning doors, for shewent round and round inside it, pushing it so that it should spin faster andlaughingasitcaughtherandsentherwhirlingroundandround.Thensuddenly,withaquicklittlemovementshefreedherself,sprangawayfromitandlandedinsidetheshop.

Shepausedontiptoe,turningherheadthiswayandthat,asthoughshewerelookingforsomeone.Then,withastartofpleasure,shecaughtsightofJaneandMichael andMary Poppins as they stood, half-hidden behind an enormous firtree,andrantowardsthemjoyously.

“Ah,thereyouare!Thankyouforwaiting.I’mafraidI’malittlelate,”saidthechild,stretchingoutherbrightarmstoJaneandMichael.“Now,”shecockedherheadononeside,“aren’tyougladtoseeme?Sayyes,sayyes!”

“Yes,”saidJanesmiling,fornobody,shefelt,couldhelpbeinggladtoseeanyonesobrightandhappy.“Butwhoareyou?”sheenquiredcuriously.

“Whatisyourname?”saidMichael,gazingather.“WhoamI?Whatismyname?Don’tsayyoudon’tknowme?Oh,surely,

surely—”Thechildseemedverysurprisedandalittledisappointed.SheturnedsuddenlytoMaryPoppinsandpointedherfinger.

“Sheknowsme.Don’tyou?I’msureyouknowme!”TherewasacuriouslookonMaryPoppins’face.JaneandMichaelcouldsee

bluefires inhereyesas thoughtheyreflectedtheblueof thechild’sdressandherbrightness.

“Doesit–doesit,”shewhispered,“beginwithanM?”Thechildhoppedononelegdelightedly.“Ofcourse itdoes–andyouknow it.M-A-I-A. I’mMaia.”She turned to

JaneandMichael.“Nowyourecognizeme,don’tyou?I’mthesecondofthePleiades.Electra–

she’s theeldest–couldn’tcomebecauseshe’smindingMerope.Merope’s thebaby,andtheotherfiveofuscomeinbetween–allgirls.OurMotherwasverydisappointedatfirstnottohaveaboy,butnowshedoesn’tmind.”

Thechilddancedafewstepsandburstoutagaininherexcitedlittlevoice:“Oh,Jane!Oh,Michael–I’veoftenwatchedyoufromthesky,andnowI’m

actually talking to you. There is nothing about you I don’t know. Michaeldoesn’tlikehavinghishairbrushed,andJanehasathrush’segginajamjaronthemantelpiece.AndyourFatherisgoingbaldonthetop.Ilikehim.Itwashewho first introduced us – don’t you remember? He said one evening lastsummer:

“‘Look, there are thePleiades. Seven stars all together, the smallest in thesky.Butthereisoneofthemyoucan’tsee.’

“He meant Merope, of course. She’s still too young to stay up all night.She’ssuchababythatshehastogotobedveryearly.Someofthemuptherecall us the Little Sisters, and sometimes we are called the Seven Doves, butOrioncallsus‘Yougirls’andtakesushuntingwithhim.”

“Butwhatareyoudoinghere?”demandedMichael,stillverysurprised.Maialaughed.“AskMaryPoppins.Iamsuresheknows.”“Tellus,MaryPoppins,”saidJane.“Well,”saidMaryPoppinssnappily,“Isupposeyoutwoaren’ttheonlyones

intheworldthatwanttogoshoppingatChristmas—”“That’sit,”squealedMaiadelightedly.“She’squiteright.I’vecomedownto

buytoysforthemall.Wecan’tgetawayveryoften,youknow,becausewe’resobusy making and storing up the Spring Rains. That’s the special job of thePleiades.However,wedrewlotsandIwon.Wasn’titlucky?”

Shehuggedherselfhappily.

“Now,comeon.Ican’tstayvery long.Andyoumustcomebackandhelpmechoose.”

And dancing about them, running now to one and now to another, sheshepherded them back to the Toy Department. As they went, the crowds ofshoppersstoodandstaredatthemanddroppedtheirparcelswithastonishment.

“So cold for her.What can her parents be thinking of!” said theMothers,withvoicesthatweresuddenlysoftandgentle.

“Imeantosay—!”saidtheFathers.“Itshouldn’tbeallowed.MustwritetoTheTimesaboutit.”Andtheirvoiceswereunnaturallygruffandgritty.

The shopwalkers behaved curiously, too. As the little group passed theybowedtoMaiaasthoughshewereaQueen.

But noneof them–not Jane, norMichael, norMaryPoppins, norMaia –noticed nor heard anything extraordinary. Theywere too busywith their ownextraordinaryadventure.

“Hereweare!”saidMaia,asshepranced into theToyDepartment.“Now,whatshallwechoose?”

AnAssistant,withastart,bowedrespectfullyassoonashesawher.“Iwantsomethingforeachofmysisters–sixofthem.Youmusthelpme,

please,”saidMaia,smilingathim.“Certainly,madam,”saidtheAssistantagreeably.“First–myeldestsister,”saidMaia.“She’sverydomestic.Whataboutthat

little stovewith the silver saucepans?Yes.And that stripedbroom.Weare sotroubledwithStardust,andshewilllovehavingthattosweepitupwith.”

TheAssistantbeganwrappingthethingsincolouredpaper.“NowforTaygete.Shelikesdancing.Don’tyouthink,Jane,askipping-rope

wouldbejustthethingforher?You’lltiethemcarefully,won’tyou?”shesaidtotheAssistant.“Ihavealongwaytogo.”

She fluttered on among the toys, never standing still for a moment, butwalkingwitha lightquicksilver step, as thoughshewere still twinkling in thesky.

MaryPoppinsandJaneandMichaelcouldnottaketheireyesoffherassheflickeredfromoneofthemtoanotheraskingtheiradvice.

“Then there’s Alcyone. She’s difficult. She’s so quiet and thoughtful andnever seems towant anything.Abook, do you think,MaryPoppins?What isthis Family – the Swiss-Robinsons? I think she would like that. And if shedoesn’t,shecanlookatthepictures.Wrapitup!”

ShehandedthebooktotheAssistant.

“IknowwhatCelænowants,”shewenton.“Ahoop.Shecanbowlitacrosstheskyinthedaytimeandmakeacircleofit tospinaboutheratnight.She’lllovethatredandblueone.”TheAssistantbowedagainandbegantowrapupthehoop.

“Nowthereareonlythetwolittleonesleft.Michael,whatwouldyouadviseforSterope?”

“What about a top?” said Michael, giving the question his earnestconsideration.

“Ahummingtop?”Whatagoodidea!Shewilllovetowatchitgowaltzingandsingingdownthesky.AndwhatdoyouthinkforMerope,thebaby,Jane?”

“JohnandBarbara,”saidJaneshyly,“haverubberducks!”Maiagaveadelightedsquealandhuggedherself.“Oh,Jane,howwiseyouare!Ishouldneverhavethoughtofthat.Arubber

duckforMerope,please–ablueonewithyelloweyes.”Theassistant tieduptheparcels,whileMaiaranroundhim,pushingat the

paper,givingatugtothestringtomakesurethatitwasfirmlyknotted.“That’sright,”shesaid.“Yousee,Imustn’tdropanything.”Michael,whohadbeenstaringsteadilyathereversinceshefirstappeared,

turnedandsaidinaloudwhispertoMaryPoppins:“Butshehasnopurse.Whowillpayforthetoys?”“Noneofyourbusiness,”snappedMaryPoppins.“Andit’srudetowhisper.”

Butshebegantofumblebusilyinherpocket.“What did you say?” demanded Maia with round, surprised eyes. “Pay?

Nobodywillpay.Thereisnothingtopay–isthere?”SheturnedhershininggazeupontheAssistant.“Nothingatall,madam,”heassuredher,asheputtheparcelsintoherarms

andbowedagain.“I thoughtnot.Yousee,”shesaid, turning toMichael,“thewholepointof

Christmasisthatthingsshouldbegivenaway,isn’tit?Besides,whatcouldIpaywith?Wehavenomoneyupthere.”Andshelaughedatthemeresuggestionofsuchathing.

“Nowwemust go,” shewent on, takingMichael’s arm. “Wemust all gohome.It’sverylate,andIheardyourMothertellingyouthatyoumustbehomeintimefortea.Besides,Imustgetback,too.Come.”AnddrawingMichaelandJaneandMaryPoppinsafterher,she ledthewaythroughtheshopandoutbythespinningdoor.

OutsidetheentranceJanesuddenlysaid:

“Butthere’snopresentforher.She’sboughtsomethingforalltheothersandnothing for herself.Maia has noChristmaspresent.”And shebegan to searchhurriedlythroughtheparcelsshewascarrying, toseewhatshecouldspareforMaia.

Mary Poppins gave a quick glance into the window beside her. She sawherselfshiningbackather,verysmart,veryinteresting,herhatonstraight,hercoatnicelypressedandhernewglovesjustcompletingthewholeeffect.

“Youbequiet,”shesaidtoJaneinhersnappiestvoice.AtthesametimeshewhippedoffhernewglovesandthrustoneontoeachofMaia’shands.

“There!”shesaidgruffly.“It’scoldtoday.You’llbegladofthem.”Maia looked at the gloves, hangingvery large and almost empty uponher

hands.Shesaidnothing,butmovingclosetoMaryPoppinsshereachedupherspare arm and put it roundMary Poppins’ neck and kissed her. A long lookpassed between them, and they smiled as people smile who understand eachother.Maia turned then, andwithher hand lightly touched the cheeksof JaneandMichael. And for a moment they all stood in a ring at the windy cornergazingateachotherasthoughtheywereenchanted.

“I’vebeensohappy,” saidMaiasoftly,breaking thesilence.“Don’t forgetme,willyou?”

Theyshooktheirheads.“Goodbye,”saidMaia.“Goodbye,”saidtheothers,thoughitwasthelastthingtheywantedtosay.ThenMaia,standingpoisedontiptoe,liftedupherarmsandsprangintothe

air.Shebegantostep,climbingeverhigher,asthoughtherewereinvisiblestairscut into the grey sky. Shewaved to them as shewent, and the three of themwavedback.

“Whatonearthishappening?”somebodysaidcloseby.“Butit’snotpossible!”saidanothervoice.“Preposterous!” cried a third. For a crowd was gathering to witness the

extraordinarysightofMaiareturninghome.APolicemanpushedhiswaythroughthethrong,scatteringthepeoplewith

histruncheon.“Naow,naow.Wot’sallthis?ANaccidentorwot?”Helookedup,hisgazefollowingthatoftherestofthecrowd.“’Ere!”he called angrily, shakinghis fist atMaia. “Comedown!Wotyou

doingupthere?’Oldingupthe trafficandall.Comedown!Wecan’t ’ave thiskindofthing–notinapublicplace.’Tisn’tnatural!”

FarawaytheyheardMaialaughingandsawsomethingbrightdanglingfromherarm.Itwastheskipping-rope.Afterall,theparcelhadcomeundone.

Foramomentlongertheysawherprancinguptheairystair,andthenabankofcloudhidherfromtheireyes.Theyknewshewasbehindit,though,becauseofthebrightnessthatshoneaboutitsthickdarkedge.

“Well,I’mjiggered!”saidthePoliceman,staringupwardsandscratchinghisheadunderitshelmet.

“Andwell youmight be!” saidMary Poppins,with such a ferocious snapthat anyone elsemight have thought shewas really crosswith thePoliceman.ButJaneandMichaelwerenottakeninbythatsnap.FortheycouldseeinMaryPoppins’eyessomethingthat,ifshewereanybodyelsebutMaryPoppins,mighthavebeendescribedastears...

“Couldwehave imagined it?” saidMichael,when theygothomeand toldthestorytotheirMother.

“Perhaps,” said Mrs Banks. “We imagine strange and lovely things, mydarling.”

“ButwhataboutMaryPoppins’sgloves?”saidJane.“WesawhergivethemawaytoMaia.Andshe’snotwearingthemnow.So

itmustbetrue!”“What, Mary Poppins!” exclaimed Mrs Banks. “Your best fur-topped

gloves!Yougavethemaway!”MaryPoppinssniffed.“My gloves are my gloves and I do what I like with them!” she said

haughtily.Andshestraightenedherhatandwentdowntothekitchentohavehertea...

ChapterTwelve

WESTWIND

ITWASTHEfirstdayofSpring.JaneandMichaelknewthisatonce,becausetheyheardMrBankssingingin

hisbath,andtherewasonlyonedayintheyearwhenhedidthat.Theyalwaysrememberedthatparticularmorning.Foronething, itwasthe

first time theywereallowed tocomedownstairs forbreakfast, and foranotherMr Banks lost his black bag. So that the day began with two extraordinaryhappenings.

“WhereismyBAG?”shoutedMrBanks,turningroundandroundinthehalllikeadogchasingitstail.

And everybody else began running round and round too – Ellen andMrsBrill and the children. Even Robertson Ay made a special effort and turnedround twice.At lastMrBanksdiscovered thebaghimself inhisstudy,andherushedintothehallwithit,holdingitaloft.

“Now,”hesaid,asthoughheweredeliveringasermon,“mybagisalwayskept in one place.Here.On the umbrella stand.Who put it in the study?” heroared.

“You did, my dear, when you took the Income Tax papers out of it lastnight,”saidMrsBanks.

Mr Banks gave her such a hurt look that she wished she had been lesstactlessandhadsaidshehadputitthereherself.

“Humph –Urrumph!” he said, blowing his nose very hard and taking hisovercoatfromitspeg.Hewalkedwithittothefrontdoor.

“Hullo,”hesaidmorecheerfully,“theParrottulipsareinbud!”Hewentintothe garden and sniffed the air. “H’mwind’s in theWest, I think.”He lookeddowntowardsAdmiralBoom’shousewherethetelescopeweathercockswung.“I thought so,”he said. “Westerlyweather.Bright andbalmy. Iwon’t take anovercoat.”

AndwiththathepickeduphisbagandhisbowlerhatandhurriedawaytotheCity.

“Didyouhearwhathesaid?”MichaelgrabbedJane’sarm.Shenodded.“Thewind’sintheWest,”shesaidslowly.Neitherofthemsaidanymore,buttherewasathoughtineachoftheirminds

thattheywishedwasnotthere.Theyforgotitsoon,however,foreverythingseemedtobeasitalwayswas,

andtheSpringsunlightlitupthehousesobeautifullythatnobodyremembereditneeded a coat of paint and new wallpapers. On the contrary, they all foundthemselvesthinkingthatitwasthebesthouseinCherryTreeLane.

Buttroublebeganafterluncheon.Janehadgonedown todig in thegardenwithRobertsonAy.Shehad just

sownarowofradishseedwhensheheardagreatcommotionintheNurseryandthesoundofhurryingfootstepsonthestairs.PresentlyMichaelappeared,veryredinthefaceandpantingloudly.

“Look, Jane, look!” he cried, and held out his hand. Within it lay MaryPoppins’ compass, with the disc frantically swinging round the arrow as ittrembledinMichael’sshakinghand.

“Thecompass?”saidJane,andlookedathimquestioningly.Michaelsuddenlyburstintotears.“Shegaveit tome,”hewept.“ShesaidIcouldhaveitallformyselfnow.

Oh,oh,theremustbesomethingwrong!Whatisgoingtohappen?Shehasnevergivenmeanythingbefore.”

“Perhapsshewasonlybeingnice,”saidJanetosoothehim,butinherheartshe felt as disturbed asMichael was. She knew verywell thatMary Poppinsneverwastedtimeinbeingnice.

And yet, strange to say, during that afternoonMary Poppins never said acrossword.Indeed,shehardlysaidawordatall.Sheseemedtobethinkingverydeeply,andwhentheyaskedquestionssheansweredtheminafar-awayvoice.AtlastMichaelcouldbearitnolonger.

“Oh,dobecross,MaryPoppins!Dobecrossagain!Itisnotlikeyou.Oh,Ifeel so anxious.” And indeed, his heart felt heavy with the thought thatsomething, he did not quite know what, was about to happen at NumberSeventeen,CherryTreeLane.

“Troubletroubleanditwilltroubleyou!”retortedMaryPoppinscrossly,inherusualvoice.

Andimmediatelyhefeltalittlebetter.“Perhapsit’sonlyafeeling,”hesaidtoJane.“Perhapseverythingisallright

andI’mjustimagining–don’tyouthinkso,Jane?”

“Probably,” said Jane slowly.But shewas thinkinghard andherheart felttightinherbody.

Thewind grewwilder towards evening, and blew in little gusts about thehouse. Itwent pulling andwhistling down the chimneys, slipping through thecracksunderthewindows,turningtheNurserycarpetupatthecorners.

MaryPoppinsgavethemtheirsupperandclearedawaythethings,stackingthemneatlyandmethodically.ThenshetidieduptheNurseryandputthekettleonthehob.

“There!” she said, glancing round the room to see that everythingwas allright.Shewassilent foraminute.Thensheputonehand lightlyonMichael’sheadandtheotheronJane’sshoulder.

“Now,”shesaid,“IamjustgoingtotaketheshoesdownforRobertsonAytoclean.Behaveyourselves,please,tillIcomeback.”Shewentoutandshutthedoorquietlybehindher.

Suddenly,asshewent,theybothfelttheymustrunafterher,butsomethingseemed to stop them. They remained quiet, with their elbows on the tablewaiting for her to come back. Each was trying to reassure the other withoutsayinganything.

“How silly we are,” said Jane presently. “Everything’s all right.” But sheknewshesaiditmoretocomfortMichaelthanbecauseshethoughtitwastrue.

TheNurseryclocktickedloudlyfromthemantelpiece.Thefireflickeredandcrackledandslowlydieddown.Theystillsatthereatthetable,waiting.

At last Michael said uneasily: “She’s been gone a very long time, hasn’tshe?”

Thewindwhistledandcriedaboutthehouseasifinreply.Theclockwentontickingitssolemndoublenote.

Suddenlythesilencewasbrokenbythesoundofthefrontdoorshuttingwithaloudbang.

“Michael!”saidJane,startingup.“Jane!”saidMichael,withawhite,anxiouslookonhisface.Theylistened.Thentheyranquicklytothewindowandlookedout.Downbelow,justoutsidethefrontdoor,stoodMaryPoppins,dressedinher

coatandhat,withhercarpetbaginonehandandherumbrellaintheother.Thewindwasblowingwildlyabouther,tuggingatherskirt,tiltingherhatrakishlytoone side.But it seemed to Jane andMichael that shedidnotmind, for shesmiledasthoughsheandthewindunderstoodeachother.

She paused for amoment on the step and glanced back towards the front

door.Thenwithaquickmovementsheopenedtheumbrella,thoughitwasnotraining,andthrustitoverherhead.

Thewind,withawildcry,slippedundertheumbrella,pressingitupwardsasthoughtryingtoforceitoutofMaryPoppins’hand.Butsheheldontightly,andthat,apparentlywaswhat thewindwantedher todo, forpresently it lifted theumbrellahigher into the air andMaryPoppins from theground. It carriedherlightlysothathertoesjustgrazedalongthegardenpath.ThenitliftedheroverthefrontgateandsweptherupwardstowardsthebranchesofthecherrytreesintheLane.

“She’sgoing,Jane,she’sgoing!”criedMichael,weeping.“Quick!”criedJane.“Letusget theTwins.Theymustseethelastofher.”

Shehadnodoubtnow,norhadMichael,thatMaryPoppinshadgoneforgoodbecausethewindhadchanged.

TheyeachseizedaTwinandrushedbacktothewindow.MaryPoppinswasintheupperairnow,floatingawayoverthecherrytrees

andtheroofsofthehouses,holdingtightlytotheumbrellawithonehandandtothecarpetbagwiththeother.

TheTwinsbegantocryquietly.With their freehands JaneandMichaelopened thewindowandmadeone

lastefforttostayMaryPoppins’flight.“MaryPoppins!”theycried.“MaryPoppins,comeback!”But she either did not hear or deliberately took no notice. For she went

sailingonandon,up into the cloudy,whistling air, till at last shewaswaftedawayoverthehillandthechildrencouldseenothingbutthetreesbendingandmoaningunderthewildwestwind...

“She did what she said she would, anyway. She stayed till the windchanged,”saidJane,sighingandturningsadlyfromthewindow.ShetookJohntohiscotandputhiminto it.Michaelsaidnothing,butashebroughtBarbarabackandtuckedherintobedhewassniffinguncomfortably.

“Iwonder,”saidJane,“ifwe’lleverseeheragain?”Suddenlytheyheardvoicesonthestairs.“Children, children!” Mrs Banks was calling as she opened the door.

“Children–Iamverycross.MaryPoppinshasleftus—”“Yes,”saidJaneandMichael.“Youknew, then?”saidMrsBanks, rathersurprised.“Didshe tellyoushe

wasgoing?”Theyshooktheirheads,andMrsBankswenton:

“It’soutrageous.Oneminutehereandgonethenext.Notevenanapology.Simplysaid,‘I’mgoing!’andoffshewent.Anythingmorepreposterous,morethoughtless,morediscourteous—Whatisit,Michael?”Shebrokeoffcrossly,forMichaelhadgraspedherskirtinhishandsandwasshakingher.

“Whatisit,child?”“Didshesayshe’dcomeback?”hecried,nearlyknockinghisMotherover.

“Tellme–didshe?”“Youwillnot behave like aRed Indian,Michael,” she said, loosening his

hold.“Idon’trememberwhatshesaid,exceptthatshewasgoing.ButIcertainlyshan’thaveherback ifshedoeswant tocome.Leavingmehighanddrywithnobodytohelpmeandwithoutawordofnotice.”

“Oh,Mother!”saidJanereproachfully.“Youareaverycruelwoman,”saidMichael,clenchinghisfistasthoughat

anyminutehewouldhavetostrikeher.“Children! I’mashamedofyou– really I am!Towantbackanybodywho

hastreatedyourMothersobadly.I’mutterlyshocked.”Janeburstintotears.“MaryPoppinsistheonlypersonIwantintheworld!”Michaelwailed,and

flunghimselfontothefloor.“Really,children,really!Idon’tunderstandyou.Dobegood,Ibegofyou.

There’s nobody to look after you tonight. I have to go out to dinner and it’sEllen’s Day Off. I shall have to send Mrs Brill up.” And she kissed themabsentmindedly,andwentawaywithananxiouslittlelineonherforehead...

“Well, ifIeverdid!Hergoingawayandleavingyouporedearchildreninthelurchlikethat,”saidMrsBrill,amomentlater,bustlinginandsettingtoworkonthem.

“Aheartofstone,that’swhatthatgirlhadandnomistake,ormyname’snotClara Brill. Always keeping herself to herself, too, and not even a lacehandkerchief or a hatpin to rememberher by.Get up,will youplease,MasterMichael!”MrsBrillwenton,pantingheavily.

“Howwestoodhersolong,Idon’tknow–withherairsandgracesandall.What a lot ofbuttons,Miss Jane!Stand still donow, and letmeundressyou,MasterMichael.Plainshewas,too,nothingmuchtolookat.Indeed,allthingsconsidered,Idon’tknowthatwewon’tbebetteroff,afterall.Now,MissJane,where’syournightgown–why,what’sthisunderyourpillow—?”

MrsBrillhaddrawnoutasmallnobblyparcel.

“What is it?Give it tome–give it,”saidJane, tremblingwithexcitement,and she took it fromMrsBrill’s hands very quickly.Michael came and stoodnearherandwatchedherundo the stringand tearaway thebrownpaper.MrsBrill, without waiting to see what emerged from the package, went in to theTwins.

ThelastwrappingfelltothefloorandthethingthatwasintheparcellayinJane’shand.

“It’sherpicture,”shesaidinawhisper,lookingcloselyatit.Anditwas!InsidealittlecurlyframewasapaintingofMaryPoppins,andunderneathit

waswritten,“MaryPoppinsbyBert”.“That’stheMatchMan–hedidit,”saidMichael,andtookitinhishandso

thathecouldhaveabetterlook.Jane found suddenly that there was a letter attached to the painting. She

unfoldeditcarefully.Itran:

DEARJANE,Michaelhadthecompasssothepictureisforyou.Aurevoir.

MARYPOPPINS

Shereaditoutloudtillshecametothewordsshecouldn’tunderstand.“MrsBrill!”shecalled.“Whatdoes‘aurevoir’mean?”“Aurevore,dearie?”shriekedMrsBrillfromthenextroom.“Why,doesn’t

itmean–letmesee,I’mnotupintheseforeigntongues–doesn’titmean‘Godbless you’? No. No, I’m wrong. I think, Miss Jane dear, it means ‘ToMeetAgain’.”

JaneandMichaellookedateachother.Joyandunderstandingshoneintheireyes.TheyknewwhatMaryPoppinsmeant.

Michaelgavea longsighof relief.“That’sall right,”hesaidshakily.“Shealwaysdoeswhatshesaysshewill.”Heturnedaway.

“Michael,areyoucrying?”Janeasked.Hetwistedhisheadandtriedtosmileather.“No,Iamnot,”hesaid.“Itisonlymyeyes.”She pushed him gently towards his bed, and as he got in she slipped the

portraitofMaryPoppinsintohishand–hurriedly,incasesheshouldregretit.“Youhaveitfortonight,darling,”whisperedJane,andshetuckedhiminjust

asMaryPoppinsusedtodo...

Contents

Dedication

TheKite

MissAndrew’sLark

BadWednesday

TopsyTurvy

TheNewOne

RobertsonAy’sStory

TheEveningOut

BalloonsandBalloons

Nellie-Rubina

Merry-go-round

ToPIP

thisKeepsake

ChapterOne

THEKITE

ITWASONEof thosemorningswheneverything looksveryneatandbrightandshinyasthoughtheworldhadbeentidiedupovernight.

InCherryTreeLanethehousesblinkedastheirblindswentup,andthethinshadowsof theCherryTrees fell in dark stripes across the sunlight.But therewasnosoundanywhere,exceptforthetinglingoftheIceCreamMan’sbellashewheeledhiscartupanddown.

STOPMEANDBUYONE

said the placard in front of the cart. And presently a Sweep came round thecorneroftheLaneandhelduphisblack,sweepyhand.

TheIceCreamManwenttinglinguptohim.“Pennyone,”saidtheSweep.Andhestoodleaningonhisbundleofbrushes

ashelickedouttheIceCreamwiththetipofhistongue.Whenitwasallgone,hegentlywrappedtheconeinhishandkerchiefandputitinhispocket.

“Don’tyoueatcones?”askedtheIceCreamMan,verysurprised.“No.Icollectthem!”saidtheSweep.Andhepickeduphisbrushesandwent

in through Admiral Boom’s front gate, because there was no Tradesman’sEntrance.

TheIceCreamManwheeledhiscartuptheLaneagainandtingled,andthestripesofshadowandsunlightfellonhimashewent.

“Neverknewitsoquietbefore!”hemurmured,gazingfromrighttoleft,andlookingoutforcustomers.

Atthatverymoment,aloudvoicesoundedfromNumberSeventeen.TheIceCreamMancycledhurriedlyuptothegate,hopingforanorder.

“I won’t stand it! I simply will not stand any more!” shoutedMr Banks,stridingangrilyfromthefrontdoortothefootofthestairsandbackagain.

“What is it?” saidMrsBanks anxiously, hurrying out of theDining-room.“Andwhatisthatyouarekickingupanddownthehall?”

MrBankslungedoutwithhisfootandsomethingblackflewhalfwayupthestairs.

“Myhat!”hesaidbetweenhisteeth.“MyBestBowlerHat!”Heranupthestairsandkickeditdownagain.Itspunforamomentonthe

tilesandfellatMrsBanks’feet.“Isthereanythingwrongwithit?”saidMrsBanksnervously.Buttoherself

shewonderedwhethertherewasnotsomethingwrongwithMrBanks.“Lookandsee!”heroaredather.Trembling,MrsBanks stoopedandpickedup thehat. Itwascoveredwith

large,shiny,stickypatches,andshenoticedithadapeculiarsmell.Shesniffedatthebrim.“Itsmellslikeboot-polish,”shesaid.“It is boot-polish,” retortedMrBanks. “RobertsonAyhas brushedmyhat

withtheboot-brush–infact,hehaspolishedit.”MrsBanks’mouthfellwithhorror.“Idon’tknowwhat’scomeover thishouse!”MrBankswenton.“Nothing

evergoesright–hasn’t forages!Shaving-Water toohot,BreakfastCoffee toocold.Andnow–this!”

HesnatchedhishatfromMrsBanksandcaughtuphisbag.“Iamgoing!”hesaid.“AndIdon’tknowthatIshallevercomeback.Ishall

probablytakealongsea-voyage.”Thenheclappedthehatonhishead,bangedthefrontdoorbehindhimand

wentthroughthegatesoquicklythatheknockedovertheIceCreamMan,whohadbeenlisteningtotheconversationwithinterest.

“It’syourownfault!”saidMrBankscrossly.“You’dnorighttobethere!”AndhewentstridingofftowardstheCity,hispolishedhatshininglikeajewelinthesun.

The Ice Cream Man got up carefully and, finding there were no bonesbroken,hesatdownonthekerbandmadeituptohimselfbyeatingalargeIceCream...

“Oh,dear!”saidMrsBanksassheheardthegateslam.“Itisquitetrue.Nothingdoes go right nowadays. First one thing and then another. Ever since MaryPoppinsleftwithoutaWordofWarningeverythinghasgonewrong.”

Shesatdownatthefootofthestairs,andtookoutherhandkerchiefandcriedintoit.

And,asshecried,shethoughtofallthathadhappenedsincethatdaywhen

MaryPoppinshadsosuddenlyandsostrangelydisappeared.“Here one night and gone the next – most upsetting!” said Mrs Banks,

gulping.Nurse Green had arrived soon after and had left at the end of the week

becauseMichaelhadspatather.ShewasfollowedbyNurseBrown,whowentoutforawalkonedayandnevercameback.Anditwasnotuntillaterthattheydiscoveredthatallthesilverspoonshadgonewithher.

AndafterNurseBrowncameMissQuigley, theGoverness,whohad tobeasked to leavebecausesheplayedscales for threehourseverymorningbeforebreakfast,andMrBanksdidnotcareformusic.

“Andthen,”sobbedMrsBankstoherhandkerchief,“therewasJane’sattackofmeasles, and thebathroomgeyserbursting, and theCherryTrees ruinedbyfrostand...”

“Ifyouplease,m’m!”MrsBanks lookedup to findMrsBrill, thecook,atherside.

“Thekitchenflue’sonfire!”saidMrsBrillgloomily.“Oh, dear.What next?” criedMrsBanks. “Youmust tellRobertsonAy to

putitout.Whereishe?”“Asleep, m’am, in the broom cupboard. And when that boy’s asleep,

nothing’llwakehim–notifit’sanEarthquakeoraregimentofTom-toms!”saidMrsBrill,asshefollowedMrsBanksdownthekitchenstairs.

Betweenthemtheymanagedtoputoutthefire,butthatwasnottheendofMrsBanks’troubles.

ShehadnosoonerfinishedLuncheonthanacrash,followedbyaloudthud,washeardfromupstairs.

“Whatisitnow?”MrsBanksrushedouttoseewhathadhappened.“Oh,myleg,myleg!”criedEllen,thehousemaid.Shesatonthestairs,surroundedbyaringofbrokenchina,groaningloudly.“Whatisthematterwithit?”saidMrsBankssharply.“Broken!”saidEllendismally,leaningagainstthebanisters.“Nonsense,Ellen!You’vesprainedyourankle,that’sall!”ButEllenonlygroanedagain.“Mylegisbroken!WhatshallIdo?”shewailed,overandoveragain.AtthatmomenttheshrillcriesoftheTwinssoundedfromtheNursery.They

were fighting for the possession of a blue celluloidDuck. Their screams rosethinlyabovethevoicesofJaneandMichael,whowerepaintingpicturesonthewallandarguingastowhetheragreenhorseshouldhaveapurpleoraredtail.

Andthroughthisuproartheresounded,likethesteadybeatofadrum,thegroansofEllen,thehousemaid.“Mylegisbroken!WhatshallIdo?”

“This,”saidMrsBanks,rushingupstairs,“istheLastStraw!”ShehelpedEllentobed,andputacoldwaterbandageroundherankle.Then

shewentuptotheNursery.JaneandMichaelrushedather.“Itshouldhavearedtail,shouldn’tit?”demandedMichael.“Oh,Mother,don’tlethimbesostupid!Nohorsehasaredtail,hasit?”“Well,whathorsehasapurpletail?Tellmethat!”hescreamed.“MyDuck!”shriekedJohn,snatchingtheDuckfromBarbara.“Mine,mine,mine!”criedBarbara,snatchingitbackagain.“Children! Children!”Mrs Banks was wringing her hands in despair. “Be

quietorIshallGoMad!”Therewas silence for amoment as they stared at herwith interest.Would

shereally,theywondered?Andwhatwouldshebelike,ifshedid?“Now,”saidMrsBanks,“Iwillnothavethisbehaviour.PoorEllenhashurt

herankle,sothereisnobodytolookafteryou.YoumustallgointotheParkandplay there tillTea-time. Jane andMichael, youmust look after the little ones.John,letBarbarahavetheDucknowandyoucanhaveitwhenyougotobed.Michael,youmaytakeyournewKite.Now,getyourhats,allofyou!”

“ButIwanttofinishmyhorse—”beganMichaelcrossly.“Whymustwe go to the Park?” complained Jane. “There’s nothing to do

there!”“Because,”saidMrsBanks,“Imusthavepeace.Andifyouwillgoquietly

andbegoodchildrentherewillbeCoconutCakesfortea.”Andbefore theyhadtimetobreakoutagain,shehadputontheirhatsand

washurryingthemdownthestairs.“Lookbothways!” she called as theywent through thegate, Janepushing

theTwinsintheperambulatorandMichaelcarryinghisKite.Theylookedtotheright.Therewasnothingcoming.Theylookedtotheleft.TherewasnobodytherebuttheIceCreamMan,who

wasjinglinghisbellattheendoftheLane.Janehurriedacross.Michaeltrailedafterher.“I hate this life!” he said miserably to his Kite. “Everything always goes

wrongalways.”JanepushedtheperambulatorasfarastheLake.“Now,”shesaid,”givemetheDuck!”

TheTwinsshriekedandclutcheditateitherend.Janeuncurledtheirfingers.“Look!” she said, throwing the Duck into the Lake. “Look, darlings, it’s

goingtoIndia!”TheDuckdriftedoffacrossthewater.TheTwinsstaredatitandsobbed.JaneranroundtheLakeandcaughtitandsentitoffagain.“Now,”shesaidbrightly,“it’sofftoSouthampton!”TheTwinsdidnotappeartobeamused.“NowtoNewYork!”Theyweptharderthanever.Janeflungoutherhands.“Michael,whatarewetodowiththem?Ifwegive

theDucktothemthey’llfightoverit,andifwedon’tthey’llgooncrying.”“I’llflytheKiteforthem,”saidMichael.“Look,children,look!”He held up the beautiful green-and-yellow Kite and began to unwind the

string.TheTwinseyedittearfullyandwithoutinterest.HeliftedtheKiteabovehis head and ran a littleway. It flapped along the air for amoment and thencollapsedhollowlyonthegrass.

“Tryagain!”saidJaneencouragingly.“YouholditupwhileIrun,”saidMichael.ThistimetheKiterosealittlehigher.But,asitfloated,itslong,tasselledtail

caught in thebranchesofaLimeTreeand theKitedangled limplyamong theleaves.

TheTwinshowledlustily.“Oh,dear,”saidJane.“Nothinggoesrightnowadays.”“Hullo,hullo,hullo!What’sallthis?”saidavoicebehindthem.TheyturnedandsawtheParkKeeper,lookingverysmartinhisuniformand

peakedcap.Hewasproddingupstraypiecesofpaperwiththesharpendofhiswalking-stick.

JanepointedtotheLimeTree.TheKeeperlookedup.Hisfacebecameverystern.

“Now,now,you’rebreakingtherules!Wedon’tallowLitterhere,youknow–notonthegroundnorinthetreesneither.Thiswon’tdoatall!”

“Itisn’tLitter.It’saKite,”saidMichael.Amild, soft, foolish lookcameover theKeeper’s face.Hewentup to the

LimeTree.“AKite?Soitis.AndIhaven’tflownaKitesinceIwasaboy!”Hesprang

upintothetreeandcamedownholdingtheKitetenderlyunderhisarm.“Now,”hesaidexcitedly,“we’llwindherupandgivehera runandaway

she’llgo!”Heputouthishandforthewinding-stick.

Michaelclutcheditfirmly.“Thankyou,butIwanttoflyitmyself.”“Well,butyou’llletmehelp,won’tyou?”saidtheKeeperhumbly.“Seeing

asIgotitdownandIhaven’tflownaKitesinceIwasaboy.”“Allright,”saidMichael,forhedidn’twanttoseemunkind.“Oh, thankyou, thankyou!” cried theKeeper gratefully. “Now, I take the

Kiteandwalktenpacesdownthegreen.AndwhenIsay‘Go!’yourun!See?”TheKeeperwalkedaway,countinghisstepsoutloud.“Eight,nine,ten.”HeturnedandraisedtheKiteabovehishead.“Go!”Michaelbegantorun.Therewasatugatthestringasthewinding-stickturnedinhishand.“She’safloat!”criedtheKeeper.Michaellookedback.TheKitewassailingthroughtheair,plungingsteadily

upwards.Higherandhigheritdived,atinywispofgreen-and-yellowboundingawayintotheblue.TheKeeper’seyeswerepopping.

“Ineversawsuchakite.NotevenwhenIwasaboy,”hemurmured,staringupwards.

Alightcloudcameupoverthesunandpuffedacrossthesky.“It’scomingtowardstheKite,”saidJaneinanexcitedwhisper.Upandupwentthetossingtail,dartingthroughtheairuntilitseemedbuta

faint, dark speck on the sky. The cloud moved slowly towards it. Nearer,nearer...

“Gone!”saidMichael,asthespeckdisappearedbehindthethingreyscreen.Janegavealittlesigh.TheTwinssatquietlyintheperambulator.Acurious

stillness was upon them all. The taut string running up fromMichael’s handseemed to link them all to the cloud, and the earth to the sky. They waited,holdingtheirbreaths,fortheKitetoappearagain.

SuddenlyJanecouldbearitnolonger.“Michael,”shecried.“Pullitin!Pullitin!”Michael turned the stickandgavea long, strongpull.The string remained

tautandsteady.Hepulledagain,puffingandpanting.“Ican’t,”hesaid.“Itwon’tcome.”“I’llhelp!”saidJane.“Now–pull!”But,hardas they tugged, thestringwouldnotgive,and theKite remained

hiddenbehindthecloud.

“Letme!” said theKeeper importantly. “When Iwas a boywe did it thisway.”

And he put his hand on the string, just above Jane’s, and gave it a short,sharpjerk.Itseemedtogivealittle.

“Now–alltogether–pull!”TheKeeper tossed off his hat, and planting their feet firmly on the grass,

JaneandMichaelpulledwithalltheirmight.“It’scoming!”pantedMichael.Suddenly thestringslackened,andasmallwhirlingshapeshot through the

greycloudandcamefloatingdown.“Windherup!”theKeeperspluttered,glancingatMichael.Butthestringwasalreadywindingroundthestickofitsownaccord.Down,downcametheKite,turningoverandoverintheair,wildlydancing

attheendofthejerkingstring.Janegavealittlegasp.“Something’s happened,” she cried. “That’s not our Kite! It’s quite a

differentone!”Theystared.Itwas quite true. TheKitewas no longer green-and-yellow. It had turned

colourandwasnotnavy-blue.Downitcame,tossingandbounding.SuddenlyMichaelgaveashout.“Jane!Jane!Itisn’taKiteatall.Itlookslike–oh,itlookslike—”“Wind,Michael,windquickly!”gaspedJane.“Icanhardlywait!”Fornow,abovethetallesttrees,theshapeattheendofthestringwasclearly

visible.Therewasnosignofthegreen-and-yellowKite,butinitsplacedancedafigurethatseemedatoncestrangeandfamiliar,afigurewearingabluecoatwithsilverbuttonsandastrawhattrimmedwithdaisies.TuckedunderitsarmwasanUmbrellawith a parrot’s head for a handle, a brown carpet-bag dangled fromonehand,whiletheotherheldfirmlytotheendoftheshorteningstring.

“Ah!”Janegaveashoutoftriumph.“Itisher!”“Iknewit!”criedMichael,hishandstremblingonthewinding-stick.“Lumme!”saidtheParkKeeper,gapingandblinking.“Lumme!”On sailed the curious figure, its feet neatly clearing the tops of the trees.

They could see the face now, and the well-known features – coal-black hair,brightblueeyes,andnoseturnedupwardslikethenoseofaDutchdoll.

As the last length of stringwound itself round the stick, the figure drifteddownbetweentheLimeTreesandalightedprimlyonthegrass.

In a flashMichael dropped the stick. Away he bounded, with Jane at hisheels.

“MaryPoppins,MaryPoppins!”theycried,andflungthemselvesuponher.BehindthemtheTwinswerecrowinglikecocksinthemorning,andthePark

Keeper was opening and shutting his mouth as though he would like to saysomethingbutcouldnotfindthewords.

“Atlast!Atlast!Atlast!”shoutedMichaelwildly,clutchingatherarm,herbag,herumbrella–anythingsolongashemighttouchherandfeelthatshewasreallytrue.

“Weknewyou’dcomeback!Wefoundtheletterthatsaidaurevoir!”criedJane,flingingherarmsroundthewaistoftheblueovercoat.

AsatisfiedsmileflickeredforamomentoverMaryPoppins’face–upfromthemouth,overtheturned-upnose,intotheblueeyes.Butitdiedawayswiftly.

“I’ll thankyoutoremember,”sheremarked,disengagingherselffromtheirhands,“thatthisisaPublicParkandnotaBearGarden.Suchgoingson!ImightaswellbeattheZoo.Andwhere,mayIask,areyourgloves?”

Theyfellback,fumblingintheirpockets.“Humph!Putthemon,please!”Tremblingwithexcitementanddelight,JaneandMichaelstuffedtheirhands

intotheirglovesandputontheirhats.MaryPoppinsmovedtowardstheperambulator.TheTwinscooedhappilyas

shestrappedtheminmoresecurelyandstraightenedtherug.Thensheglancedround.

“Who put that Duck in the pond?” she demanded, in that stern, haughtyvoicetheyknewsowell.

“Idid,”saidJane.“FortheTwins.HewasgoingtoNewYork.”“Well, take him out, then!” saidMary Poppins. “He is not going to New

York–whereverthatis–butHometoTea.”And,slinginghercarpet-bagoverthehandleoftheperambulator,shebegan

topushtheTwinstowardsthegate.TheParkKeeper,suddenlyfindinghisvoice,blockedherway.“See here!” he said, staring. “I shall have to report this. It’s against the

Regulations.Comingdownoutoftheskylikethat.Andwherefrom,I’dliketoknow,wherefrom?”

Hebrokeoff,forMaryPoppinswaseyeinghimupanddowninawaythatmadehimfeelhewouldratherbesomewhereelse.

“IfIwasaParkKeeper,”sheremarkedprimly,“Ishouldputonmycapand

buttonmycoat.Excuseme!”And,haughtilywavinghimaside,shepushedpastwiththeperambulator.Blushing,theKeeperbenttopickuphishat.Whenhelookedupagain,Mary

PoppinsandthechildrenhaddisappearedthroughthegateofNumberSeventeenCherryTreeLane.

He stared at the path. Then he stared up at the sky and down at the pathagain.

Hetookoffhishat,scratchedhishead,andputitonagain.“Ineversawsuchathing!”hesaidshakily.“NotevenwhenIwasaboy.”Andhewentawaymutteringandlookingveryupset...

“Why,it’sMaryPoppins!”saidMrsBanks,astheycameintothehall.“Wheredidyoucomefrom?Outoftheblue?”

“Yes,”beganMichaeljoyfully,“shecamedownontheend—”Hestoppedshort, forMaryPoppinshad fixedhimwithoneofher terrible

looks.“I found them in the Park,ma’am,” she said, turning toMrsBanks, “so I

broughtthemhome!”“Haveyoucometostay,then?”“Forthepresent,ma’am.”“But,Mary Poppins, last time you were here you left without aWord of

Warning.HowdoIknowyouwon’tdoitagain?”“Youdon’t,ma’am,”repliedMaryPoppinscalmly.MrsBankslookedrathertakenaback.“But–butwillyou,doyouthink?”sheaskeduncertainly.“Icouldn’tsay,ma’am,I’msure.”“Oh!” said Mrs Banks, because, at the moment, she couldn’t think of

anythingelse.Andbeforeshehadrecoveredfromhersurprise,MaryPoppinshadtakenher

carpet-bagandwashurryingthechildrenupstairs.MrsBanks, gazing after them, heard theNursery door shut quietly. Then,

withasighofrelief,sherantothetelephone.“MaryPoppinshascomeback!”shesaidhappily,intothereceiver.“Has she, indeed?” saidMr Banks at the other end. “Then perhaps I will

too.”Andherangoff.

Upstairs Mary Poppins was taking off her overcoat. She hung it on a hookbehind theNight-Nurserydoor.Thensheremovedherhatandplaced itneatlyononeofthebed-posts.

Jane and Michael watched the familiar movements. Everything about herwas just as it had always been. They could hardly believe she had ever beenaway.

MaryPoppinsbentdownandopenedthecarpet-bag.ItwasquiteemptyexceptforalargeThermometer.“What’sthatfor?”askedJanecuriously.“You!”saidMaryPoppins.“ButI’mnotill!”Janeprotested.“It’stwomonthssinceIhadmeasles.”“Open!” saidMary Poppins, in a voice thatmade Jane shut her eyes very

quicklyandopenhermouth.TheThermometerslippedin.“Iwant toknowhowyou’vebeenbehavingsince Iwentaway!” remarked

MaryPoppinssternly.ThenshetookouttheThermometerandheldituptothelight.“Careless,ThoughtlessandUntidy,”shereadout.Janestared.“I’m not surprised!” saidMary Poppins, and thrust the Thermometer into

Michael’smouth.Hekepthislipstightlypresseduponituntilshepluckeditoutandread:“AveryNoisy,Mischievous,TroublesomelittleBoy.”

“I’mnot,”hesaidangrily.Foranswershethrust theThermometerunderhisnoseandhespeltout the

largeredletters.“A-V-E-R-Y-N-O-I-S...”“You see?” saidMary Poppins, looking at him triumphantly. She opened

John’smouthandpoppedintheThermometer.“PeevishandExcitable.”ThatwasJohn’stemperature.And, when Barbara’s was taken, Mary Poppins read out the two words,

“ThoroughlySpoilt.”“Humph!”shesnorted.“It’sabouttimeIcameback!”Thenshepoppeditquicklyinherownmouth,leftitthereforamoment,and

tookitout.“A very Excellent and Worthy Person, Thoroughly Reliable in every

Particular.”A pleased and conceited smile lit up her face as she read her temperature

aloud.

“Ithoughtso,”shesaidpriggishly.“Now–TeaandBed!”Itseemed to themnomore thanaminutebefore theyhaddrunk theirmilk

and eaten their Coconut Cakes and were in and out of the bath. As usual,everything thatMaryPoppinsdidhad thespeedofelectricity.Hooksandeyesrushedapart,buttonsdartedeagerlyoutof theirholes,spongeandsoapranupanddownlikelightning,andtowelsdriedwithonerub.

Mary Poppins walked along the row of beds tucking them all in. Herstarchedwhiteaproncrackled,andshesmeltdeliciouslyofnewly-madetoast.

WhenshecametoMichael’sbed,shebentdownandrummagedunderitforaminute.Thenshecarefullydrewouthercampbedsteadwithherpossessionslaiduponitinneatpiles.ThecakeofSunlightsoap,thetoothbrush,thepacketofhairpins, the bottle of scent, the small folding armchair and the box of throatlozenges.Alsothesevenflannelnightgowns,thefourcottonones,theboots,thedominoes,thetwobathingcapsandthepostcardalbum.

JaneandMichaelsatupandstared.“Wheredidtheycomefrom?”demandedMichael.“I’vebeenundermybed

simplyhundredsoftimesandIknowtheyweren’ttherebefore.”MaryPoppinsdidnotreply.Shehadbeguntoundress.Jane andMichael exchanged glances. They knew it was no good asking,

becauseMaryPoppinsneverexplainedanything.Sheslippedoffherstarchedwhitecollarandfumbledattheclipofachain

roundherneck.“What’s inside that?” enquiredMichael, gazing at a small gold locket that

hungontheendofthechain.“Aportrait.”“Whose?”“You’llknowwhenthetimecomes–notbefore!”shesnapped.“Whenwillthetimecome?”“WhenIgo!”Theystaredatherwithstartledeyes.“But,MaryPoppins,”criedJane,“youwon’teverleaveusagain,willyou?

Oh,sayyouwon’t!”MaryPoppinsglaredather.“AnicelifeI’dhave,”sheremarked,“ifIspentallmydayswithyou!”“Butyouwillstay?”persistedJaneeagerly.MaryPoppinstossedthelocketupanddownonherpalm.“I’llstaytillthechainbreaks!”shesaidbriefly.

And, popping a cotton nightgown over her head, she began to undressbeneathit.

“That’sallright,”MichaelwhisperedacrosstoJane.“Inoticedthechainandit’saverystrongone.”

Henoddedtoherreassuringly.TheycurledupintheirbedsandlaywatchingMary Poppins as shemovedmysteriously beneath the tent of her nightgown.AndtheythoughtofherfirstarrivalatCherryTreeLaneandallthestrangeandastonishingthingsthathadhappenedafterwards;ofhowshehadflownawayonherumbrellawhenthewindchanged;ofthelong,wearydayswithoutherandofhermarvellousdescentfromtheskythisafternoon.

SuddenlyMichaelrememberedsomething.“My Kite!” he said, sitting up in bed. “I forgot all about it!Where’s my

Kite?”MaryPoppins’headcameupthroughtheneckofhernightgown.“Kite?”shesaidcrossly.“WhichKite?WhatKite?”“Mygreen-and-yellowKitewiththetassels.Theoneyoucamedownon,at

theendofthestring.”MaryPoppins stared at him.He could not tell if shewasmore astonished

thanangry,butshelookedasifshewasboth.Andhervoicewhenshespokewasworsethanherlook.“DidIunderstandyoutosaythat–”sherepeatedthewordsslowly,between

herteeth–“thatIcamedownfromsomewhereontheendofastring?”“Butyoudid!”falteredMichael.“Today.Outofacloud.Wesawyou!”“On the end of a string. Like aMonkey or a Spinning-Top?Me,Michael

Banks?”MaryPoppins,inherfury,seemedtohavegrowntotwiceherusualsize.She

hoveredoverhiminhernightgown,hugeandangry,waitingforhimtoreply.Heclutchedthebed-clothesforsupport.“Don’tsayanymore,Michael!”Janewhisperedwarninglyacrossfromher

bed.Buthehadgonetoofarnowtostop.“Then–where’smyKite—”hesaidrecklessly.“Ifyoudidn’tcomedown–

er,inthewayIsaid–where’smyKite?It’snotontheendofthestring.”“O-ho?AndIam,Isuppose?”sheenquiredwithascoffinglaugh.Hesawthenthatitwasnogoodgoingon.Hecouldnotexplain.Hewould

havetogiveitup.“N-no,”hesaid,inathinvoice.“No,MaryPoppins.”Sheturnedandsnappedouttheelectriclight.

“Your manners,” she remarked tartly, “have not improved since I wentaway!Ontheendofastring,indeed!Ihaveneverbeensoinsultedinmylife.Never!”

Andwithafurioussweepofherarm,sheturneddownherbedandflouncedintoit,pullingtheblanketsrightoverherhead.

Michaellayveryquiet,stillholdinghisbed-clothestightly.“Shedid,though,didn’tshe?Wesawher,”hewhisperedpresentlytoJane.But Jane did not answer. Instead, she pointed towards the Night-Nursery

door.Michaelliftedhisheadcautiously.Behindthedoor,onahook,hungMaryPoppins’overcoat,itssilverbuttons

gleaming in theglowof thenightlight.And,dangling from thepocket,werearowofpapertassels,thetasselsofagreen-and-yellowKite.

Theygazedatitforalongtime.Thentheynoddedacrosstoeachother.Theyknewtherewasnothingtobe

said, for therewere things aboutMary Poppins theywould never understand.But–shewasbackagain.Thatwasallthatmattered.

The even soundof her breathing came floating across from the campbed.Theyfeltpeacefulandhappyandcomplete.

“Idon’tmind,Jane,ifithasapurpletail,”hissedMichaelpresently.“No,Michael!”saidJane.“Ireallythinkaredwouldbebetter.”After that therewas no sound in theNursery but the soundof five people

breathingveryquietly...

“P-p!P-p!”wentMrBanks’pipe.“Click-click!”wentMrsBanks’knitting-needles.MrBanksputhisfeetuponthestudymantelpieceandsnoredalittle.Afterawhile,MrsBanksspoke.“Doyoustillthinkoftakingalongsea-voyage?”sheasked.“Er–Idon’tthinkso.Iamratherabadsailor.Andmyhat’sallrightnow.I

hadthewholeofitpolishedbytheShoe-Blackatthecorneranditlooksasgoodasnew.Evenbetter.Besides,nowthatMaryPoppinsisback,myShaving-Waterwillbejusttherighttemperature.”

MrsBankssmiledtoherselfandwentonknitting.She felt very glad that Mr Banks was such a bad sailor and that Mary

Poppinshadcomeback...

DownintheKitchen,MrsBrillwasputtingafreshbandageroundEllen’sankle.“I never thoughtmuch of herwhen shewas here,” saidMrs Brill. “But I

mustsaythatthishasbeenadifferenthousesincethisafternoon.AsquietasaSundayandasneatasNinepence.I’mnotsorryshe’sback.”

“NeitheramI,indeed!”saidEllenthankfully.“And neither am I!” thought Robertson Ay, listening to the conversation

throughthewallofthebroomcupboard.“NowIshallhavealittlepeace!”He settledhimself comfortablyon theupturnedcoal-scuttle and fell asleep

againwithhisheadagainstabroom.ButwhatMaryPoppinsthoughtaboutitnobodyeverknew,forshekepther

thoughtstoherselfandnevertoldanyoneanything...

ChapterTwo

MISSANDREW’SLARK

ITWASSATURDAYafternoon.In the hall of Number Seventeen Cherry Tree Lane, Mr Banks was busy

tappingthebarometerandtellingMrsBankswhattheweatherwasgoingtodo.“Moderate Southwind; average temperature: local thunder; sea slight,” he

said.“Furtheroutlookunsettled.Hullo–what’sthat?”Hebrokeoffasabumping,jumping,thumpingnoisesoundedoverhead.Round the bend in the staircase Michael appeared, looking very bad-

temperedand sulkyashebumpedheavilydown.Behindhim,withaTwinoneacharm,cameMaryPoppins,pushingherkneeintohisbackandsendinghimwithasharpthudfromonestairtothenext.Janefollowed,carryingthehats.

“Wellbegunishalfdone.Downyougo,please!”MaryPoppinswassayingtartly.

MrBanksturnedfromthebarometerandlookedupastheyappeared.“Well,what’sthematterwithyou?”hedemanded.“I don’twant to go for awalk! Iwant toplaywithmynewengine!” said

Michael,gulpingasMaryPoppins’kneejerkedhimonestairlower.“Nonsense, darling!” saidMrsBanks. “Of course you do.Walkingmakes

suchlong,stronglegs.”“But I like short legs best,” grumbled Michael, stumbling heavily down

anotherstair.“WhenIwasalittleboy,”saidMrBanks,“Ilovedgoingforwalks.Iusedto

walkwithmyGovernessdowntothesecondlamp-postandbackeveryday.AndInevergrumbled.”

MichaelstoodstillonhisstairandlookeddoubtfullyatMrBanks.“Wereyoueveralittleboy?”hesaid,verysurprised.MrBanksseemedquitehurt.“OfcourseIwas.Asweetlittleboywithlongyellowcurlsandalacecollar

andvelvetbreechesandbutton-upboots.”“Icanhardlybelieveit,”saidMichael,hurryingdownthestairsofhisown

accordandstaringupatMrBanks.“Whatwas the name of yourGoverness?” asked Jane, running downstairs

afterMichael.“Andwasshenice?”“ShewascalledMissAndrew,andshewasaHolyTerror!”“Hush!”saidMrsBanksreproachfully.“Imean–”MrBankscorrectedhimself–“shewas–er–verystrict.And

always right.And she loved putting everybody else in thewrong andmakingthemfeellikeaworm.That’swhatMissAndrewwaslike!”

MrBanksmoppedhisbrowatthemerememoryofhisGoverness.Ting!Ting!Ting!Thefrontdoorbellpealedandechoedthroughthehouse.Mr Banks went to the door and opened it. On the step, looking very

important,stoodtheTelegraphBoy.“Urgent Telegram. Name of Banks. Any answer?” He handed over an

orange-colouredenvelope.“If it’s good news I’ll give you sixpence,” saidMr Banks as he tore the

Telegramopenandreadthemessage.Hisfacegrewpale.“Noanswer!”hesaidshortly.“Andnosixpence?”“Certainly not!” said Mr Banks bitterly. The Telegraph Boy gave him a

reproachfullookandwentsorrowfullyaway.“Oh,whatisit?”askedMrsBanks.“Issomebodyill?”“Worsethanthat!”saidMrBanksmiserably.“Havewe lostallourmoney?”By this timeMrsBanks, too,waspaleand

veryanxious.“Worse still! Didn’t the barometer say thunder? And further outlook

unsettled?Listen!”Hesmoothedoutthetelegramandreadaloud:

Comingtostaywithyouforamonth.Arrivingthisafternoonthreeo’clock.Pleaselightfireinbedroom.

EUPHEMIAANDREW

“Andrew?Why,that’sthesamenameasyourGoverness!”saidJane.“ItismyGoverness!”saidMrBanks,stridingupanddownandrunninghis

handsnervouslythroughwhatwasleftofhishair.“HerothernameisEuphemia.Andshe’scomingtodayatthree!”

Hegroanedloudly.“ButIdon’tcall thatbadnews,”saidMrsBanks, feelingveryrelieved.“It

willmeangettingthespareroomready,ofcourse,butIdon’tmind.Ishalllikehavingthedearoldsoul—”

“Dear old soul!” roaredMr Banks. “You don’t knowwhat you’re talkingabout.Dearold–myJumpingGodfathers,wait tillyouseeher, that’sall.Justwaittillyouseeher!”

Heseizedhishatandwaterproof.“But,mydear!”criedMrsBanks.“Youmustbeheretomeether.Itlooksso

rude.Whereareyougoing?”“Anywhere. Everywhere. Tell her I’m dead!” he replied bitterly. And he

hurriedawayfromthehouselookingverynervousanddepressed.“Mygoodness,Michael,whatcanshebelike?”saidJane.“CuriositykilledtheCat,”saidMaryPoppins.“Putyourhatson,please!”ShesettledtheTwinsintotheperambulatorandpusheditdownthegarden

path.JaneandMichaelfollowedheroutintotheLane.“Wherearewegoingtoday,MaryPoppins?”“Across thePark and along theThirty-Nine bus route, up theHighStreet,

andovertheBridgeandhomethroughtheRailwayArch!”shesnapped.“If we do that, we’ll be walking all night,” whisperedMichael, dropping

behindwithJane.“Andwe’llmissMissAndrew.”“She’sgoingtostayforamonth,”Janeremindedhim.“ButIwanttoseeherarrive,”hecomplained,dragginghisfeetandshuffling

alongthepavement.“Stepalong,please,”saidMaryPoppinsbriskly.“Imightaswellbetakinga

strollwithacoupleofsnailsasyoutwo!”But when they caught up with her she kept them waiting for quite five

minutesoutsideafried-fishshopwhileshelookedatherselfinthewindow.Shewaswearinghernewwhiteblousewiththepinkspots,andherface,as

shebeheldherselfreflectedbackfromthepilesoffriedwhiting,hadapleasedandsatisfiedair.Shepushedbackhercoatalittlesothatmoreoftheblousewasvisible and she thought that, on thewhole, she had never seenMary Poppinslook nicer. Even the fried fish, with their fried tails curled into theirmouths,seemedtogazeatherwithround,admiringeyes.

Mary Poppins gave a little conceited nod to her reflection and hurried on.TheyhadpassedtheHighStreetnowandwerecrossingtheBridge.Soontheycame to theRailwayArch, and Jane andMichael sprang eagerly aheadof the

perambulator and ran all theway until they turned the corner of Cherry TreeLane.

“There’sacab!”criedMichaelexcitedly.“ThatmustbeMissAndrew’s.”They stood still at the corner waiting forMary Poppins and watching for

MissAndrew.ATaxi-cab,movingslowlydowntheLane,drewupatthegateofNumber

Seventeen. It groaned and rattled as the engine stopped. And this was notsurprising, for fromwheel to roof itwas heavilyweightedwith luggage.Youcouldhardly see the cab itself for the trunkson the roof and the trunks at thebackandthetrunksoneitherside.

Suit-casesandhamperscouldbe seenhalf-inandhalf-outof thewindows.Hat-boxeswerestrappedtothesteps,andtwolargeGladstonebagsappearedtobesittingintheDriver’sseat.

Presently the Driver himself emerged from under them. He climbed outcarefully,asthoughheweredescendingasteepmountain,andopenedthedoor.

Aboot-boxcameboundingout,followedbyalargebrown-paperparcel,andafterthesecameanumbrellaandawalking-sticktiedtogetherwithstring.Lastof all, a small weighing-machine clattered down from the rack, knocking theTaxi-manover.

“Becareful!”ahuge,trumpetingvoiceshoutedfrominsidetheTaxi.“Thisisvaluableluggage!”

“AndI’mavaluabledriver!”retortedtheTaxi-man,pickinghimselfupandrubbinghisankle.“Youseento’aveforgottenthat,’aven’tyou?”

“Make way, please, make way! I’m coming out!” called the huge voiceagain.

Andatthatmomentthereappearedonthestepofthecabthelargestfootthechildrenhadeverseen.ItwasfollowedbytherestofMissAndrew.

Alargecoatwithafurcollarwaswrappedabouther,aman’sfelthatwasperchedonherhead,andfromthehat floateda longgreyveil.Withonehandshe held up the folds of her skirt and from the other swung a circular objectcoveredwithacheckedcloth.

Thechildrencreptcautiouslyalongbythefence,gazingwithinterestatthehuge figure, with its beaked nose, grim mouth, and small eyes that peeredangrily from behind glasses. They were almost deafened by her voice as shearguedwiththeTaxi-man.

“Fourand threepence!” shewas saying. “Preposterous! I couldgohalfwayround theworld for that amount. I shan’tpay it.And I shall reportyou to the

Police.”TheTaxi-manshruggedhisshoulders.“That’sthefare,”hesaidcalmly.“If

youcanread,youcanread iton themeter.Youcan’tgodriving inaTaxi forlove,youknow,notwiththisluggage.”

MissAndrewsnortedand,divingherhandintoherlargepocket,tookoutaverysmallpurse.Shehandedoveracoin.TheTaxi-manlookedatitandturnedit over and over in his hand, as if he thought it a curiosity. Then he laughedrudely.

“ThisfortheDriver?”heremarkedsarcastically.“Certainlynot.It’syourfare.Idon’tapproveoftips,”saidMissAndrew.“You wouldn’t!” said the Taxi-man, staring at her. And to himself he

remarked:“Enoughluggagetofill’arfthePark,andshedoesn’tapproveoftips–the’Arpy!”

ButMissAndrewdidnothearhim.Thechildrenhadarrivedatthegateandsheturnedtogreetthem,herfeetringingonthepavementandherveilflowingoutbehindher.

“Well?” she said gruffly, smiling a thin smile. “I don’t supposeyouknowwhoIam?”

“Oh,yeswedo!”saidMichael.Hespokeinhisfriendliestvoice,forhewasverygladtomeetMissAndrew.“You’retheHolyTerror!”

Adark,purpleflushroseupfromMissAndrew’sneckandfloodedherface.“Youareaveryrude,impertinentboy.IshallreportyoutoyourFather!”Michael looked surprised. “I didn’t mean to be rude,” he began. “It was

Daddywhosaid—”“Tut!Silence!Don’tdaretoarguewithme!”saidMissAndrew.Sheturned

toJane.“Andyou’reJane,Isuppose?H’m.Inevercaredforthename.”“Howdoyoudo?”saidJanepolitely,butsecretlythinkingshedidnotcare

muchforthenameEuphemia.“Thatdressismuchtooshort!”trumpetedMissAndrew.“Andyououghtto

bewearingstockings.Littlegirlsinmydayneverhadbarelegs.IshallspeaktoyourMother.”

“Idon’tlikestockings,”saidJane.“IonlywearthemintheWinter.”“Don’t be impudent. Children should be seen and not heard!” said Miss

Andrew.Sheleantovertheperambulator,andwithherhugehandpinchedtheTwins’

cheeksingreeting.

JohnandBarbarabegantocry.“Tut!Whatmanners!” exclaimedMissAndrew. “Brimstone andTreacle –

that’s what they need!” she went on, turning to Mary Poppins. “No well-brought-upchildcrieslikethat.BrimstoneandTreacle.Andplentyofit.Don’tforget.”

“Thankyou,ma’am,” saidMaryPoppins,with icypoliteness, “but I bringthechildrenupinmyownwayandtakeadvicefromnobody.”

MissAndrewstared.Shelookedasifshecouldnotbelieveherears.MaryPoppinsstaredback,calmandunafraid.“Young woman,” said Miss Andrew, drawing herself up, “you forget

yourself. How dare you answer me like that! I shall take steps to have youremovedfromthisestablishment!Markmywords!”

She flung open the gate and strode up the path, furiously swinging thecircular object under the checked cloth, and saying “Tut-tut!” over and overagain.

MrsBankscamerunningouttomeether.“Welcome,MissAndrew,welcome!”shesaidpolitely.“Howkindofyouto

payusavisit.Suchanunexpectedpleasure.Ihopeyouhadagoodjourney?”“Mostunpleasant.Ineverenjoytravelling,”saidMissAndrew.Sheglanced

withanangry,peeringeyeroundthegarden.“Disgracefullyuntidy!”sheremarkeddisgustedly.“Takemyadviceanddig

upthosethings–”shepointedtothesunflowers–“andplantevergreens.Muchlesstrouble.Savestimeandmoney.Andlooksneater.Betterstill,nogardenatall.Justaplain,cementcourtyard.”

“But,”protestedMrsBanksgently,“Ilikeflowersbest!”“Ridiculous!Stuffandnonsense!Youareasillywoman.Andyourchildren

areveryrude–especiallytheboy.”“Oh,Michael, Iam surprised!Wereyou rude toMissAndrew?Youmust

apologiseatonce.”MrsBankswasgettingverynervousandflustered.“No,Mother, Iwasn’t. I only—”Hebegan to explain,butMissAndrew’s

loudvoiceinterrupted.“Hewasmost insulting,”sheinsisted.“Hemustgotoaboarding-schoolat

once.AndthegirlmusthaveaGoverness.Ishallchooseonemyself.Andasfortheyoungpersonyouhavelookingafterthem–”shenoddedinthedirectionofMaryPoppins,“youmustdismissherthisinstant.Sheisimpertinent,incapableandtotallyunreliable.”

MrsBankswasplainlyhorrified.

“Oh, surely you are mistaken, Miss Andrew! We think she is such aTreasure.”

“Youknownothingaboutit.Iamnevermistaken.Dismissher!”MissAndrewsweptonupthepath.MrsBankshurriedbehindher,lookingveryworriedandupset.“I–er–hopeweshallbeabletomakeyoucomfortable,MissAndrew,”she

saidpolitely.Butshewasbeginningtofeelratherdoubtful.“H’m. It’s not much of a house,” replied Miss Andrew. “And it’s in a

shockingcondition–peelingeverywhere,andmostdilapidated.Youmustsendforacarpenter.Andwhenwerethesestepswhite-washed?They’reverydirty.”

Mrs Banks bit her lip. Miss Andrew was turning her lovely, comfortablehouseintosomethingmeanandshabby,anditmadeherfeelveryunhappy.

“I’llhavethemdonetomorrow,”shesaidmeekly.“Whynottoday?”demandedMissAndrew.“Notimelikethepresent.And

whypaintyourdoorwhite?Darkbrown– that’s thepropercolour for adoor.Cheaper,anddoesn’tshowthedirt.Justlookatthosespots!”

Andputtingdownthecircularobject,shebegantopointoutthemarksonthefrontdoor.

“There!There!There!Everywhere!Mostdisreputable!”“I’ll see to it immediately,” said Mrs Banks faintly. “Won’t you come

upstairsnowtoyourroom?”MissAndrewstampedintothehallafterher.“Ihopethereisafireinit.”“Oh,yes.Agoodone.Thisway,MissAndrew.RobertsonAywillbringup

yourluggage.”“Well,tellhimtobecareful.Thetrunksarefullofmedicinebottles.Ihave

totakecareofmyhealth!”MissAndrewmovedtowardsthestairs.Sheglancedroundthehall.“Thiswall needs re-papering. I shall speak toGeorge about it.Andwhy I

shouldliketoknow,wasn’theheretomeetme?Veryrudeofhim.Hismanners,Isee,havenotimproved!”

ThevoicegrewalittlefainterasMissAndrewfollowedMrsBanksupstairs.FarawaythechildrencouldheartheirMother’sgentlevoice,meeklyagreeingtodowhateverMissAndrewwished.

MichaelturnedtoJane.“WhoisGeorge?”heasked.“Daddy.”

“ButhisnameisMrBanks.”“Yes,buthisothernameisGeorge.”Michaelsighed.“Amonthisanawfullylongtime,Jane,isn’tit?”“Yes – four weeks and a bit,” said Jane, feeling that a month with Miss

Andrewwouldseemmorelikeayear.Michaeledgedclosertoher.“Isay–”hebeganinananxiouswhisper,“shecan’treallymakethemsend

MaryPoppinsaway,canshe?”“Odd!”Thewordsoundedbehindthemlikeanexplosion.Theyturned.MaryPoppinswasgazingafterMissAndrewwithalookthat

couldhavekilledher.“Odd!”sherepeated,withalong-drawnsniff.“That’snotthewordforher.

Humph! I don’t know how to bring up children, don’t I? I’m impertinent,incapable,andtotallyunreliable,amI?We’llseeaboutthat!”

JaneandMichaelwereused to threats fromMaryPoppins,but today therewas a note in her voice they had never heard before. They stared at her insilence,wonderingwhatwasgoingtohappen.

Atinysound,partlyasighandpartlyawhisper,fellontheair.“Whatwasthat?”saidJanequickly.The sound came again, a little louder this time.Mary Poppins cocked her

headandlistened.Againafaintchirpingseemedtocomefromthedoorstep.“Ah!”criedMaryPoppinstriumphantly.“Imighthaveknownit!”Andwithasuddenmovement,shesprangatthecircularobjectMissAndrew

hadleftbehindandtweakedoffthecover.Beneathitwasabrassbird-cage,veryneatandshiny.Andsittingatoneend

of the perch, huddled between his wings, was a small, light-brown bird. Heblinked a little as the afternoon light streamed down upon his head. Then hegazed solemnly about himwith a round, dark eye.His glance fell uponMaryPoppins, and,with a start of recognition, he opened his beak and gave a sad,throaty,littlecheep.JaneandMichaelhadneverheardsuchamiserablesound.

“Didshe,indeed?Tch,tchtch!Youdon’tsay!”saidMaryPoppins,noddingherheadsympathetically.

“Chirp-irrup!”saidthebird,shruggingitswingsdejectedly.“What?Twoyears?Inthatcage?Shameonher!”saidMaryPoppinstothe

bird,herfaceflushingwithanger.Thechildrenstared.Thebirdwasspeaking inno language theyknew,and

yetherewasMaryPoppinscarryingonanintelligentconversationwithhimasthoughsheunderstood.

“Whatisitsaying—”Michaelbegan.“Sh!”saidJane,pinchinghisarmtomakehimkeepquiet.Theystaredatthebirdinsilence.Presentlyhehoppedalittlewayalongthe

perchtowardsMaryPoppinsandsanganoteortwoinalow,questioningvoice.MaryPoppinsnodded.“Yes–ofcourse Iknow that field.Was thatwhere

shecaughtyou?”Thebirdnodded.Thenhe sangaquick, trillingphrase that sounded like a

question.MaryPoppinsthoughtforamoment.“Well,”shesaid,“it’snotveryfar.You

coulddoitinaboutanhour.FlyingSouthfromhere.”The bird seemed pleased. He danced a little on his perch and flapped his

wingsexcitedly.Thenhissongbrokeoutagain,astreamofround,clearnotes,ashelookedimploringlyatMaryPoppins.

Sheturnedherheadandglancedcautiouslyupthestairs.“Will I?Whatdoyou think?Didn’tyouhearhercallmeaYoungPerson?

Me!”Shesniffeddisgustedly.Thebird’sshouldersshookasthoughhewerelaughing.MaryPoppinsbentdown.“Whatareyougoingtodo,MaryPoppins?”criedMichael,unabletocontain

himselfanylonger.“Whatkindofabirdisthat?”“ALark,” saidMaryPoppins briefly, turning the handle of the little door.

“You’reseeingaLarkinacageforthefirsttime–andthelast!”Andasshesaidthat,thedoorofthecageswungopen.TheLark,flappinghis

wings,swoopedoutwithashrillcryandalightedonMaryPoppins’shoulder.“Humph!” she said, turning her head. “That’s an improvement, I should

think?”“Chirr-up!”agreedtheLark,nodding.“Well,you’dbetterbeoff,”MaryPoppinswarnedhim.“She’llbebackina

minute.”AtthattheLarkburstintoastreamofrunningnotes,flickinghiswingsather

andbowinghisheadagainandagain.“There,there!”saidMaryPoppinsgruffly.“Don’tthankme.Iwasgladtodo

it.Icouldn’tseeaLarkinacage!Besides,youheardwhatshecalledme!”

The Lark tossed back his head and fluttered his wings. He seemed to belaughingheartily.Thenhecockedhisheadtoonesideandlistened.

“Oh,Iquiteforgot!”camealoudvoicefromupstairs.“IleftCarusooutside.Onthosedirtysteps.Imustgoandgethim.”

MissAndrew’sheavy-footedtreadsoundedonthestairs.“What?”shecalledbackinreplytosomequestionofMrsBanks.“Oh,he’s

myLark,myLark,Caruso!Icallhimthatbecauseheusedtobesuchabeautifulsinger.What?No,hedoesn’tsingatallnow,notsinceItrappedhiminafieldandputhiminacage.Ican’tthinkwhy.”

Thevoicewascomingnearer,growinglouderasitapproached.“Certainly not!” it called back to Mrs Banks. “I will fetch him myself. I

wouldn’t trust one of those impudent children with him. Your banisters wantpolishing.Theyshouldbedoneatonce.”

Tramp-tramp.Tramp-tramp.MissAndrew’sstepssoundedthroughthehall.“Here she comes!”hissedMaryPoppins. “Beoffwithyou.”Shegaveher

shoulderalittleshake.“Quickly!”criedMichaelanxiously.“Oh,hurry!”saidJane.With a quickmovement the Lark bent his head and pulled out one of his

wingfeatherswithhisbeak.“Chirr-chirr-chirr-irrup!”he sang, and stuck the feather into the ribbonof

MaryPoppins’hat.Thenhespreadhiswingsandsweptintotheair.AtthesamemomentMissAndrewappearedinthedoorway.“What?”sheshouted,whenshesawJaneandMichaelandtheTwins.“Not

gone up to bed yet? This will never do. All well-brought-up children –” shelookedbalefully atMaryPoppins – “should be in bed by five o’clock. I shallcertainlyspeaktoyourFather.”

Sheglancedround.“Now, letme see.Where did I leavemy—”She broke off suddenly. The

uncoveredcage,with itsopendoor, stoodather feet.Shestareddownat it asthoughshewereunabletobelievehereyes.

“Why?When?Where?What?Who?”shespluttered.Thenshefoundherfullvoice.

“Who took off that cover?” she thundered. The children trembled at thesound.

“Whoopenedthatcage?”Therewasnoreply.

“WhereismyLark?”StilltherewassilenceasMissAndrewstaredfromonechildtoanother.At

lasthergazefellaccusinglyuponMaryPoppins.“Youdidit!”shecried,pointingherlargefinger.“Icantellbythelookon

yourface!Howdareyou!Ishallseethatyouleavethishousetonight–bagandbaggage!Youimpudent,impertinent,worthless—”

Chirp-irrup!Fromtheaircamealittletrilloflaughter.MissAndrewlookedup.TheLark

waslightlybalancingonhiswingsjustabovethesunflowers.“Ah,Caruso–thereyouare!”criedMissAndrew.“Nowcomealong!Don’t

keepmewaiting.Comebacktoyournice,cleancage,Caruso,andletmeshutthedoor!”

But theLark just hung in the air andwent into peals of laughter, flingingbackhisheadandclappinghiswingsagainsthisside.

MissAndrewbentandpickedupthecageandhelditaboveherhead.“Caruso–whatdidIsay?Comebackatonce!”shecommanded,swinging

the cage towards him. But he swooped past it and brushed against MaryPoppins’hat.

“Chirp-irrup!”hesaid,ashespedby.“Allright!”saidMaryPoppins,noddinginreply.“Caruso,didyouhearme?”criedMissAndrew.Butnowtherewasahintof

dismayinherloudvoice.SheputdownthecageandtriedtocatchtheLarkwithherhands.Buthedodgedand flickeredpasther, and,witha liftofhiswings,divedhigherintotheair.

AbabbleofnotesstreameddowntoMaryPoppins.“Ready!”shecalledback.Andthenastrangethinghappened.Mary Poppins fixed her eyes upon Miss Andrew; and Miss Andrew,

suddenlyspellboundbythatstrangedarkgaze,begantotrembleonherfeet.Shegavealittlegasp,staggereduncertainlyforwardand,withathunderingrush,shedashed towards thecage.Then–was it thatMissAndrewgrewsmalleror thecagelarger?JaneandMichaelcouldnotbesure.AlltheyknewforcertainwasthatthecagedoorshuttowithalittleclickandcloseduponMissAndrew.

“Oh!Oh!Oh!”shecried,astheLarkswoopeddownandseizedthecagebythehandle.

“WhatamIdoing?WhereamIgoing?”MissAndrewshoutedas thecagesweptintotheair.

“Ihavenoroomtomove!Icanhardlybreathe!”shecried.“Neithercouldhe!”saidMaryPoppinsquietly.MissAndrewrattledatthebarsofthecage.“Openthedoor!Letmeout,Isay!Letmeout!”“Humph!Notlikely,”saidMaryPoppinsinalow,scoffingvoice.OnandonwenttheLark,climbinghigherandhigherandsingingashewent.

And the heavy cage, withMiss Andrew inside it, lurched after him, swayingdangerouslyasitswungfromhisclaw.

AbovetheclearsongoftheLark,theyheardMissAndrewhammeringatthebarsandcrying:

“IwhowasWell-Brought-Up. IwhowasAlwaysRight. IwhowasNeverMistaken.ThatIshouldcometothis!”

MaryPoppinsgaveacurious,quietlittlelaugh.TheLarklookedverysmallnow,butstillhecircledupwards,singingloudly

andtriumphantly.AndstillMissAndrewandhercagecircledheavilyafterhim,rockingfromsidetoside,likeashipinastorm.

“Letmeout,Isay!Letmeout!”Hervoicecamescreamingdown.Suddenly theLarkchangedhisdirection.Hissongceasedforamomentas

hedartedsideways.Thenitbeganagain,wildandclear,as,shakingtheringofthecagefromhisfoot,heflewtowardstheSouth.

“He’soff!”saidMaryPoppins.“Where?”criedJaneandMichael.“Home–tohismeadows!”shereplied,gazingupwards.“Buthe’sdroppedthecage!”saidMichael,staring.Andwellhemightstare,forthecagewasnowhurtlingdownwards,lurching

andtumbling,endoverend.TheycouldclearlyseeMissAndrew,nowstandingonherheadandnowonherfeetasthecageturnedthroughtheair.Down,down,itcame,heavyasastone,andlandedwithaploponthetopstep.

Withafiercemovement,MissAndrewtoreopenthedoor.AnditseemedtoJaneandMichaelasshecameoutthatshewasaslargeaseverandevenmorefrightening.

Foramomentshestoodthere,panting,unabletospeak,herfacepurplerthanbefore.

“Howdareyou!”shesaidinathroatywhisper,pointingatremblingfingeratMaryPoppins.And JaneandMichael saw thather eyeswereno longer angryandscornful,butfullofterror.

“You–you—”stammeredMissAndrewhuskily,“youcruel,disrespectful,

unkind,wicked,wilfulgirl–howcouldyou,howcouldyou?”Mary Poppins fixed her with a look. From half-closed eyes, she gazed

revengefullyatMissAndrewforalongmoment.“YousaidIdidn’tknowhowtobringupchildren,”shesaid,speakingslowly

anddistinctly.MissAndrewshrankback,tremblingwithfear.“I–Iapologise,”shesaid,gulping.“ThatIwasimprudent,incapableandtotallyunreliable,”saidMaryPoppins.“Itwasamistake.I–I’msorry,”MissAndrewstammered.“ThatIwasaYoungPerson!”continuedMaryPoppinsremorselessly.“I take it back,” panted Miss Andrew. “All of it. Only let me go. I ask

nothingmore.”SheclaspedherhandsandgazedatMaryPoppinsimploringly.“Ican’tstayhere,”shewhispered.“No!No!Nothere!Letmego!”Mary Poppins gazed at her, long and thoughtfully. Then, with a little

outwardmovementofherhand–“Go!”shesaid.Miss Andrew gave a gasp of relief. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Still

keeping her eyes fixed onMary Poppins, she staggered backwards down thesteps.Thensheturnedandwentstumblingunevenlydownthegardenpath.

The Taxi-man, who all this time had been unloading the luggage, wasstartinguphisengineandpreparingtodepart.

MissAndrewheldupatremblinghand.“Wait!”shecriedbrokenly.“Waitforme.YoushallhaveaTen-shillingnote

foryourselfifyouwilldrivemeawayatonce.”Themanstaredather.“Imeanit!”shesaidurgently.“See,”shefumbledfeverishlyinherpocket,

“hereitis.Takeit–anddriveon!”MissAndrewtotteredintothecabandcollapsedupontheseat.TheTaxi-man,stillgaping,closedthedooruponher.Then he began hurriedly re-loading the luggage. Robertson Ay had fallen

asleepacross apileof trunks,but theTaxi-mandidnot stop towakehim.Heswepthimoffontothepathandfinishedtheworkhimself.

“Looksasthoughthe’olegirl’as’adashock!Ineversawanybodytakeonso.Never!”hemurmuredtohimselfashedroveoff.

ButwhatkindofashockitwastheTaxi-mandidnotknowand,ifhelivedtobeahundred,couldnotpossiblyguess...

“WhereisMissAndrew?”saidMrsBanks,hurryingtothefrontdoorinsearch

ofthevisitor.“Gone!”saidMichael.“Whatdoyoumean–gone?”MrsBankslookedverysurprised.“Shedidn’tseemtowanttostay,”saidJane.MrsBanksfrowned.“Whatdoesthismean,MaryPoppins?”shedemanded.“I couldn’t say,m’m, I’m sure,” saidMaryPoppins calmly, as though the

matterdidnot interesther.Sheglanceddownathernewblouseandsmoothedoutacrease.

MrsBankslookedfromonetotheotherandshookherhead.“Howveryextraordinary!Ican’tunderstandit.”Justthenthegardengateopenedandshutwithaquietlittleclick.MrBanks

came tip-toeingup thepath.Hehesitatedandwaitednervouslyonone footastheyallturnedtowardshim.

“Well?Hasshecome?”hesaidanxiously,inaloudwhisper.“Shehascomeandgone,”saidMrsBanks.MrBanksstared.“Gone?Doyoumean–reallygone?MissAndrew?”MrsBanksnodded.“Oh, joy, joy!”criedMrBanks.Andseizingtheskirtsofhiswaterproof in

bothhands,heproceededtodancetheHighlandFlinginthemiddleofthepath.Hestoppedsuddenly.

“Buthow?When?Why?”heasked.“Justnow–inataxi.Becausethechildrenwererudetoher,Isuppose.She

complainedtomeaboutthem.Isimplycan’tthinkofanyotherreason.Canyou,MaryPoppins?”

“No, m’m, I can’t,” saidMary Poppins, brushing a speck of dust off herblousewithgreatcare.

MrBanksturnedtoJaneandMichaelwithasorrowfullookonhisface.“Youwere rude toMissAndrew?MyGoverness?Thatdearoldsoul? I’m

ashamedofyouboth–thoroughlyashamed.”Hespokesternly,buttherewasalaughingtwinkleinhiseyes.

“I’m a most unfortunate man,” he went on, putting his hands into hispockets. “Here am I slavingday-in andday-out tobringyouupproperly, andhow do you repay me? By being rude to Miss Andrew! It’s shameful. It’soutrageous! I don’t know that I shall ever be able to forgive you. But –” hecontinued,takingtwosixpencesoutofhispocketandsolemnlyofferingoneto

eachofthem–“Ishalldomybesttoforget!”Heturnedawaysmiling.“Hullo!” he remarked, stumbling against the bird-cage. “Where did this

comefrom?Whoseisit?”JaneandMichaelandMaryPoppinsweresilent.“Well, nevermind,” saidMrBanks. “It’smine now. I shall keep it in the

gardenandtrainmysweetpeasoverit.”Andhewentoff,carryingthebird-cageandwhistlingveryhappily...

“Well,”saidMaryPoppinssternly,asshefollowedthemintotheNursery,“thisisnicegoingson,Imustsay.YoubehavingsorudelytoyourFather’sguest.”

“But we weren’t rude!” Michael protested. “I only said she was a HolyTerrorandhecalledherthathimself.”

“Sendingherawaylikethatwhenshe’donlyjustcome–don’tyoucallthatrude?”demandedMaryPoppins.

“Butwedidn’t,”saidJane.“Itwasyou—”“Iwas rude toyourFather’sguest?”MaryPoppins,withherhandsonher

hips,eyedJanefuriously.“Doyoudaretostandthereandtellmethat?”“No,no!Youweren’trude,but—”“Ishould thinknot, indeed!”retortedMaryPoppins, takingoffherhatand

unfolding her apron, “I was properly brought up!” she added sniffing, as shebegantoundresstheTwins.

Michaelsighed.HeknewitwasnousearguingwithMaryPoppins.HeglancedatJane.Shewasturninghersixpenceoverandoverinherhand.“Michael!”shesaid.“I’vebeenthinking.”“What?”“DaddygaveusthesebecausehethoughtwesentMissAndrewaway.”“Iknow.”“Andwedidn’t.ItwasMaryPoppins!”Michaelshuffledhisfeet.“Then you think—” he began uneasily, hoping she didn’t mean what he

thoughtshemeant.“Yes,Ido,”saidJane,nodding.“But–butIwantedtospendmine.”“SodoI.Butitwouldn’tbefair.They’rehers,really.”Michaelthoughtaboutitforalongtime.Thenhesighed.“Allright,”hesaidregretfully,andtookhissixpenceoutofhispocket.

TheywenttogethertoMaryPoppins.Janeheldoutthecoins.“Hereyouare!”shesaidbreathlessly,”wethinkyoushouldhavethem.MaryPoppinstookthesixpencesandturnedthemoverandoveronherpalm

–headsfirstandthentails.Thenhereyecaughttheirsanditseemedtothemthatherlookplungedrightdowninsidethemandsawwhattheywerethinking.Foralongtimeshestoodthere,staringdownintotheirthoughts.

“Humph!” she said at last, slipping the sixpences into her apron pocket.“Takecareofthepenniesandthepoundswilltakecareofthemselves.”

“I expect you’ll find them very useful,” saidMichael, gazing sadly at thepocket.

“IexpectIshall,”sheretortedtartly,asshewenttoturnonthebath...

ChapterThree

BADWEDNESDAY

TICK-TACK!Tick-tock!ThependulumoftheNurseryclockswungbackwardsandforwardslikean

oldladynoddingherhead.Tick-tack!Tick-tock!Thentheclockstoppedtickingandbegantowhirandgrowl,quietlyatfirst,

and thenmore loudly,as though itwere inpain.Andas itwhirred itshooksoviolently that the whole mantelpiece trembled. The empty Marmalade Jarhoppedandshookandshivered;John’shair-brush,leftthereover-night,dancedon its bristles; the RoyalDoultonBowl thatMrsBanks’Great-Aunt CarolinehadgivenherasaChristeningPresentslippedsideways,sothat thethreelittleboyswhowereplayinghorsesinsideitstoodontheirpaintedheads.

Andafterallthat,justwhenitseemedasiftheclockmustburst,itbegantostrike.

One!Two!Three!Four!Five!Six!Seven!OnthelaststrokeJanewokeup.The sun was streaming through a gap in the curtains and falling in gold

stripesuponherquilt.JanesatupandlookedroundtheNursery.NosoundcamefromMichael’s bed. The Twins in their cots were sucking their thumbs andbreathingdeeply.

“I’mtheonlyoneawake,”shesaid,feelingverypleased.“Icanliehereallbymyselfandthinkandthinkandthink.”

Andshedrewherkneesuptoherchinandcurledintothebedasthoughsheweresettlingdownintoanest.

“NowIamabird!”shesaidtoherself.“Ihavejustlaidsevenlovelywhiteeggs,andIamsittingwithmywingsoverthem,brooding.Cluck-cluck!Cluck-cluck!”

Shemadeasmall,broodynoiseinherthroat.“Andaftera long time,sayhalfanhour, therewillbea littlecheep,anda

little tapand theshellswillcrack.Then,outwillpopseven littlechicks, three

yellow,twobrown,andtwo—”“Timetogetup!”Mary Poppins, appearing suddenly from nowhere, tweaked the bedclothes

fromJane’sshoulders.“Oh,no,no!”grumbledJane,pullingthemupagain.ShefeltverycrosswithMaryPoppinsforrushinginandspoilingeverything.“Idon’twanttogetup!”shesaid,turningherfaceintothepillow.“Oh, indeed?” Mary Poppins said calmly, as though the remark had no

interest for her. She pulled the bedclothes right off the bed and Jane foundherselfstandingonthefloor.

“Oh,dear,”shegrumbled,“whydoIalwayshavetogetupfirst?”“You’re the eldest – that’s why!” Mary Poppins pushed her towards the

bathroom.“But I don’t want to be the eldest. Why can’t Michael be the eldest

sometimes?”“Becauseyouwerebornfirst–see?”“Well,Ididn’tasktobe.I’mtiredofbeingbornfirst.Iwantedtothink.”“Youcanthinkwhenyou’rebrushingyourteeth.”“Notthesamethoughts.”“Well,nobodywantstothinkthesamethoughtsallthetime.”“Ido.”MaryPoppinsgaveheraquick,blacklook.“That’senough,thankyou!”And,fromthetoneofhervoice,Janeknewshe

meantwhatshesaid.MaryPoppinshurriedawaytowakeMichael.Janeputdownhertoothbrushandsatontheedgeofthebath.“It’s not fair,” she grumbled, kicking the linoleumwith her toes. “Making

medoallthehorridthingsjustbecauseI’mtheeldest!Iwon’tbrushmyteeth!”Immediately she felt surprised at herself. Shewas usually quite glad to be

older thanMichael and the Twins. Itmade her feel rather superior andmuchmoreimportant.Buttoday–whatwasthematterwithtodaythatshefeltsocrossandpeevish?

“IfMichaelhadbeenbornfirstI’dhavehadtimetohatchoutmyeggs!”shegrumbledtoherself,feelingthatthedayhadbegunbadly.

Unfortunately,insteadofgettingbetter,itgrewworse.Atbreakfast,MaryPoppinsdiscovered therewasonlyenoughPuffedRice

forthree.

“Well,JanemusthavePorridge,”shesaid,settingouttheplatesandsniffingangrily,forshedidnotlikemakingPorridge;therewerealwaystoomanylumpsinit.

“Butwhy?”complainedJane.“IwantPuffedRice.”MaryPoppinsdartedafiercelookather.“Becauseyou’retheeldest!”Thereitwasagain.Thathatefulword.Shekickedthelegofherchairunder

the table, hoping she was scratching off the varnish, and ate her Porridge asslowlyasshedared.Sheturneditroundandroundinhermouth,swallowingaslittle as possible. Itwould serve everybody right if she starved to death.Thenthey’dbesorry.

“What is today?” enquiredMichael cheerfully, scraping up the last of hisPuffedRice.

“Wednesday,”saidMaryPoppins.“Leavethepatternontheplate,please!”“Thenit’stodaywe’regoingtoteawithMissLark!”“If you’regood,” saidMaryPoppinsdarkly, as though shedidnot believe

suchathingwaspossible.ButMichaelwasinacheerfulmood,andtooknonotice.“Wednesday!”he shouted,banginghis spoonon the table. “That’s theday

Janewasborn.Wednesday’sChild is fullofWoe.That’swhyshehas tohavePorridgeinsteadofRice!”hesaidnaughtily.

Janefrownedandkickedathimunderthetable.Butheswunghislegsasideandlaughed.

“Monday’s Child is Fair of Face, Tuesday’s Child is Full of Grace!” hechanted.“That’struetoo.TheTwinsarefullofgrace,andtheywerebornonaTuesday.AndI’mMonday–FairofFace.”

Janelaughedscornfully.“I am,” he insisted. “I heard Mrs Brill say so. She told Ellen I was as

handsomeasHalf-a-crown.”“Well,that’snotveryhandsome,”saidJane.“Besides,yournoseturnsup.”Michaellookedatherreproachfully.AndagainJanefeltsurprisedatherself.

Atanyother timeshewouldhaveagreedwithhim, for she thoughtMichaelaverygood-lookinglittleboy.Butnowshesaidcruelly:“Yes,andyourtoesturnin.Bandy-legs!Bandy-legs!”

Michaelrushedather.“Thatwillbeenoughfromyou!”saidMaryPoppins,lookingangrilyatJane.

“Andifanybodyinthishouseisabeauty,it’s—”Shepaused,andglancedwith

asatisfiedsmileatherownreflectioninthemirror.“Who?”demandedMichaelandJanetogether.“NobodyofthenameofBanks!”retortedMaryPoppins.“Sothere!”Michael looked across at Jane ashe alwaysdidwhenMaryPoppinsmade

oneofhercuriousremarks.But, thoughshefelthis look,shepretendednot tonotice.Sheturnedawayandtookherpaint-boxfromthetoycupboard.

“Won’tyouplaytrains?”askedMichael,tryingtobefriendly.“No,Iwon’t.Iwanttobebymyself.”“Well,darlings,andhowareyouallthismorning?”MrsBankscamerunningintotheroomandkissedthemhurriedly.Shewas

alwayssobusythatsheneverhadtimetowalk.“Michael,” she said, “you must have some new slippers – your toes are

comingout at the top.MaryPoppins, John’s curlswillhave to comeoff, I’mafraid.Barbara,my pet, don’t suck your thumb! Jane, run downstairs and askMrsBrillnottoicethePlumCake,Iwantaplainone.”

Theretheywereagain,Janesaidtoherself,breakingintoherday!Assoonasshebegantodoanythingtheymadeherstopanddosomethingelse.

“Oh,Mother,mustI?Whycan’tMichael?”MrsBankslookedsurprised.“ButIthoughtyoulikedhelping!AndMichaelalwaysforgetsthemessage.

Besides,you’retheeldest.Runalong!”Shewentdownstairsasslowlyasshecould.Shehopedshewouldbesolate

withthemessagethatMrsBrillwouldhavealreadyicedthecake.Andallthetimeshefeltastonishedatthewayshewasbehaving.Itwasasif

therewasanotherpersoninsideher–somebodywithaverybadtemperandanuglyface–whowasmakingherfeelcross.

ShegavethemessagetoMrsBrill,andwasdisappointedtofindthatshewasinplentyoftime.

“Well,that’llsaveapenn’orthoftrouble,anyway,”MrsBrillremarked.“And,Dearie,”shewenton,“youmightjustslipoutintothegardenandtell

thatRobertsonhehasn’tdonetheknives.Mylegsarebad,andthey’remyonlypair.”

“Ican’t.I’mbusy.”ItwasMrsBrill’sturntolooksurprised.“Ah,beakindgirl,then–it’sallIcandotostand,letalonewalk!”Janesighed.Whycouldn’ttheyleaveheralone?Shekickedthekitchendoor

shutanddawdledoutintothegarden.

RobertsonAywasasleeponthepathwithhisheadonthewatering-can.Hislankhair roseandfellashesnored. ItwasRobertsonAy’sspecialgift thathecouldsleepanywhere,andatanytime.Infact,hepreferredsleepingtowaking.Andusually,whenevertheycould,JaneandMichaelpreventedhimfrombeingfoundout.Buttodayitwasdifferent.Thebad-temperedpersoninsideherdidn’tcareabitwhathappenedtoRobertsonAy.

“Ihateeverybody!”shesaid,andrappedsharplyonthewatering-can.RobertsonAysatupwithastart.“Help!Murder!Fire!”hecried,wavinghisarmswildly.ThenherubbedhiseyesandsawJane.“Oh,it’sonlyyou!”hesaid,inadisappointedvoice,asthoughhehadhoped

forsomethingmoreexciting.“You’retogoanddotheknives,atonce,”sheordered.RobertsonAygotslowlytohisfeetandshookhimself.“Ah,”hesaidsadly,“it’salwayssomething.Ifit’snotonething,it’sanother.

Ioughttoberesting.Inevergetamoment’speace.”“Yes,youdo!”saidJanecruelly.“Yougetnothingbutpeace.You’realways

asleep.”A hurt, reproachful look came overRobertsonAy’s face and at any other

timeitwouldhavemadeherfeelashamed.Buttodayshewasn’tabitsorry.“Sayingsuchthings!”saidRobertsonAysadly.“Andyoutheeldestandall.

Iwouldn’thavethoughtit–notifI’ddonenothingbutthinkfortherestofmylife.”

Andhegaveherasorrowfulglanceandshuffledslowlyawaytothekitchen.Shewondered if hewould ever forgive her.And, as if in reply, the sulky

creatureinsidehersaid,“Idon’tcareifhedoesn’t!”She tossed her head and went slowly back to the Nursery, dragging her

stickyhandsalongthefresh,clean,whitewallbecauseshehadalwaysbeentoldnotto.

MaryPoppinswasflickingherfeather-dusterroundthefurniture.“Offtoafuneral?”sheenquired,asJaneappeared.Janelookedsulkyanddidnotanswer.“Iknowsomebodywho’slookingforTrouble.Andhethatseeksshallfind!”“Idon’tcare!”“Don’tCarewasmadetocare!Don’tCarewashung!”jeeredMaryPoppins,

puttingthedusteraway.“Andnow–”shelookedwarninglyatJane–“Iamgoingtohavemydinner.

Youaretolookafterthelittleones,andifIhearOneWord–”Shedidnotfinishthesentence,butshegavealong,threateningsniffasshewentoutoftheroom.

JohnandBarbara ran toJaneandcaughtherhands.Butsheuncurled theirfingersandcrosslypushedthemaway.

“IwishIwereanonlychild!”shesaidbitterly.“Why don’t you run away?” suggested Michael. “Somebody might adopt

you.”Janelookedup,startledandsurprised.“Butyou’dmissme!”“No, Iwouldn’t,”he said stoutly. “Not ifyou’realwaysgoing tobecross.

Besides,thenIcouldhaveyourpaint-box.”“No,youcouldn’t,”shesaidjealously.“I’dtakeitwithme.”Andjusttoshowhimthatthepaint-boxwashersandnothis,shegotoutthe

brushesandthepaintingbookandspreadthemonthefloor.“Painttheclock,”saidMichaelhelpfully.“No.”“Well,theRoyalDoultonBowl.”Janeglancedup.The three littleboyswere racingover the field inside thegreen rimof the

bowl.Atanyothertimeshewouldhavelikedtopaintthem,buttodayshewasnotgoingtobepleasantorobliging.

“Iwon’t.IwillpaintwhatIwant.”Andshebegan tomakeapictureofherself,quitealone,broodingoverher

eggs.MichaelandJohnandBarbarasatonthefloor,watching.Janewassointerestedinhereggsthatshealmostforgotherbadtemper.Michaelleantforward.“Whynotputinahen–justthere!”Hepointedtoasparewhitepatch,brushingagainstJohnwithhisarm.Over

went John, falling sideways andupsetting the cupwith his foot.The colouredwatersplashedoutandfloodedthepicture.

Withacry,Janesprangtoherfeet.“Oh,Ican’tbearit.YougreatClumsy!You’vespoilteverything!”And,rushingatMichael,shepunchedhimsoviolentlythathe,too,toppled

overandcrasheddownontopofJohn.Asquealofpainandterrorbrokefromthe Twins, and above their cries rose Michael’s voice wailing, “My head isbroken!WhatshallIdo?Myheadisbroken!”overandoveragain.

“Idon’tcare!Idon’tcare!”shoutedJane.“Youwouldn’tleavemealoneand

you’vespoiltmypicture.Ihateyou,Ihate—”Thedoorburstopen.MaryPoppinssurveyedthescenewithfuriouseyes.“WhatdidIsaytoyou?”sheenquiredofJaneinavoicesoquietthatitwas

terrible. “That if I heardOneWord– andnow lookwhat I find!Anicepartyyou’ll haveatMissLark’s, Idon’t think.Notone stepwillyougooutof thisroomthisafternoon,orI’maChinaman.”

“Idon’twanttogo.I’dratherstayhere.”Janeputherhandsbehindherbackandsaunteredaway.Shedidnotfeelabitsorry.

“Verygood.”MaryPoppins’voicewasgentle,buttherewassomethingveryfrighteningin

it.Jane watched her dressing the others for the party. And, when they were

ready,MaryPoppinstookherbesthatoutofabrown-paperbagandsetitonherheadataverysmartangle.Sheclippedheroldlocketroundherneck,andoveritshewound the red-and-white checked scarfMrsBanks had given her.At oneend was stitched a white label marked with a largeM.P., andMary Poppinssmiledatherreflectioninthemirrorasshetuckedthelabeloutofsight.

Then she took her parrot-handled umbrella from the cupboard, popped itunderherarm,andhurriedthelittleonesdownthestairs.

“Nowyou’llhavetimetothink!”sheremarkedtartly,and,withaloudsniff,shutthedoorbehindher.

ForalongtimeJanesatstaringinfrontofher.Shetriedtothinkaboutherseveneggs.Butsomehowtheydidn’tinterestheranymore.

What were they doing now, at Miss Lark’s, she wondered? Playing withMissLark’sdogs,perhaps,andlisteningtoMissLarktellingthemthatAndrewhadawonderfulpedigree,butthatWilloughbywashalfanAiredaleandhalfaRetriever, and theworst half of both. And presently theywould all, even thedogs,haveChocolateBiscuitsandWalnutCakefortea.

“Oh,dear!”ThethoughtofallshewasmissingstirredangrilyinsideJane,andwhenshe

remembereditwasallherownfaultshefeltcrosserthanever.Tick-tack!Tick-tock!saidtheclockloudly.“Oh,bequiet!”criedJanefuriously,andpickingupherpaint-box,shehurled

itacrosstheroom.It crashed against the glass face of the clock and, glancing off, clattered

downupontheRoyalDoultonBowl.

Crrrrrrrack!TheBowltoppledsidewaysagainsttheclock.Oh!Oh!Whathadshedone?Janeshuthereyes,notdaringtolookandsee.“Isay–thathurt!”Aclear,reproachfulvoicesoundedintheroom.“Jane!”saidthevoice.“Thatwasmyknee!”Sheturnedherheadquickly.Therewasnobodyintheroom.Sherantothedoorandopenedit.Stillnobody!Thensomebodylaughed.“Here,Silly!”saidthevoiceagain.“Uphere!”She lookedup at themantelpiece.Beside the clock lay theRoyalDoulton

Bowlwithalargecrackrunningrightacrossitand,tohersurprise,Janesawthatoneof thepaintedboyshaddropped thereinsandwasbendingdown,holdinghis kneewith both hands. The other two had turned andwere looking at himsympathetically.

“But—”beganJane,halftoherselfandhalftotheunknownvoice,“Idon’tunderstand.”TheboyintheBowlliftedhisheadandsmiledather.

“Don’t you? No, I suppose you don’t. I’ve noticed that you andMichaeloftendon’tunderstandthesimplestthings–dothey?”

Heturned,laughing,tohisbrothers.“No,”saidoneofthem,“notevenhowtokeeptheTwinsquiet!”“Nor the properway to draw birds’ eggs – she’smade them allwriggly,”

saidtheother.“HowdoyouknowabouttheTwins–andtheeggs?”saidJane,flushing.“Gracious!”saidthefirstboy.“Youdon’tthinkwecouldhavewatchedyou

allthistimewithoutknowingeverythingthathappensinthisroom!Wecan’tseeintothenightnursery,ofcourse,orthebathroom.Whatcolouredtileshasit?”

“Pink,”saidJane.“Ourshasblue-and-white.Wouldyouliketoseeit?”Janehesitated.Shehardlyknewwhattoreply,shewassoastonished.“Do come!William and Everardwill be your horses, if you like, and I’ll

carrythewhipandrunalongside.I’mValentine,incaseyoudon’tknow.We’reTriplets.And,ofcourse,there’sChristina.”

“Where’sChristina?” Jane searched theBowl.But she sawonly the greenmeadow and a little wood of alders, and Valentine, William and Everardstandingtogether.

“Come and see!” saidValentine persuasively, holding out his hand. “Why

shouldtheothershaveallthefun?Youcomewithus–intotheBowl!”Thatdecidedher.ShewouldshowMichaelthatheandtheTwinswerenot

theonlyoneswhocouldgotoaparty.Shewouldmakethemjealousandsorryfortreatinghersobadly.

“Allright,”shesaid,puttingoutherhand,”I’llcome!”Valentine’s hand closed round herwrist and pulled her towards theBowl.

And suddenly, shewas no longer in the coolDayNursery, but out in awide,sunlitmeadow,andinsteadoftheraggednurserycarpet,aspringingturfofgrassanddaisieswasspreadbeneathherfeet.

“Hooray!” cried Valentine, William and Everard, dancing round her. ShenoticedthatValentinewaslimping.

“Oh,”saidJane,”Iforgot!Yourknee!”Hesmiledather.“Nevermind.Itwasthecrackthatdidit.Iknowyoudidn’t

meantohurtme!”Janetookoutherhandkerchiefandbounditroundhisknee.“That’sbetter!”hesaidpolitely,andputthereinsintoherhand.William and Everard, tossing their heads and snorting, flew across the

meadowwithJanejinglingthereinsbehindthem.Beside her, one foot heavy and one foot light, because of his knee, ran

Valentine.And,asheran,hesang:

“Mylove,thouartanosegaysweet,MysweetestflowerIprovethee;

AndpleasedIpintheetomybreast,AnddearlyIdolovethee!”

WilliamandEverard’svoicescameinwiththechorus:

“Anddeeeee–arlyIdolo-o-vethee!”

Janethoughtitwasratheranold-fashionedsong,butthen,everythingabouttheTripletswasold-fashioned– their longhair, theirstrangeclothes,andtheirpolitewayofspeaking.

“It isodd!”she thought toherself,butshealso thought that thiswasbetterthanbeingatMissLark’s,andthatMichaelwouldenvyherwhenshetoldhimallaboutit.

On ran the horses, tugging Jane after them, drawing her away from theNursery.

Presently shepulledup,panting, and lookedbackover the tracks theyhadmadeinthegrass.Behindher,attheothersideofthemeadow,shecouldseetheouterrimoftheBowl.Itseemedsmallandveryfaraway.Andsomethinginsideherwarnedherthatitwastimetoturnback.

“Imustgonow,”shesaid,droppingthejinglingreins.“Oh,no,no!”criedtheTriplets,closingroundher.Andnowsomethingintheirvoicesmadeherfeeluneasy.“They’llmissmeathome.I’mafraidImustgo,”shesaidquickly.“It’squiteearly!”protestedValentine.“They’llstillbeatMissLark’s.Come

on.I’llshowyoumypaint-box.”Janewastempted.“HasitgotChineseWhite?”sheenquired,forChineseWhitewasjustwhat

herownpaint-boxlacked.“Yes,inasilvertube.Come!”Against her will Jane allowed him to draw her onwards. She thought she

would justhaveone lookat thepaint-boxand thenhurryback.Shewouldnotevenasktobeallowedtouseit.

“Butwhereisyourhouse?Itisn’tintheBowl!”“Of course it is!But you can’t see it because it’s behind thewood.Come

on!”They were drawing her now under dark alder boughs. The dead leaves

crackledundertheirfeetandeverynowandthenapigeonswoopedfrombranchtobranchwithaloudclappingofwings.WilliamshowedJanearobin’snestinapileof twigs, andEverardbrokeoff a sprayof leavesand twined it roundherhead.But,inspiteoftheirfriendliness,Janewasshyandnervousandfeltverygladwhentheyreachedtheendofthewood.

“Hereitis!”saidValentine,wavinghishand.Andshesawrisingbeforeherahugestonehousecoveredwith ivy.Itwas

older than any house she had ever seen and it seemed to lean towards herthreateningly.Oneithersideofthestepsastonelioncrouched,asifwaitingforthemomenttospring.

Janeshiveredastheshadowofthehousefelluponher.“Ican’tstaylong,”shesaiduneasily.“It’sgettinglate.”“Justfiveminutes!”pleadedValentine,drawingherintothehall.Theirfeetranghollowlyonthestonefloor.Therewasnosignofanyhuman

being. Except for herself and the Triplets, the house seemed deserted.A coldwindsweptwhistlingalongthecorridor.

“Christina!Christina!“calledValentine,pullingJaneupthestairs.“Heresheis!”

His crywent echoing round thehouse and everywall seemed to call backfrighteningly.“Heresheis!”

There was a sound of running feet and a door burst open. A little girl,slightly taller than theTriplets anddressed in anold-fashioned, flowerydress,rushedoutandflungherselfuponJane.

“Atlast,atlast!”shecriedtriumphantly.“Theboyshavebeenwatchingyouforages!Buttheycouldn’tcatchyoubefore–youwerealwayssohappy!”

“Catchme?”saidJane.“Idon’tunderstand.”Shewas beginning to be frightened and towish she had never comewith

ValentineintotheBowl.“Great-Grandfather will explain,” said Christina, laughing curiously. She

drewJaneacrossthelandingandthroughthedoor.“Heh!Heh!Heh!What’sthis?”demandedathin,crackedvoice.JanestaredanddrewbackagainstChristina.Foratthefarendoftheroom,

onaseatbythefire,satafigurethatfilledherwithterror.Thefirelightflickeredover a veryoldman, soold that he lookedmore like a shadow than a humanbeing.Fromhis thinmoutha thingreybeard straggledand, thoughheworeasmoking-cap,Janecouldseethathewasasbaldasanegg.Hewasdressedinalong, old-fashioned dressing-gown of faded silk, and a pair of embroideredslippershungonhisthinfeet.

“So!” said the shadowy figure, taking a long curved pipe fromhismouth.“Janehasarrivedatlast.”

Heroseandcametowardshersmilingfrighteningly,hiseyesburningintheirsocketswithabrightsteelyfire.

“Shecame through thealderwoodwith theboys,Great-Grandfather,” saidChristina.

“Ah?Howdidtheycatchher?”“Shewascrossatbeingtheeldest.Soshe threwherpaint-boxat theBowl

andcrackedVal’sknee.”“So!”thehorribleoldvoicewhistled.“Itwastemper,wasit?Well,well—”

Helaughedthinly.“Nowyou’llbetheyoungest,mydear!MyyoungestGreat-Granddaughter.ButIshan’tallowanytempershere!Heh!Heh!Heh!Oh,dear,no.Well,comealongandsitbythefire.WillyoutakeTeaorCherry–Wine?”

“No,no!”Janeburstout.“I’mafraidthere’sbeenamistake.Imustgohomenow.IliveatNumberSeventeenCherryTreeLane.”

“Usedto,youmean,”correctedValtriumphantly.“Youliveherenow.”“Butyoudon’tunderstand!”Janesaiddesperately.“Idon’twanttolivehere.

Iwanttogohome.”“Nonsense!” croaked the Great-Grandfather. “Number Seventeen is a

horrible place,mean and stuffy andmodern. Besides, you’re not happy there.Heh!Heh!Heh!Iknowwhatit’slikebeingtheeldest–alltheworkandnoneofthefun.Heh!Heh!Buthere–”hewavedhispipe–“hereyou’llbe theSpoiltOne,theDarling,theTreasure,andnevergobackanymore!”

“Never!”echoedWilliamandEverard,dancingroundher.“Oh,Imust.Iwill!”Janecried,thetearsspringingtohereyes.TheGreat-Grandfathersmiledhishorrible,toothlesssmile.“Do you thinkwewill let you go?” he enquired. “You cracked our bowl.

You must take the consequences. Besides, you owe us something. You hurtValentine’sknee.”

“Iwillmakeuptohim.Iwillgivehimmypaint-box.”“Hehasone.”“Myhoop.”“Hehasout-grownhoops.”“Well—”falteredJane.“IwillmarryhimwhenIgrowup.”TheGreat-Grandfathercackledwithlaughter.JaneturnedimploringlytoValentine.Heshookhishead.“I’mafraidit’stoolateforthat,”hesaidsadly.“Igrewuplongago.”“Thenwhy, thenwhat – oh, I don’t understand.Where am I?” cried Jane,

gazingaboutherinterror.“Farfromhome,mychild,farfromhome,”croakedtheGreat-Grandfather.

“YouarebackinthePast–backwhereChristinaandtheboyswereyoungsixtyyearsago!”

ThroughhertearsJanesawhisoldeyesburningfiercely.“Then–howcanIgethome?”shewhispered.“Youcannot.Youwill stayhere.There isnootherplace foryou.Youare

back in the Past, remember! The Twins and Michael, even your Father andMother, arenotyetborn;NumberSeventeen isnot evenbuilt.Youcannotgohome!”

“No, no!” cried Jane. “It’s not true! It can’t be.”Her heartwas thumpinginsideher.NevertoseeMichaelagain,northeTwins,norherFatherandMother

andMaryPoppins!Andsuddenlyshebegan toshout, liftinghervoiceso that itechoedwildly

throughthestonecorridors.“Mary Poppins! I’m sorry I was cross! Oh,Mary Poppins, help me, help

me!”“Quick!Holdherclose!Surroundher!”SheheardtheGreat-Grandfather’ssharpcommand.Shefeltthefourchildren

pressingcloseabouther.Sheshuthereyestight.“MaryPoppins!”shecriedagain,“MaryPoppins!”AhandcaughthersandpulledherawayfromthecirclingarmsofChristina,

Valentine,WilliamandEverard.“Heh!Heh!Heh!”TheGreat-Grandfather’scacklinglaughechoedthroughtheroom.Thegrasp

onherhandtightenedandshefeltherselfbeingdrawnaway.Shedarednotlookfor fear of those frightening eyes, but she pulled fiercely against the tugginghand.

“Heh!Heh!Heh!”The laughsoundedagainand thehanddrewheron,downstone stairs and

echoingcorridors.She had no hope now.Behind her the voices ofChristina and theTriplets

fadedaway.Nohelpwouldcomefromthem.Shestumbleddesperatelyaftertheflyingfootstepsandfelt,thoughhereyes

wereclosed,darkshadowsaboveherheadanddampearthunderherfoot.Whatwashappening toher?Where,oh,wherewasshegoing? Ifonlyshe

hadn’tbeensocross–ifonly!The strong hand pulled her onwards and presently she felt the warmth of

sunlight on her cheeks and sharp grass scratched her legs as shewas draggedalong.Then,suddenly,apairofarms,likebandsofiron,closedabouther,liftedherupandswungherthroughtheair.

“Oh, help, help!” she cried, frantically twisting and turning against thosearms. Shewould not give inwithout a struggle, shewould kick and kick andkickand...

“I’llthankyoutoremember,”saidafamiliarvoiceinherear,“thatthisismybestskirtandithastolastmetheSummer!”

Janeopenedhereyes.Apairoffierceblueeyeslookedsteadilyintohers.Thearms that foldedhersocloselywereMaryPoppins’armsand the legs

shewaskickingsofuriouslywerethelegsofMaryPoppins.

“Oh!” she faltered. “It was you! I thought you hadn’t heard me, MaryPoppins!IthoughtIshouldbekeptthereforever.Ithought—”

“Somepeople,” remarkedMaryPoppins,puttinghergentlydown,“thinkagreatdealtoomuch.OfthatI’msure.Wipeyourface,please!”

She thrust her blue handkerchief into Jane’s and began to get theNurseryreadyfortheevening.

Jane watched her, drying her tear-stained face on the large bluehandkerchief.Sheglancedround thewell-knownroom.Therewere the raggedcarpetandthetoycupboardandMaryPoppins’armchair.At thesightof themshe felt safe andwarm and comforted. She listened to the familiar sounds asMary Poppins went about her work, and her terror died away. A tide ofhappinesssweptoverher.

“Itcouldn’thavebeen Iwhowascross,”shesaid toherself.“Itmusthavebeensomebodyelse.”

AndshesattherewonderingwhotheSomebodywas...

“Butitcan’treallyhavehappened!”scoffedMichaelalittlelaterwhenheheardofJane’sadventure.“You’remuchtoobigfortheBowl.”

Shethoughtforamoment.Somehow,asshetoldthestory,itdidseemratherimpossible.

“Isupposeitcan’t,”sheadmitted.“Butitseemedquiterealatthetime.”“Iexpectyoujustthoughtit.You’realwaysthinkingthings.”Hefeltrather

superiorbecauseheneverthoughtatall.“You two and your thoughts!” said Mary Poppins crossly, pushing them

asideasshedumpedtheTwinsintotheircots.“And now,” she snapped, when John and Barbara were safely tucked in,

“perhapsIshallhaveamomenttomyself.”Shetookthepinsoutofherhatandthrustitbackintoitsbrown-paperbag.

Sheunclippedthelocketandputitcarefullyawayinadrawer.Thensheslippedoffhercoat,shookitout,andhungitonthepegbehindthedoor.

“Why,where’syournewscarf?”saidJane.“Haveyoulostit?”“Shecouldn’thave!”saidMichael.“Shehad itonwhenshecamehome. I

sawit.”MaryPoppinsturnedonthem.“Begoodenoughtomindyourownaffairs,”shesaidsnappily,“andletme

mindmine!”“Ionlywantedtohelp—”Janebegan.

“Icanhelpmyself,thankyou!”saidMaryPoppins,sniffing.Jane turned to exchange lookswithMichael. But this time it was hewho

tooknotice.Hewasstaringatthemantelpieceasifhecouldnotbelievehiseyes.“Whatisit,Michael?”“Youdidn’tjustthinkit,afterall!”hewhispered,pointing.Janelookedupat themantelpiece.TherelaytheRoyalDoultonBowlwith

thecrackrunningrightacrossit.Therewerethemeadowgrassesandthewoodofalders.And therewere the three littleboysplayinghorses, two in frontandonerunningbehindwiththewhip.

But–around the legof thedriverwasknottedasmall,whitehandkerchiefand,sprawlingacrossthegrass,asthoughsomeonehaddroppeditastheyran,wasared-and-whitecheckedscarf.Atoneendof itwasstitcheda largewhitelabelbearingtheinitials:M.P.

“Sothat’swhereshelostit!”saidMichael,noddinghisheadwisely.“Shallwetellherwe’vefoundit?”

Janeglancedround.MaryPoppinswasbuttoningonherapronandlookingasifthewholeworldhadinsultedher.

“Betternot,”shesaidsoftly.“Iexpectsheknows.”For a moment Jane stood there, gazing at the cracked Bowl, the knotted

handkerchiefandthescarf.Thenwith awild rush she ran across the roomand flungherself upon the

starchedwhitefigure.“Oh,”shecried.“Oh,MaryPoppins!I’llneverbenaughtyagain!”Afaint,disbelievingsmiletwinkledatthecornersofMaryPoppins’mouth

asshesmoothedoutthecreasesfromherapron.“Humph!”wasallshesaid.

ChapterFour

TOPSYTURVY

“KEEP CLOSE TOme, please!” saidMary Poppins, stepping out of theBus andputtingupherumbrella,foritwasrainingheavily.

JaneandMichaelscrambledoutafterher.“If I keep close to you the drips fromyour umbrella run downmyneck,”

complainedMichael.“Don’t blame me, then, if you get lost and have to ask a Policeman!”

snappedMaryPoppins,assheneatlyavoidedapuddle.She paused outside theChemist’s shop at the corner so that she could see

herself reflected in the three gigantic bottles in the window. She could see aGreenMaryPoppins,aBlueMaryPoppinsandaRedMaryPoppinsallatonce.And each one of them was carrying a brand-new leather handbag with brassknobsonit.

MaryPoppinslookedatherselfinthethreebottlesandsmiledapleasedandsatisfied smile. She spent someminutes changing the handbag from her righthand toher left, trying it in everypossibleposition to seehow it lookedbest.Then she decided that, after all, it wasmost effectivewhen tucked under herarm.Sosheleftitthere.

JaneandMichaelstoodbesideher,notdaringtosayanythingbutglancingacrossateachotherandsighinginsidethemselves.Andfromtwopointsofherparrot-handledumbrellatheraintrickleduncomfortablydownthebacksoftheirnecks.

“Now then – don’t keepmewaiting!” saidMary Poppins crossly, turningaway from the Green, Blue and Red reflections of herself. Jane andMichaelexchangedglances.JanesignalledtoMichaeltokeepquiet.Sheshookherheadandmadeafaceathim.Butheburstout:

“Weweren’t.Itwasyoukeepinguswaiting—!”“Silence!”Michael didnot dare to say anymore.He and Jane trudged along, oneon

eithersideofMaryPoppins.Therainpoureddown,dancingfromthetopofthe

umbrellaon to theirhats.UnderherarmJanecarried theRoyalDoultonBowlwrappedcarefullyintwopiecesofpaper.TheyweretakingittoMaryPoppins’cousin,MrTurvy,whosebusiness,shetoldMrsBanks,wasmendingthings.

“Well,” Mrs Banks had said, rather doubtfully, “I hope he will do itsatisfactorily, for until it ismended I shall not be able to lookmyGreat-AuntCarolineintheface.”

Great-AuntCaroline had givenMrsBanks the bowlwhenMrsBankswasonly three, and itwaswell known that if itwere brokenGreat-AuntCarolinewouldmakeoneofherfamousscenes.

“Members ofmy family,ma’am,”MaryPoppins had retortedwith a sniff,“alwaysgivesatisfaction.”

And shehad looked so fierce thatMrsBanks felt quiteuncomfortable andhadtositdownandringforacupoftea.

Swish!TherewasJane,rightinthemiddleofapuddle.“Look where you’re going, please!” snapped Mary Poppins, shaking her

umbrella and tossing thedripsover JaneandMichael. “This rain is enough tobreakyourheart.”

“Ifitdid,couldMrTurvymendit?”enquiredMichael.HewasinterestedtoknowifMrTurvycouldmendallbrokenthingsoronlycertainkinds.

“Onemoreword,”saidMaryPoppins,”andBackHomeyougo!”“Ionlyasked,”saidMichaelsulkily.“Thendon’t!”MaryPoppins,withanangrysniff,turnedthecornersmartlyand,openingan

oldirongate,knockedatthedoorofasmalltumble-downbuilding.“Tap-tap-tappity-tap!” The sound of the knocker echoed hollowly through

thehouse.“Oh,dear,”JanewhisperedtoMichael,”howawfulifhe’sout!”Butatthatmomentheavyfootstepswereheardtrampingtowardsthem,and

withaloudrattlethedooropened.Around,red-facedwoman,lookingmoreliketwoapplesplacedoneontop

of the other than a human being, stood in the doorway.Her straight hairwasscrapedintoaknobat thetopofherhead,andher thinmouthhadacrossandpeevishexpression.

“Well!”shesaid,staring.“It’syouorI’maDutchman!”She did not seemparticularly pleased to seeMaryPoppins.Nor didMary

Poppinsseemparticularlypleasedtoseeher.

“IsMrTurvy in?”sheenquired,without takinganynoticeof thewoman’sremark.

“Well,”saidtheroundwomaninanunfriendlyvoice,“Iwouldn’tbecertain.Hemaybeorhemaynot.It’sallamatterofhowyouhappentolookatit.”

MaryPoppinssteppedthroughthedoorandpeeredabouther.“That’shishat,isn’tit,”shedemanded,pointingtoanoldfelthatthathung

onapeginthehall.“Well, it is, of course – in a manner of speaking.” The round woman

admittedthefactunwillingly.“Thenhe’sin,”saidMaryPoppins.“Nomemberofmyfamilyevergoesout

withoutahat.They’remuchtoorespectable.”“Well,allIcantellyouiswhathesaidtomethismorning,”saidtheround

woman.“‘MissTartlet,’hesaid,’ImaybeinthisafternoonandImaynot.Itisquiteimpossibletotell.’That’swhathesaid.Butyou’dbettergoupandseeforyourself.I’mnotaMountaineer.”

Theroundwomanglanceddownatherroundbodyandshookherhead.JaneandMichaelcouldeasilyunderstandthatapersonofhersizeandshapewouldnotwanttoclimbMrTurvy’snarrow,ricketystairsveryoften.

MaryPoppinssniffed.“Followme,please!”ShesnappedthewordsatJaneandMichael,andthey

ranafterherupthecreakingstairs.Miss Tartlet stood in the hallwatching themwith a superior smile on her

face.AtthetoplandingMaryPoppinsknockedonthedoorwiththeheadofthe

umbrella.Therewasnoreply.Sheknockedagain–louderthistime.Stilltherewasnoanswer.

“CousinArthur!”shecalled through thekey-hole.“CousinArthur,areyouin?”

“No,I’mout!”cameafar-awayvoicefromwithin.“Howcanhebeout?Icanhearhim!”whisperedMichaeltoJane.“CousinArthur!”MaryPoppinsrattledthedoor-handle.“Iknowyou’rein.”“No, no, I’m not!” came the far-away voice. “I’m out, I tell you. It’s the

SecondMonday!”“Oh,dear–I’dforgotten!”saidMaryPoppins,andwithanangrymovement

sheturnedthehandleandflungopenthedoor.Atfirst,allthatJaneandMichaelcouldseewasalargeroomthatappeared

tobequiteemptyexceptforacarpenter’sbenchatoneend.Pileduponthiswas

acuriouscollectionofarticles–chinadogswithnonoses,woodenhorses thathad lost their tails,chippedplates,brokendolls,kniveswithouthandles,stoolswithonlytwolegs–everythingintheworld,itseemed,thatcouldpossiblywantmending.

Roundthewallsoftheroomwereshelvesreachingfromfloortoceilingandthese,too,werecrowdedwithcrackedchina,brokenglassandshatteredtoys.

Buttherewasnosignanywhereofahumanbeing.“Oh,”saidJaneinadisappointedvoice.“Heisout,afterall!”ButMaryPoppinshaddartedacrosstheroomtothewindow.“Come in at once, Arthur! Out in the rain like that, and you with your

Bronchitisthewinterbeforelast!”And, to their amazement, Jane andMichael saw her grasp a long leg that

hung across the window-sill and pull in from the outer air a tall, thin, sad-lookingmanwithalong,droopingmoustache.

“Yououghttobeashamedofyourself,”saidMaryPoppinscrosslykeepingafirmholdofMrTurvywithonehandwhilesheshutthewindowwiththeother.“We’vebroughtyousomeimportantworktodoandhereyouarebehavinglikethis!”

“Well,Ican’thelpit,”saidMrTurvyapologetically,moppinghissadeyeswithalargehandkerchief.“ItoldyouitwastheSecondMonday.”

“Whatdoesthatmean?”askedMichael,staringatMrTurvywithinterest.“Ah,” saidMrTurvy, turning tohimand shakinghim limplyby thehand.

“It’skindofyoutoinquire,verykind.Idoappreciateit,really.”Hepausedtowipe his eyes again. “You see,” he went on, “it’s this way. On the SecondMondayofthemontheverythinggoeswrongwithme.”

“Whatkindofthings?”askedJane,feelingverysorryforMrTurvy,butalsoverycurious.

“Well,taketoday!”saidMrTurvy.“ThishappenstobetheSecondMondayofthemonth.AndbecauseIwanttobein–havingsomuchworktodo–I’mautomaticallyout.AndifIwantedtobeout,sureenough,I’dbein.”

“Isee,”saidJane,thoughshereallyfounditverydifficulttounderstand.“Sothat’swhy—?”

“Yes.”MrTurvynodded.“IheardyoucomingupthestairsandIdidsolongtobein.So,ofcourse,assoonasthathappened–thereIwas–out!AndI’dbeoutstillifMaryPoppinsweren’tholdingontome.”Hesighedheavily.

“Ofcourse,it’snotlikethisallthetime.Onlybetweenthehoursofthreeandsix–buteventhenitcanbeveryawkward.”

“I’msureitcan,”saidJanesympathetically.“And it’s not as if itwas only In andOut,”MrTurvywent onmiserably.

“It’sotherthingstoo.IfItrytogoupstairs,Ifindmyselfrunningdown.IhaveonlytoturntotherightandIfindmyselfgoingtotheleft.AndIneversetofffortheWestwithoutimmediatelyfindingmyselfintheEast.”

MrTurvyblewhisnose.“Andworstofall,”hecontinued,hiseyesfillingagainwithtears,“mywhole

naturealters.Tolookatmenow,you’dhardlybelieveIwasreallyahappyandsatisfiedsortofperson–wouldyou?”

And, indeed,MrTurvylookedsomelancholyanddistressedthat itseemedquiteimpossiblehecouldeverhavebeencheerfulandcontented.

“But,why?Why?”demandedMichael,staringupathim.MrTurvyshookhisheadsadly.“Ah!”hesaidsolemnly.“IshouldhavebeenaGirl.”JaneandMichaelstaredathimandthenateachother.Whatcouldhemean?“Yousee,”MrTurvyexplained,“mymotherwantedagirl,anditturnedout,

when I arrived, that Iwas aboy.So Iwentwrong right from thebeginning–fromthedayIwasborn,youmightsay.AndthatwastheSecondMondayofthemonth.”

MrTurvybegantoweepagain,sobbinggentlyintohishandkerchief.Janepattedhishandkindly.Heseemedpleased,thoughhedidnotsmile.“And,ofcourse,”hewenton,“it’sverybadformywork.Lookupthere!”He pointed to one of the larger shelves, onwhichwere standing a row of

hearts in different colours and sizes, each one cracked or chipped or entirelybroken.

“Now,those,”saidMrTurvy,“arewantedinagreathurry.Youdon’tknowhowcrosspeoplegetifIdon’tsendtheirheartsbackquickly.Theymakemorefussaboutthemthananythingelse.AndIsimplydaren’ttouchthemtillaftersixo’clock.They’dberuined–likethosethings!”

He nodded to another shelf. Jane andMichael looked and saw that itwaspiledhighwiththingsthathadbeenwronglymended.AchinaShepherdesshadbeenseparatedfromherchinaShepherdandherarmsweregluedabouttheneckofabrassLion;aToySailor,whomsomebodyhadwrenchedfromhisboat,wasfirmly stuck to aWillow-pattern plate; and in the boat, with his trunk curledround the mast and fixed there with sticking-plaster, was a grey-flannelElephant.Broken saucerswere riveted together thewrongway of the pattern,

andthelegofawoodenHorsewasfirmlyattachedtoasilverChristeningMug.“Yousee?”saidMrTurvyhopelessly,withawaveofhishand.JaneandMichaelnodded.Theyfeltvery,verysorryforMrTurvy.“Well,nevermindthatnow,”MaryPoppinsbrokeinimpatiently.“Whatis

importantisthisBowl.We’vebroughtittobemended.”ShetooktheBowlfromJaneand,stillholdingMrTurvywithonehand,she

untiedthestringwiththeother.“H’m!” said Mr Turvy. “Royal Doulton. A bad crack. Looks as though

somebodyhadthrownsomethingatit.”Janefeltherselfblushingashesaidthat.“Still,”hewenton,“ifitwereanyotherday,Icouldmendit.Buttoday—”

hehesitated.“Nonsense,it’squitesimple.You’veonlytoputarivethere–andhere–and

here!”Mary Poppins pointed to the crack, and, as she did so, she dropped Mr

Turvy’shand.Immediately,hewentspinningthroughtheair,turningoverandoverlikea

Catherinewheel.“Oh!”criedMrTurvy.“Whydidyouletgo?Poorme,I’moffagain!”“Quick–shutthedoor!”criedMaryPoppins.AndJaneandMichaelrushed

acrosstheroomandclosedthedoorjustbeforeMrTurvyreachedit.Hebangedagainst itandbouncedawayagain, turninggracefully,withaverysadlookonhisface,throughtheair.

Suddenlyhestopped,but inaverycuriousposition.Insteadofbeingright-side-uphewasupsidedownandstandingonhishead.

“Dear,dear!”saidMrTurvy,givingafiercekickwithhisfeet.“Dear,dear!”Buthisfeetwouldnotgodowntothefloor.Theyremainedwavinggentlyin

theair.“Well,”MrTurvyremarkedinhismelancholyvoice,”IsupposeIshouldbe

glad it’s no worse. This is certainly better – though notmuch better – thanhangingoutsideintherainwithnothingtositonandnoovercoat.Yousee,”helookedatJaneandMichael,“Iwantsomuchtoberight-side-upandso–justmyluck!–I’mupsidedown.Well,well,nevermind.Ioughttobeusedtoitbynow.I’vehadforty-fiveyearsofit.GivemetheBowl.”

MichaelranandtooktheBowlfromMaryPoppinsandputitonthefloorbyMrTurvy’shead.And,ashedidso,he feltacurious thinghappening tohim.Thefloorseemed tobepushinghis feetawayfromitand tilting theminto the

air.“Oh!”hecried.“Ifeelsofunny.Somethingmostextraordinaryishappening

tome!”Forbynow,he,too,wasturningCatherinewheelsthroughtheair,andflying

upanddowntheroom,untilhelandedhead-firstonthefloorbesideMrTurvy.“Strikemepink!”saidMrTurvyinasurprisedvoice,lookingatMichaelout

ofthecornerofhiseye.“Ineverknewitwascatching.Youtoo?Well,ofallthe–Hi,Hi,Isay!Steadythere!You’llknockthegoodsofftheshelves,ifyou’renotcareful,andIshallbechargedforbreakages.Whatareyoudoing?”

HewasnowaddressingJane,whosefeethadsuddenlysweptoffthecarpetandwereturningaboveherheadinthegiddiestmanner.Overandovershewent–firstherheadandthenherfeetintheair–untilatlastshecamedownontheothersideofMrTurvyandfoundherselfstandingonherhead.

“You know,” saidMr Turvy, staring at her solemnly,” this is very odd. Ineverknew ithappen toanyoneelsebefore.Uponmyword, Ineverdid. Idohopeyoudon’tmind.”

Janelaughed,turningherheadtowardshimandwavingherlegsintheair.“Not a bit, thank you. I’ve always wanted to stand on my head and I’ve

neverbeenabletodoitbefore.It’sverycomfortable.”“H’m,”saidMrTurvydolefully.“I’mgladsomebodylikes it. Ican’tsayI

feellikethat.”“I do,” saidMichael. “Iwish I could stay like this allmy life.Everything

lookssoniceanddifferent.”And, indeed, everythingwas different. From their strange position on the

floor,JaneandMichaelcouldseethatthearticlesonthecarpenter’sbenchwereallupsidedown–chinadogs,brokendolls,woodenstools–allstandingontheirheads.

“Look!”whisperedJanetoMichael.Heturnedhisheadasmuchashecould.And there, creeping out of a hole in thewainscoting, came a smallmouse. Itskipped,headoverheels,intothemiddleoftheroom,and,turningupsidedown,balanceddaintilyonitsnoseinfrontofthem.

Theywatcheditforamoment,verysurprised.ThenMichaelsuddenlysaid:“Jane,lookoutofthewindow!”She turned her head carefully, for it was rather difficult, and saw to her

astonishment thateverythingoutside theroom,aswellaseverything in it,wasdifferent. Out in the street the houses were standing on their heads, theirchimneyson thepavementand theirdoor-steps in theair,andoutof thedoor-

stepscamelittlecurlsofsmoke. In thedistanceachurchhad turned turtleandwasbalancingrathertop-heavilyonthepointofitssteeple.Andtherain,whichhadalwaysseemed to themtocomedownfromthesky,waspouringupfromtheearthinasteady,soakingshower.

“Oh,”saidJane,”howbeautifullystrangeitallis!It’slikebeinginanotherworld.I’msogladwecametoday.”

“Well,” saidMrTurvymournfully, “you’reverykind, Imust say.Youdoknowhowtomakeallowances.Now,whataboutthisBowl?”

Hestretchedouthishandtotakeit,butatthatmomenttheBowlgavealittleskipand turnedupsidedown.And itdid it soquicklyandsofunnily thatJaneandMichaelcouldnothelplaughing.

“This,” saidMr Turvymiserably, “is no laughingmatter for me, I assureyou. I shall have to put the rivets inwrongway up – and if they show, theyshow.Ican’thelpit.”

And,takinghistoolsoutofhispocket,hemendedtheBowl,weepingquietlyasheworked.

“Humph!”saidMaryPoppins,stoopingtopickitup.“Well,that’sdone.Andnowwe’llbegoing.”

AtthatMrTurvybegantosobpitifully.“That’sright,leaveme!”hesaidbitterly.“Don’tstayandhelpmekeepmy

mindoffmymisery.Don’tholdoutafriendlyhand.I’mnotworthit.I’dhopedyoumightallfavourmebyacceptingsomerefreshment.There’saPlumCakeina tinon the top shelf.But, there– I’dno right to expect it.You’veyourownlives to live and I shouldn’t ask you to stay and brightenmine.This isn’tmyluckyday.”

Hefumbledforhispocket-handkerchief.“Well—” began Mary Poppins, pausing in the middle of buttoning her

gloves.“Oh,dostay,MaryPoppins,do!”criedJaneandMichaeltogether,dancing

eagerlyontheirheads.“Youcouldreachthecakeifyoustoodonachair!”saidJanehelpfully.MrTurvy laughed for the first time. Itwas ratheramelancholysound,but

still,itwasalaugh.“She’llneednochair!”hesaidgloomilychucklinginhisthroat.“She’llget

whatshewantsandinthewayshewantsit–shewill.”Andatthatmoment,beforethechildren’sastonishedeyes,MaryPoppinsdid

a curious thing. She raised herself stiffly on her toes and balanced there for a

moment.Then,very slowly, and inamostdignifiedmanner, she turned sevenCatherinewheelsthroughtheair.Overandover,herskirtsclingingneatlyaboutherankles,herhatset tidilyonherhead,shewheeleduptothetopshelf, tookthe cake, andwheeled down again, landing neatly on her head in front ofMrTurvyandthechildren.

“Hooray!Hooray!Hooray!”shoutedMichaeldelightedly.ButfromthefloorMary Poppins gave him such a look that he rather wished he had remainedsilent.

“Thankyou,Mary,”saidMrTurvysadly,notseemingatallsurprised.“There!”snappedMaryPoppins.“That’sthelastthingIdoforyoutoday.”Sheputthecake-tindowninfrontofMrTurvy.Immediately,withalittlewobblyroll,itturnedupsidedown.Andeachtime

MrTurvyturneditright-side-up,itturnedoveragain.“Ah,”hesaiddespairingly,“Imighthaveknownit.Nothingisrighttoday–

noteventhecake-tin.Weshallhavetocutitopenfromthebottom.I’lljustask—”

And he stumbled on his head to the door and shouted through the crackbetweenitandthefloor.

“Miss Tartlet!Miss Tartlet! I’m so sorry to trouble you, but could you –wouldyou–doyoumindbringingatin-opener?”

FarawaydownstairsMissTartlet’svoicecouldbeheard,grimlyprotesting.“Tush!” said a loud croaky voice inside the room. “Tush and nonsense!

Don’tbotherthewoman!LetPollydoit!PrettyPolly!CleverPolly!”Turning theirheads, JaneandMichaelwere surprised to see that thevoice

came fromMary Poppins’ parrot-headed umbrella which was at that momentCatherine-wheelingtowardsthecake.It landedheaddownwardsonthetinandintwosecondshadcutalargeholeinitwithitsbeak.

“There!” squawked the parrot-head conceitedly “Polly did it! HandsomePolly!”Andahappyself-satisfiedsmilespreadoveritsbeakasitsettledhead-downwardsonthefloorbesideMaryPoppins.

“Well, that’sverykind,verykind!”saidMrTurvy inhisgloomyvoice,asthedarkcrustofthecakebecamevisible.

He tookaknifeoutofhispocketandcuta slice.Hestartedviolently,andpeeredatthecakemoreclosely.ThenhelookedreproachfullyatMaryPoppins.

“This isyourdoing,Mary!Don’tdeny it.Thatcake,when the tinwas lastopen,wasaPlumCake,andnow—”

“Spongeismoredigestible,”saidMaryPoppinsprimly.“Eatslowly,please.

You’renotStarvingSavages!”shesnapped,passingasmall sliceeach toJaneandMichael.

“That’s all verywell,” grumbledMrTurvybitterly, eatinghis slice in twobites.“ButIdolikeaplumortwo,Imustadmit.Ah,well,thisisnotmyluckyday!”Hebrokeoffassomebodyrappedloudlyonthedoor.

“Comein!”calledMrTurvy.MissTartlet, looking, if anything, rounder thanever, andpanting fromher

climbupthestairs,burstintotheroom.“The tin-opener, Mr Turvy—” she began grimly. Then she paused and

stared.“My!”shesaid,openinghermouthverywideandlettingthetin-openerslip

fromherhand.“OfallthesightsIeverdidsee,thisistheoneIwouldn’thaveexpected!”

She took a step forward, gazing at the four pairs of waving feet with anexpressionofdeepdisgust.

“Upsidedown–thelotofyou–likefliesonaceiling!Andyousupposedtobe respectable human creatures. This is no place for a lady ofmy standing. Ishallleavethehousethisinstant,MrTurvy.Pleasenotethat!”

Sheflouncedangrilytowardsthedoor.Butevenasshewenthergreatbillowingskirtsblewagainstherroundlegs

andliftedherfromthefloor.A look of agonised astonishment spread over her face. She flung out her

handswildly.“MrTurvy!MrTurvy,Sir!Catchme!Holdmedown!Help!Help!” cried

MissTartlet,asshe,too,beganasweepingCatherinewheel.“Oh, oh, the world’s turning turtle! What shall I do? Help! Help!” she

shrieked,asshewentoveragain.But as she turned a curious change cameover her.Her round face lost its

peevishexpressionandbegantoshinewithsmiles.AndJaneandMichael,withastartofsurprise,sawherstraighthaircrinkleintoamassoflittlecurlsasshewhirledandtwirledthroughtheroom.Whenshespokeagainhergruffvoicewasassweetashoneysuckle.

“Whatcanbehappeningtome?”criedMissTartlet’snewvoice.“Ifeellikeaball!Abouncingball!Orperhapsaballoon!Oracherrytart!”Shebrokeintoapealofhappylaughter.

“Dearme,howcheerfulIam!”she trilled, turningandcircling throughtheair. “Inever enjoyedmy lifebefore,butnow I feel I shall never stop. It’s the

loveliestsensation.IshallwritehometomySisteraboutit,tomyCousinsandUncles andAunts. I shall tell them that the only properway to live is upsidedown,upsidedown,upsidedown—”

And,chantinghappily,MissTartletwentwhirlingroundandround.JaneandMichaelwatchedherwithdelightandMrTurvywatchedherwithsurprise,forhehadneverknownMissTartlettobeanythingbutpeevishandunfriendly.

“Very odd!Very odd!” saidMr Turvy to himself, shaking his head as hestoodonit.

Anotherknocksoundedatthedoor.“AnyoneherenameofTurvy?”enquiredavoice,andthePostManappeared

inthedoorwayholdingaletter.Hestoodstaringatthesightthatmethiseyes.“Holy smoke!” he remarked, pushing his cap to the back of his head. “I

must-a come to the wrong place. I’m looking for a decent, quiet gentlemancalledTurvy.I’vegotaletterforhim.Besides,IpromisedmywifeI’dbehomeearlyandI’vebrokenmyword,andIthought—”

“Ha!”saidMrTurvyfromthefloor.“AbrokenpromiseisoneofthethingsIcan’tmend.Notinmyline.Sorry!”

ThePostManstareddownathim.“AmIdreamingoramInot?”hemuttered.“ItseemstomeI’vegotintoa

whirling,twirling,skirlingcompanyoflunatics!”“Givemetheletter,dearPostMan!MrTurvy,yousee,isengaged!Givethe

lettertoTopsyTartletandturnupsidedownwithme.”MissTartlet,wheelingtowardsthePostMan,tookhishandinhers.Andas

shetouchedhimhisfeetslitheredoffthefloorintotheair.Thenawaytheywent,handinhand,andoverandover,likeapairofbouncingfootballs.

“How lovely it is!” criedMissTartlet happily. “Oh,PostMandear,we’reseeinglifeforthefirsttime.Andsuchapleasantviewofit!Overwego!Isn’titwonderful?”

“Yes!”shoutedJaneandMichael,astheyjoinedthewheelingdanceofthePostManandMissTartlet.

PresentlyMrTurvy, too, joined in,awkwardly turningand tossing throughthe air.MaryPoppins and her umbrella followed, going over and over evenlyand neatly and with the utmost dignity. There they all were, spinning andwheeling, with the world going up and down outside, and the happy cries ofMissTartletechoingthroughtheroom.

“ThewholeoftheTown

IsUpsideDown!”

shesang,bouncingandbounding.Andupon theshelves thecrackedandbrokenhearts twirledandspun like

tops,theShepherdessandherLionwaltzedgracefullytogether,thegrey-flannelElephantstoodonhistrunkintheboatandkickedhisfeetintheair,andtheToySailordancedahornpipe,notonhisfeetbuthishead,whichbobbedabouttheWillow-patternplateverygracefully.

“HowhappyIam!”criedJane,asshecareeredacrosstheroom.“HowhappyIam!”criedMichael,turningsomersaultsintheair.Mr Turvy mopped his eyes with his handkerchief as he bounced off the

window-pane.MaryPoppins andherumbrella saidnothing,but just sailed calmly round,

headdownwards.“Howhappyweallare!”criedMissTartlet.ButthePostManhadnowfoundhistongueandhedidnotagreewithher.“’Ere!” he shouted, turning again. “’Elp! ’Elp! Where am I? Who am I?

WhatamI?Idon’tknowatall.I’mlost!Oh,’elp!”But nobody helped him and, firmly held in Miss Tartlet’s grasp, he was

whirledon.“Always lived a quiet life – I have!” hemoaned. “Behaved like a decent

citizen too. Oh, what’ll my wife say? And ’ow shall I get ’ome? ’Elp! Fire!Thieves!”

And, making a great effort, he wrenched his hand violently from MissTartlet’s.Hedropped the letter into the cake-tin andwentwheelingoutof thedooranddownthestairs,headoverheels,cryingloudly:

“I’llhavethelawonthem!I’llcallthePolice!I’llspeaktothePostMasterGeneral!”

Hisvoicediedawayashewentboundingfartherdownthestairs.Ping,ping,ping,ping,ping,ping!TheclockoutsideintheSquaresoundedsix.AndatthesamemomentJane’sandMichael’sfeetcamedowntothefloor

withathud,andtheystoodup,feelingrathergiddy.MaryPoppinsgracefullyturnedright-side-up,lookingassmartandtidyasa

figureinashop-window.TheUmbrellawheeledoverandstoodonitspoint.MrTurvy,withagreattossingoflegs,scrambledtohisfeet.

Theheartsontheshelfstoodstillandsteady,andnomovementcamefromtheShepherdessortheLion,orthegrey-flannelElephantortheToySailor.Tolookat themyouwouldneverhaveguessedthatamomentbefore theyhadallbeendancingontheirheads.

OnlyMiss Tartlet wentwhirling on, round and round the room, feet overhead,laughinghappilyandsinginghersong.

“ThewholeoftheTownIsUpsideDown,UpsideDown,UpsideDown!”

shechantedjoyfully.“MissTartlet!MissTartlet!”criedMrTurvy,runningtowardsher,astrange

light inhereyes.Hetookherarmasshewheeledpastandheld it tightlyuntilshestooduponherfeetbesidehim.

“What did you say your name was?” said Mr Turvy, panting withexcitement.

MissTartletactuallyblushed.Shelookedathimshyly.“Why,Tartlet,sir.TopsyTartlet!”MrTurvytookherhand.“Thenwillyoumarryme,MissTartlet,andbeTopsyTurvy?Itwouldmake

uptomeforsomuch.AndyouseemtohavebecomesohappythatperhapsyouwillbekindenoughtooverlookmySecondMondays.”

“Overlook them,Mr Turvy?Why, they will be my Greatest Treats,” saidMissTartlet.“Ihaveseen theworldupsidedown todayand IhavegotaNewPointofview.IassureyouIshalllookforwardtotheSecondMondaysallthemonth!”

Shelaughedshyly,andgaveMrTurvyherotherhand.AndMrTurvy,JaneandMichaelweregladtosee,laughedtoo.

“It’s after six o’clock, so I suppose he can be himself again,” whisperedMichaeltoJane.

Janedidnotanswer.Shewaswatchingthemouse.Itwasnolongerstandingonitsnosebuthurryingawaytoitsholewithalargecrumbofcakeinitsmouth.

MaryPoppinspickeduptheRoyalDoultonBowlandproceededtowrapitup.

“Pick up your handkerchiefs, please – and straighten your hats,” she

snapped.“Andnow—”Shetookherumbrellaandtuckedhernewbagunderherarm.“Oh,we’renotgoingyet,arewe,MaryPoppins?”saidMichael.“If you are in the habit of staying out all night, I am not,” she remarked,

pushinghimtowardsthedoor.“Mustyougo,really?”saidMrTurvy.Butheseemedtobesayingitoutof

merepoliteness.HehadeyesonlyforMissTartlet.ButMissTartletherselfcameuptothem,smilingradiantlyandtossingher

curls.“Comeagain,”shesaid,givingahandtoeachofthem.“Nowdo.MrTurvy

and I–” she lookeddownshylyandblushed–“willbe in to teaeverySecondMonday–won’twe,Arthur?”

“Well,”saidMrTurvy,“we’llbeinifwe’renotout–I’msureofthat!”HeandMissTartletstoodat the topof thestairswavinggoodbye toMary

Poppinsandthechildren–MissTartletblushinghappily,andMrTurvyholdingMissTartlet’shandandlookingveryproudandpompous...

“I didn’t know itwas as easy as that,” saidMichael to Jane, as they splashedthroughtherainunderMaryPoppins’umbrella.

“Whatwas?”saidJane.“Standingonmyhead.IshallpractiseitwhenIgethome.”“IwishwecouldhaveSecondMondays,”saidJanedreamily.“Getin,please!”saidMaryPoppins,shuttingherumbrellaandpushingthe

childrenupthewindingstairsofthebus.Theysat together in theseatbehindhers, talkingquietlyaboutall thathad

happenedthatafternoon.MaryPoppinsturnedandglaredatthem.“It is rude towhisper,” she said fiercely. “And sit up straight.You’re not

flour-bags!”Theywerequiet fora fewminutes.MaryPoppins,half-turning inherseat,

watchedthemwithangryeyes.“Whatafunnyfamilyyou’vegot,”Michaelremarkedtoher,tryingtomake

conversation.Herheadwentupwithajerk.“Funny?Whatdoyoumeanfunny,pray–funny?”“Well–odd.MrTurvy turningCatherinewheelsandstandingonhishead

—”

MaryPoppinsstaredathimasthoughshecouldnotbelieveherears.“DidIunderstandyoutosay,”shebegan,speakingherwordsasthoughshe

werebitingthem,”thatmycousinturnedaCatherinewheel?Andstoodon—”“Buthedid,”protestedMichaelnervously.“Wesawhim.”“On his head? A relation of mine on his head? And turning about like a

firework display?” Mary Poppins seemed hardly able to repeat the dreadfulstatement.SheglaredatMichael.

“Now this,” shebegan, andhe shrankback in terror fromherwilddartingeyes,“this is theLastStraw.Firstyouare impudent tomeandthenyouinsultmy relations. Itwould takevery littlemore–VeryLittleMore– tomakemegivenotice.So–Iwarnyou!”

Andwiththatshebouncedroundonherseatandsatwithherbacktothem.Andevenfromthebackshelookedangrierthantheyhadeverseenher.

Michaelleantforward.“I–Iapologise,”hesaid.Therewasnoanswerfromtheseatinfront.“I’msorry,MaryPoppins!”“Humph!”“Verysorry!”“Andwellyoumightbe!”sheretorted,staringstraightaheadofher.MichaelleanttowardsJane.“Butitwastrue–whatIsaid.Wasn’tit?”hewhispered.Janeshookherheadandputher finger toher lip.ShewasstaringatMary

Poppins’ hat. And presently, when she was sure that Mary Poppins was notlooking,shepointedtothebrim.

There,gleamingontheblackshinystraw,wasascatteringofcrumbs,yellowcrumbsfromaspongecake, thekindof thingyouwouldexpect tofindonthehatofapersonwhohadstoodontheirheadtohaveTea.

Michael gazed at the crumbs for a moment. Then he turned and noddedunderstandinglytoJane.

Theysat there, joggingupanddownasthebusrumbledhomewards.MaryPoppins’back,erectandangry,waslikeasilentwarning.Theydarednotspeakto her. But every time the bus turned a corner they saw the crumbs turningCatherinewheelsontheshiningbrimofherhat...

ChapterFive

THENEWONE

“BUTWHYMUSTwegoforawalkwithEllen?”grumbledMichael,slammingthegate.“Idon’tlikeher.Hernoseistoored.”

“Sh!”saidJane.“She’llhearyou.”Ellen,whowaswheelingtheperambulator,turnedround.“You’reacruel,unkindboy,MasterMichael!I’monlydoingmyduty,I’m

sure.It’snopleasuretometobegoingforawalkinthisheat–sothere!”Sheblewherrednoseonagreenhandkerchief.“Thenwhydoyougo?”Michaeldemanded.“BecauseMaryPoppinsisbusy.Socomealong,there’sagoodboy,andI’ll

buyyouapenn’orthofpeppermints.”“Idon’twantpeppermints,”mutteredMichael.“IwantMaryPoppins.”Plop-plop! Plop-plop! Ellen’s feet marched slowly and heavily along the

Lane.“Icanseearainbowthrougheverychinkofmyhat,”saidJane.“Ican’t,”saidMichaelcrossly.“Icanonlyseemysilklining.”Ellenstoppedatthecorner,lookinganxiouslyfortraffic.“Wantanyhelp?”enquiredthePoliceman,saunteringuptoher.“Well,” saidEllen, blushing, “if you could take us across the road, I’d be

obliged.Whatwithabadcold,andfourchildrento lookafter, Idon’tknowifI’monmyheadormyfeet.”Sheblewhernoseagain.

“Butyoumustknow!You’veonlygottolook!”saidMichael,thinkinghowPerfectlyAwfulEllenwas.

ButthePoliceman,apparently,thoughtdifferently,forhetooktightholdofEllen’sarmwithonehand,and thehandleof theperambulatorwith theother,andledheracrossthestreetastenderlyasthoughshewereabride.

“EvergetaDayOff?”heenquired,lookinginterestedlyintoEllen’sredface.“Well,” said Ellen. “Half-days, so to speak. Every second Saturday.” She

blewhernosenervously.“Funny,”saidthePoliceman.“Thosearemydaystoo.AndI’musuallyjust

aroundhereattwoo’clockintheafternoon.”“Oh!”saidEllen,openinghermouthverywideindeed.“So!”saidthePoliceman,noddingatherpolitely.“Well,I’llsee,”saidEllen.“Goodbye.”Andshewenttrudgingon,lookingbackoccasionallytoseeifthePoliceman

wasstilllooking.Andhealwayswas.“MaryPoppinsneverneedsapoliceman,”complainedMichael.“Whatcan

shebebusyabout?”“Somethingimportantishappeningathome,”saidJane.“I’msureofit.”“Howdoyouknow?”“I’vegotanempty,waitingsortoffeelinginside.”“Pooh!” saidMichael. “I expect you’re hungry!Can’twe go faster, Ellen,

andgetitover?”“Thatboy,”saidEllentotheParkrailing,“hasaheartofstone.No,wecan’t,

MasterMichael,becauseofmyfeet.”“What’sthematterwiththem?”“Theywillonlygosofastandnofaster.”“Oh,dearMaryPoppins!”saidMichaelbitterly.Hewent sighing after the perambulator. Janewalked beside him counting

rainbowsthroughherhat.Ellen’s slow feet tramped steadily onward. One-two. One-two.Plop-plop!

Plop-plop!

AndawaybehindtheminCherryTreeLanetheimportantthingwashappening.Fromtheoutside,NumberSeventeenlookedaspeacefulandsleepyasallthe

otherhouses.Butbehindthedrawnblindstherewassuchastirandbustlethat,ifithadn’tbeenSummer-time,apasser-bymighthave thought thepeople in thehousewereSpring-cleaningorgettingreadyforChristmas.

But theHouse itself stoodblinking in thesunshine, takingnonotice.Afterall,itthoughttoitself,Ihaveseensuchbustlingsoftenbeforeandshallprobablyseethemmanytimesagain,sowhyshouldIbotheraboutit?

And just then, the front door was flung open by Mrs Brill, and DoctorSimpsonhurriedout.MrsBrillstooddancingonhertoesasshewatchedhimgodown the garden path, swinging his little brown bag. Then she hurried to thePantryandcalledexcitedly:“Whereareyou,Robertson?Comealong,ifyou’recoming!”

She scuttled up the stairs two at a time with Robertson Ay, yawning andstretching,behindher.

“Sh!”hissedMrsBrill.“Sh!”SheputherfingertoherlipsandtiptoedtoMrsBanks’door.“Tch,tch!Youcan’tseenothingbutthewardrobe,”shecomplained,asshe

benttolookthroughthekey-hole.“Thewardrobeandabitofthewinder.”Butthenextmomentshestartedviolently.“MyGlory-goodness!”sheshrieked,asthedoorburstopensuddenlyandshe

fellbackagainstRobertsonAy.For there, framedagainst the light,stoodMaryPoppins, lookingverystern

andsuspicious. Inherarmsshecarried,withgreatcare,something that lookedlikeabundleofblankets.

“Well!”saidMrsBrillbreathlessly.“Ifitisn’tyou!Iwasjustpolishingthedoor-knob,puttingashineonit,sotosay,asyoucameout.”

MaryPoppinslookedatthedoor-knob.Itwasverydirty.“Polishingthekey-holeiswhatIshouldhavesaid!”sheremarkedtartly.ButMrsBrill tooknonotice.Shewasgazing tenderlyat thebundle.With

herlargeredhandshedrewasideafoldofoneof theblankets,andasatisfiedsmilespreadoverherface.

“Ah!” she cooed. “Ah, theLamb!Ah, theDuck!Ah, theTrinket!And asgoodasaweekofSundays,I’llbebound!”

RobertsonAyyawnedagainandstaredatthebundlewithhismouthslightlyopen.

“Another pair of shoes to clean!” he said mournfully, leaning against thebanistersforsupport.

“Mindyoudon’tdrop it,now!”saidMrsBrillanxiously,asMaryPoppinsbrushedpasther.

MaryPoppinsglancedatthembothcontemptuously.“IfIweresomepeople,”sheremarkedacidly,“I’dmindmyownbusiness!”And she folded theblanket over thebundle again andwentupstairs to the

Nursery...“Excuse me, please! Excuse me!” Mr Banks came rushing up the stairs,

nearlyknockingMrsBrilloverashehurriedintoMrsBanks’bedroom.“Well!” he said, sitting down at the foot of the bed. “This is all Very

Awkward. Very Awkward indeed. I don’t know that I can afford it. I hadn’tbargainedforfive.”

“I’msosorry!”saidMrsBanks,smilingathimhappily.

“You’renotsorry,notabit.Infact,you’reverypleasedandconceitedaboutit.Andthere’snoreasontobe.It’saverysmallone.”

“Ilikethemthatway,”saidMrsBanks.“Besides,itwillgrow.”“Yes,unfortunately!”he repliedbitterly. “And I shallhave tobuy it shoes

andclothesandatricycle.Yes,andsendittoschoolandgiveitaGoodStartinLife.Averyexpensiveproceeding.Andthen,afterallthat,whenI’manoldmansittingby the fire, itwillgoawayand leaveme.Youhadn’t thoughtof that, Isuppose?”

“No,”saidMrsBanks,tryingtolooksorry,butnotsucceeding.“Ihadn’t.”“Ithoughtnot.Well,thereitis.But,Iwarnyou!Ishallnotbeabletoafford

tohavethebathroomretiled.”“Don’tworryaboutthat,”saidMrsBankscomfortingly.“Ireallyliketheold

tilesbest.”“Thenyou’reaverystupidwoman.That’sallIhavetosay.”AndMrBankswentaway,mutteringandblusteringthroughthehouse.But

whenhegotoutsidethefrontdoor,heflungbackhisshoulders,andpushedouthischest,andputalargecigarinhismouth.And,soonafterthat,hewasheardtellingAdmiralBoomthenewsinavoicethatwasveryloudandconceitedandboastful...

MaryPoppins stoopedover thenewcradlebetween John’s andBarbara’s cotsandlaidthebundleofblanketscarefullyinit.

“Hereyouareatlast!BlessmyBeakandTail-feathers–Ithoughtyouwerenevercoming!Whichisit?”criedacroakingvoicefromthewindow.

MaryPoppinslookedup.TheStarlingwholivedonthetopoftheChimneywashoppingexcitedlyon

thewindow-sill.“Agirl.Annabel,” saidMaryPoppins shortly. “And I’ll thankyou tobe a

littlequieter.Squawkingandcroakingtherelikeapacketofmagpies!”But the Starling was not listening. He was turning somersaults on the

window-sill,clappinghiswingswildlytogethereachtimehisheadcameup.“Whatatreat!”hepanted,whenatlasthestoodupstraight.“WhataTreat!”

Oh,Icouldsing!”“Youcouldn’t.NotifyoutriedtillDoomsday!”scoffedMaryPoppins.ButtheStarlingwastoohappytocare.“Agirl!”heshrieked,dancingonhistoes.“I’vehadthreebroodsthisseason

and–wouldyoubelieveit?–everyoneofthemboys.ButAnnabelwillmake

uptomeforthat!”He hopped a little along the sill. “Annabel!” he burst out again. “That’s a

nice name! I had an Aunt called Annabel. Used to live in Admiral Boom’schimney,anddied,poorthing,ofeatinggreenapplesandgrapes.Iwarnedher!Iwarnedher!Butshewouldn’tbelieveme!So,ofcourse—”

“Willyoubequiet!”demandedMaryPoppins,makingadiveathimwithherapron.

“Iwill not!” he shouted, dodging neatly. “This is no time for silence. I’mgoingtospreadthenews.”

Heswoopedoutofthewindow.“Back in fiveminutes!”hescreamedatheroverhis shoulder,ashedarted

away.Mary Poppins moved quietly about the Nursery, putting Annabel’s new

clothesinaneatpile.TheSunlight,slippinginatthewindow,creptacrosstheroomanduptothe

cradle.“Openyoureyes,”itsaidsoftly,“andI’llputashineonthem!”Thecoverletofthecradletrembled.Annabelopenedhereyes.“Good girl!” said the Sunlight. “They’re blue, I see.My favourite colour!

There!Youwon’tfindabrighterpairofeyesanywhere!”ItslippedlightlyoutofAnnabel’seyesanddownthesideofthecradle.

“Thankyouverymuch!”saidAnnabelpolitely.AwarmBreezestirredthemuslinflouncesatherhead.“Curlsorstraight?”itwhispered,droppingintothecradlebesideher.“Oh,curls,please!”saidAnnabelsoftly.“Itdoessavetrouble,doesn’tit?”agreedtheBreeze.Anditmovedoverher

head,carefully turningup the featheryedgesofherhair,before it flutteredoffacrosstheroom.

“Hereweare!Hereweare!”Aharshvoiceshrilledfromthewindow.TheStarlinghadreturnedtothesill.

Andbehindhim,wobblinguncertainlyashealighted,cameaveryyoungbird.MaryPoppinsmovedtowardsthemthreateningly.“Nowyoubeoff!” she said angrily. “I’ll haveno sparrers litteringup this

Nursery—”ButtheStarling,withtheyoungoneathisside,brushedhaughtilypasther.“Kindly remember,MaryPoppins,” he said icily, “thatallmy families are

properlybroughtup.Littering,indeed!”

He alighted neatly on the edge of the cradle and steadied the Fledglingbesidehim.

Theyoungbirdstaredabouthimwithround, inquisitiveeyes.TheStarlinghoppedalongtothepillow.

“Annabel,dear,”hebegan,inahusky,wheedlingvoice,“I’mverypartialtoanice,crisp,crunchypieceofArrowrootBiscuit.”Hiseyes twinkledgreedily.“Youhaven’toneaboutyou,Isuppose?”

Thecurledheadstirredonthepillow.“No?Well,you’reyoungyetforbiscuits,perhaps.YoursisterBarbara–nice

girl,shewas,verygenerousandpleasant–alwaysrememberedme.Soif,inthefuture,youcouldsparetheoldfellowacrumbortwo...”

“OfcourseIwill,”saidAnnabel,fromthefoldsoftheblanket.“That’s thegirl!”croaked theStarlingapprovingly.Hecockedhisheadon

one side and gazed at her with his round, bright eye. “I hope,” he remarkedpolitely,“youarenottootiredafteryourjourney.”

Annabelshookherhead.“Where has she come from – out of an egg?” cheeped the Fledgling

suddenly.“Huh-huh!”scoffedMaryPoppins.“Doyouthinkshe’sasparrer?”TheStarlinggaveherapainedandhaughtylook.“Well, what is she, then? And where did she come from?” cried the

Fledglingshrilly,flappinghisshortwingsandstaringdownatthecradle.“Youtellhim,Annabel!”theStarlingcroaked.Annabelmovedherhandsinsidetheblanket.“I am earth and air and fire andwater,” she said softly. “I come from the

Darkwhereallthingshavetheirbeginning.”“Ah,suchdark!”saidtheStarlingsoftly,bendinghisheadtohisbreast.“Itwasdarkintheeggtoo!”theFledglingcheeped.“Icomefromtheseaanditstides,”Annabelwenton.“Icomefromthesky

anditsstars;Icomefromthesunanditsbrightness—”“Ah,sobright!”saidtheStarling,nodding.“AndIcomefromtheforestsofearth.”As if in a dream,Mary Poppins rocked the cradle – to-and-fro, to-and-fro

withasteadyswingingmovement.“Yes?”whisperedtheFledgling.“Slowly Imovedat first,” saidAnnabel, “always sleepinganddreaming. I

remembered all I had been, and I thought of all I shall be. And when I had

dreamedmydream,Iawokeandcameswiftly.”Shepausedforamoment,herblueeyesfullofmemories.“Andthen?”promptedtheFledgling.“IheardthestarssingingasIcameandIfeltwarmwingsaboutme.Ipassed

thebeastsof the jungleandcamethrough thedark,deepwaters. Itwasa longjourney.”

Annabelwassilent.TheFledglingstaredatherwithhisbrightinquisitiveeyes.MaryPoppins’hand layquietlyon the sideof thecradle.Shehadstopped

rocking.“Along journey, indeed!”said theStarlingsoftly, liftinghisheadfromhis

breast.“And,ah,sosoonforgotten!”Annabelstirredunderthequilt.“No!”shesaidconfidently.“I’llneverforget.”“StuffandNonsense!BeaksandClaws!Ofcourseyouwill.Bythetimethe

week’soutyouwon’trememberawordofit–whatyouareorwhereyoucamefrom!”

InsideherflannelpetticoatAnnabelwaskickingfuriously.“Iwill!Iwill!HowcouldIforget?”“Because they all do!” jeered the Starling harshly. “Every silly human,

except–”henoddedhisheadatMaryPoppins–“her!She’sdifferent,she’stheOddity,she’stheMisfit—”

“YouSparrer!”criedMaryPoppins,makingadartathim.ButwitharudelaughheswepthisFledglingofftheedgeofthecradleand

flewwithhimtothewindow-sill.“Tipped you last!” he said cheekily, as he brushed past Mary Poppins.

“Hullo,what’sthat?”Therewasachorusofvoicesoutsideonthelandingandaclatteroffeeton

thestairs.“Idon’tbelieveyou!Iwon’tbelieveyou!”criedAnnabelwildly.AndatthatmomentJaneandMichaelandtheTwinsburstintotheroom.“MrsBrillsaysyou’vegotsomethingtoshowus!”saidJane,flingingoffher

hat.“Whatisit?”demandedMichael,gazingroundtheroom.“Showme!Metoo!”shriekedtheTwins.Mary Poppins glared at them. “Is this a decent Nursery or the Zoological

Gardens?”sheenquiredangrily.“Answermethat!”

“TheZoo–er–Imean—”Michaelbrokeoffhurriedly, forhehadcaughtMaryPoppins’eye.“ImeanaNursery,”hesaidlamely.

“Oh, look, Michael, look!” Jane cried excitedly. “I told you somethingimportantwashappening!It’saNewBaby!Oh,MaryPoppins,canIhaveittokeep?”

MaryPoppins,withafuriousglanceatthemall,stoopedandliftedAnnabeloutofthecradleandsatdownwithherinthearmchair.

“Gently,please,gently!”shewarned,astheycrowdedabouther.“Thisisababy,notabattleship!”

“Aboy-baby?”askedMichael.“No,agirl–Annabel.”Michael andAnnabel stared at eachother.Heput his finger into her hand

andsheclutchedittightly.“Mydoll!”saidJohn,pushingupagainstMaryPoppins’knee.“Myrabbit!”saidBarbara,tuggingatAnnabel’sshawl.“Oh!”breathedJane,touchingthehairthatthewindhadcurled.“Howvery

smallandsweet!Likeastar.Wheredidyoucomefrom,Annabel?”Verypleasedtobeasked,Annabelbeganherstoryagain.“IcamefromtheDark...”sherecitedsoftly.Jane laughed.“Such funny little sounds!” shecried. “Iwish shecould talk

andtellus.”Annabelstared.“ButIamtellingyou!”sheprotested,kicking.“Ha-ha!” shrieked the Starling rudely from thewindow. “What did I say?

Excusemelaughing!”TheFledglinggiggledbehindhiswing.“PerhapsshecamefromaToyShop,”saidMichael.Annabel,withafuriousmovement,flunghisfingerfromher.“Don’tbesilly!”saidJane.“DoctorSimpsonmusthavebroughther inhis

littlebrownbag!”“Was I right, or was I wrong?” The Starling’s old dark eyes gleamed

tauntinglyatAnnabel.“Tellmethat!”hejeered,flappinghiswingsintriumph.But for answerAnnabel turned her face againstMary Poppins’ apron and

wept.Herfirstcries,thinandlonely,rangpiercinglythroughthehouse.“There!There!”saidtheStarlinggruffly.“Don’ttakeon!Itcan’tbehelped.

You’reonlyahumanchildafterall.Butnexttime,perhaps,you’llbelieveyour

Betters! Elders and Betters! Elders and Betters!” he screamed, prancingconceitedlyupanddown.

“Michael,takemyfeatherduster,please,andsweepthosebirdsoffthesill!”saidMaryPoppinsominously.

AsquawkofamusementcamefromtheStarling.“Wecansweepourselvesoff,MaryPoppins,thankyou!Wewerejustgoing,

anyway!Comealong,Boy!”Andwithaloud,cluckingchuckle,heflickedtheFledglingoverthesilland

swoopedwithhimthroughthewindow...

In avery short time,Annabel settleddowncomfortably to life inCherryTreeLane.Sheenjoyedbeingthecentreofattraction,andwasalwayspleasedwhensomebody leant over her cradle and said howpretty shewas, or howgoodorsweet-tempered.

“Dogoonadmiringme!”shewouldsay,smiling.“Ilikeitsomuch!”Andthentheywouldhastentotellherhowcurlyherhairwasandhowblue

hereyes,andAnnabelwouldsmileinsuchasatisfiedwaythattheywouldcry,“Howintelligentsheis!Youwouldalmostthinksheunderstood!”

But that always annoyed her, and shewould turn away in disgust at theirfoolishness.Which was silly, because when she was disgusted she looked socharmingthattheybecamemorefoolishthanever.

ShewasaweekoldbeforetheStarlingreturned.MaryPoppins, inthedimlightofthenightlight,wasgentlyrockingthecradlewhenheappeared.

“Backagain?”snappedMaryPoppins,watchinghimprance in.“You’reasbadasabadpenny!”Shegavealong,disgustedsniff.

“I’vebeenbusy!”saidtheStarling.“Havetokeepmyaffairsinorder.Andthisisn’ttheonlyNurseryIhavetolookafter,youknow!”Hisbeady,blackeyestwinkledwickedly.

“Humph!”shesaidshortly.“I’msorryfortheothers!”Hechuckled,andshookhishead.“Nobody like her!” he remarked chirpily to the blind-tassel. “Nobody like

her!She’sgotananswerforeverything!”Hecockedhisheadtowardsthecradle.“Well,howarethings?Annabelasleep?”

“Nothankstoyou,ifsheis!”saidMaryPoppins.TheStarlingignoredtheremark.Hehoppedtotheendofthesill.“I’llkeepwatch,”hesaid,inawhisper.“Yougodownandgetacupoftea.”MaryPoppinsstoodup.

“Mindanddon’twakeher,then!”TheStarlinglaughedpityingly.“My dear girl, I have in my time brought up at least twenty broods of

fledglings.Idon’tneedtobetoldhowtolookafteramerebaby.”“Humph!”MaryPoppinswalkedtothecupboardandverypointedlyputthe

biscuit-tinunderherarmbeforeshewentoutandshutthedoor.The Starling marched up and down the window-sill, backwards and

forwards,withhiswing-tipsunderhistail-feathers.Therewasasmallstirinthecradle.Annabelopenedhereyes.“Hullo!”shesaid.“Iwaswantingtoseeyou.”“Ha!”saidtheStarling,swoopingacrosstoher.“There’ssomethingIwantedtoremember,”saidAnnabel,frowning.“AndI

thoughtyoumightremindme.”Hestarted.Hisdarkeyeglittered.“Howdoesitgo?”hesaidsoftly.“Likethis?”Andhebeganinahuskywhisper:“Iamearthandairandfireandwater—”“No,no!”saidAnnabelimpatiently.“Ofcourseitdoesn’t.”“Well,”said theStarlinganxiously,“was itaboutyour journey?Youcame

fromtheseaanditstides,youcamefromtheskyand—”“Oh,don’tbesosilly!”criedAnnabel.“TheonlyjourneyIevertookwasto

the Park and back again this morning. No, no – it was something important.SomethingbeginningwithB.”

Shecrowedsuddenly.“I’ve got it!” she cried. “It’s Biscuit. Half an Arrowroot Biscuit on the

mantelpiece.Michaelleftitthereaftertea!”“Isthatall?”saidtheStarlingsadly.“Yes,ofcourse,”Annabelsaidfretfully.“Isn’titenough?Ithoughtyou’dbe

gladofanicepieceofbiscuit!”“SoIam,soIam!”saidtheStarlinghastily.“But...”Sheturnedherheadonthepillowandclosedhereyes.“Don’ttalkanymorenow,please!”shesaid.“Iwanttogotosleep.”TheStarlingglancedacrossatthemantelpiece,anddownagainatAnnabel.“Biscuits!”hesaid,shakinghishead.“Alas,Annabel,alas!”MaryPoppinscameinquietlyandclosedthedoor.“Didshewake?”shesaid,inawhisper.TheStarlingnodded.“Onlyforaminute,”hesaidsadly.“Butitwaslongenough.”

MaryPoppins’eyesquestionedhim.“She’sforgotten,”hesaid,withacatchinhiscroak.“She’sforgottenitall.I

knewshewould.But,ah,mydear,whatapity!”“Humph!”MaryPoppinsmovedquietlyabouttheNursery,puttingthetoysaway.She

glancedattheStarling.Hewasstandingatthewindow-sillwithhisbacktoher,andhisspeckledshoulderswereheaving.

“Caughtanothercold?”sheremarkedsarcastically.Hewheeledround.“Certainlynot!It’s–ahem–thenightair.Ratherchilly,youknow.Makes

theeyeswater.Well–Imustbeoff!”Hewaddledunsteadilytotheedgeofthesill.“I’mgettingold,”hecroaked

sadly.“That’swhatitis.Notsoyoungaswewere.Eh,MaryPoppins?”“Idon’tknowaboutyou–”MaryPoppinsdrewherselfuphaughtily–“but

I’mquiteasyoungasIwas,thankyou!”“Ah,” said theStarling, shakinghis head, “you’re awonder.AnAbsolute,

Marvellous,WonderfulWonder!”Hisroundeyetwinkledwickedly.“Idon’tthink!”hecalledbackrudely,ashedivedoutofthewindow.“Impudent Sparrer!” she shouted after him, and shut the window with a

bang...

ChapterSix

ROBERTSONAY’SSTORY

“STEPALONG, PLEASE!” saidMaryPoppins, pushing theperambulator,with theTwinsatoneendofitandAnnabelattheother,towardsherfavouriteseatinthePark.

Itwasagreenone,quiteneartheLake,andshechoseitbecauseshecouldbend sideways, everynowandagain, and seeherown reflection in thewater.The sight of her face, gleaming between two water-lilies always gave her apleasantfeelingofsatisfactionandcontentment.

Michaeltrudgedbehind.“We’re always stepping along,” he grumbled to Jane in a whisper, taking

carethatMaryPoppinsdidnothearhim,“butweneverseemtogetanywhere.”MaryPoppinsturnedroundandglaredathim.“Putyourhatonstraight!”Michaeltiltedhishatoverhiseyes.IthadH.M.S.Trumpeterprintedonthe

band,andhethoughtitsuitedhimverywell.ButMaryPoppinswaslookingwithcontemptatthemboth.“Humph!”shesaid.“Youtwolookapicture,Imustsay!Stravaigingalong

likeacoupleoftortoisesandnopolishonyourshoes.”“Well, it’sRobertsonAy’sHalf-day,” saidJane.“I supposehedidn’thave

timetodothembeforehewentout.”“Tch,tch!Lazy,idle,Good-for-Nothing–that’swhatheis.Alwayswasand

always will be!” Mary Poppins said savagely, pushing the perambulator upagainstherowngreenseat.

SheliftedouttheTwins,andtuckedtheshawltightlyaroundAnnabel.Sheglanced at her sunlit reflection in the Lake and smiled in a superior way,straightening the new bow of ribbon at her neck. Then she took her bag ofknittingfromtheperambulator.

“How do you know he’s always been idle?” asked Jane. “Did you knowRobertsonAybeforeyoucamehere?”

“Asknoquestionsandyou’llbetoldnolies!”saidMaryPoppinspriggishly,

asshebegantocastonstitchesforawoollenvestforJohn.“Shenevertellsusanything!”Michaelgrumbled.“Iknow!”sighedJane.But very soon they forgot aboutRobertsonAy andbegan to playMr-and-

Mrs-Banks-and-Their-Two-Children.Then theybecameRed IndianswithJohnandBarbara for squaws.Andafter that theychanged intoTight-Rope-Walkerswiththebackofthegreenseatforarope.

“Mindmyhat–if‘youplease!”saidMaryPoppins.Itwasabrownonewithapigeon’sfeatherstuckintotheribbon.

Michaelwentcarefully,footoverfoot,alongthebackoftheseat.Whenhegottotheendhetookoffhishatandwavedit.

“Jane,”hecried,“I’mtheKingoftheCastleandyou’rethe—”“Stop,Michael!” she interrupted, andpointed across theLake. “Lookover

there!”Along the path at the edge of the Lake came a tall, slim figure, curiously

dressed.Hewore stockings of red stripedwith yellow, a red-and-yellow tunicscallopedattheedges,andonhisheadwasalarge-brimmedred-and-yellowhatwithahigh,peakedcrown.

Jane andMichaelwatchedwith interest as he came towards them,movingwitha lazy,swaggeringstep,hishands inhispocketsandhishatpulleddownoverhiseyes.

Hewaswhistlingloudly,andashedrewnearertheysawthatthepeaksofhistunicandthebrimofhishatwereedgedwithlittlebellsthatjingledmusicallyashemoved.Hewasthestrangestpersontheyhadeverseen,andyet–therewassomethingabouthimthatseemedfamiliar.

“IthinkI’veseenhimbefore,”saidJane,frowningandtryingtoremember.“Sohave I.But I can’t thinkwhere.”Michaelbalancedon thebackof the

seatandstared.Whistlingandjingling,thecuriousfiguresloucheduptoMaryPoppinsand

leantagainsttheperambulator.“’Day,Mary!”he said,puttinga finger lazily to thebrimofhishat. “And

howareyoukeeping?”MaryPoppinslookedupfromherknitting.“Nonethebetterforyourasking,”shesaid,withaloudsniff.JaneandMichaelcouldnot see theman’s face for thebrimofhishatwas

wellpulleddown,butfromthewaythebellsjingledtheyknewhewaslaughing.“Busyasusual,Isee!”heremarked,glancingattheknitting.“Butthen,you

alwayswere,evenatCourt.Ifyouweren’tdustingtheThrone,you’dbemakingthe King’s bed, and if you weren’t doing that you were polishing the CrownJewels.Ineverknewsuchaoneforwork!”

“Well,it’smorethananyonecouldsayforyou!”saidMaryPoppinscrossly.“Ah,” laughed the Stranger, “that’s just where you’re wrong! I’m always

busy.Doingnothingtakesagreatdealoftime!Allthetime,infact!”MaryPoppinspursedupherlipsandmadenoreply.TheStrangergaveanamusedchuckle.“Well, Imustbegettingalong,”he

said.“Seeyouagainsomeday!”He brushed a finger along the bells of his hat and sauntered lazily away,

whistlingashewent.JaneandMichaelwatcheduntilhewasoutofsight.“TheDirtyRascal!”MaryPoppins’ voice rappedout behind them, and they turned to find that

she,too,wasstaringaftertheStranger.“Whowasthatman,MaryPoppins?”askedMichael,bouncingexcitedlyup

anddownontheseat.“I’vejusttoldyou,”shesnapped.“YousaidyouweretheKingoftheCastle

–andyou’renot,notbyanymeans!Butthat’stheDirtyRascal.”“YoumeantheoneintheNurseryRhyme?”demandedJanebreathlessly.“ButNurseryRhymesaren’ttrue,arethey?”protestedMichael.“Andifthey

are,whoistheKingoftheCastle?”“Hush!”saidJane,layingherhandonhisarm.MaryPoppinshadputdownherknittingandwasgazingoutacrosstheLake

withafar-awaylookinhereyes.JaneandMichaelsatverystill,hoping,iftheymadenosound,shewouldtell

them the whole story. The Twins huddled together at one end of theperambulator,solemnlystaringatMaryPoppins.Annabel,attheotherend,wassoundasleep.

TheKingoftheCastle(beganMaryPoppins,foldingherhandsoverherballofwoolandgazingright through thechildrenas though theywerenot there), theKingof theCastle lived inacountryso faraway thatmostpeoplehaveneverheardofit.Thinkasfarasyoucan,andit’sevenfurtherthanthat;thinkashighas you can, and it’s higher than that; think as deep as you can, and it’s evendeeper.

And,shewenton,ifIweretotellyouhowrichhewas,we’dbesittinghere

tillnextyearandstillbeonlyhalfwaythroughthelistofhistreasures.Hewasenormously,preposterously,extravagantlyrich.Infact,therewasonlyonethinginthewholeworldthathedidnotpossess.

Andthatthingwaswisdom.Hislandwasfullofgoldmines;hispeoplewerepoliteandprosperousand

generallysplendiferous.Hehadagoodwifeandfourfatchildren–orperhapsitwasfive.Henevercouldremembertheexactnumberbecausehismemorywassobad.

HisCastlewasmadeofsilverandgranite,andhiscofferswerefullofgold,andthediamondsinhiscrownwereasbigasducks’eggs.

Hehadmanymarvellouscities, and sailing-shipsat sea.And forhis right-handmanhehadaLordHighChancellorwhoknewexactlyWhatwasWhatandWhatwasNotandadvisedtheKingaccordingly.

ButtheKinghimselfhadnowisdom.Hewasutterlyandabsolutelyfoolishand,whatwasmore, he knew it! Indeed, he could hardly help knowing it foreverybody, from the Queen and the Lord High Chancellor downwards, wasconstantly reminding him of the fact. Even bus-conductors and engine-driversand thepeoplewhoserved inshopscouldhardly refrain from letting theKingknowtheyknewhehadnowisdom.Theydidn’tdislikehim,theymerelyfeltacontemptforhim.

Itwasnot theKing’s fault thathewassostupid.Hehad triedand tried tolearnwisdomever sincehewasaboy.But, in themiddleofhis lessons,evenwhenhewasgrownup,hewouldsuddenlyburstintotearsand,wipinghiseyesonhiserminetrain,wouldcry:“IknowIshallneverbeanygoodatit–never!Sowhynagatme?”

Butstillhisteacherscontinuedtomaketheeffort.ProfessorscamefromallovertheworldtotrytoteachtheKingoftheCastlesomething–evenifitwasonlyTwice-Times-TwoorC-A-Tcat.Butnoneofthemhadtheslightesteffectonhim.

ThentheQueenhadanidea.“Let us,” she said to the Lord High Chancellor, “offer a reward to the

ProfessorwhocanteachtheKingalittlewisdom!Andif,attheendofamonth,hehasnotsucceeded,hisheadshallbecutoffandspikedontheCastlegatesasawarningtootherProfessorsofwhatwillhappeniftheyfail.”

And,asmostof themwereratherpoorandtherewardwasa largemoney-prize,theProfessorskeptoncoming,andfailing,andlosinghope,andalsotheirheads.AndthespikesoftheCastlegatesbecamerathercrowded.

Thingswentfrombadtoworse.AndatlasttheQueensaidtotheKing:“Ethelbert!” (that was the King’s private name), “I really think you had

better leave the government of the Kingdom to me and the Lord HighChancellor,aswebothknowagooddealabouteverything!”

“But that wouldn’t be fair!” said the King, protesting. “After all, it’s myKingdom!”

However,hegaveinatlast,becauseheknewshewasclevererthanhe.Buthesomuchresentedbeingorderedabout inhisownCastle,andhaving tousethebentsceptrebecausehealwayschewedtheknobofthebestone,thathewenton receiving the Professors and trying to learnwisdom andweepingwhen hefoundhecouldn’t.Heweptfortheirsakesaswellashisown,foritmadehimunhappytoseetheirheadsonthegate.

EachnewProfessorarrivedfullofhopeandassuranceandbeganwithsomequestionthatthelasthadnotasked.

“Whatare sixandseven,YourMajesty?”enquiredayoungandhandsomeProfessorwhohadcomefromagreatdistance.

And the King, trying his hardest, thought for a moment. Then he leantforwardeagerlyandanswered–“Why,twelve,ofcourse!”

“Tch, tch, tch!”said theLordHighChancellor, standingbehind theKing’sChair.

TheProfessorgroaned.“Sixandsevenarethirteen,YourMajesty!”“Oh,I’msosorry!Tryanotherquestion,please,Professor!IamsureIshall

getthenextoneright.”“Well,then,whatarefiveandeight?”“Um–er–letmesee!Don’ttellme,it’sjustatthetipofmytongue.Yes!

Fiveandeightareeleven!”“Tch,tch,tch!”saidtheLordHighChancellor.“THIRTEEN!”criedtheyoungProfessorhopelessly.“But,mydearfellow,youjustsaidthatsixandsevenwerethirteen,sohow

canfiveandeightbe?Therearen’ttwothirteens,surely?”askedtheKing.But the young Professor only shook his head and loosened his collar and

wentdejectedlyawaywiththeExecutioner.“Istheremorethanonethirteen,then?”askedtheKingnervously.TheLordHighChancellorturnedawayindisgust.“I’msorry,”saidtheKingtohimself.“Ilikedhisfacesomuch.It’sapityit

hastogoonthegate.”

AndafterthatheworkedveryhardathisArithmetic,hopingthatwhenthenextProfessorcame,hewouldbeabletogivetherightanswers.

Hewould sit at the top of theCastle steps, just by the drawbridge,with abookofMultiplicationTablesonhis knees, saying themover tohimself.Andwhile hewas looking at the book everythingwentwell, butwhen he shut hiseyesandtriedtorememberthemeverythingwentwrong.

“Seven ones are seven, seven twos are thirty-three, seven threes are forty-five...”hebeganoneday.Andwhenhefoundhewaswronghethrewthebookawayindisgustandburiedhisheadinhiscloak.

“It’snogood,it’snogood!Ishallneverbewise!”hecriedindespair.Then,becausehecouldnotgoonweepingforever,hewipedhiseyesand

leant back in his golden chair. And as he did that, he gave a little start ofsurprise.ForastrangerhadpushedpastthesentryatthegateandwaswalkingupthepaththatledtotheCaste.

“Hullo,”saidtheKing,“whoareyou?”Forhehadnomemoryforfaces.“Well,ifitcomestothat,”repliedtheStranger,“whoareyou?”“I’mtheKingoftheCastle,”saidtheKing,pickingupthebentsceptreand

tryingtolookimportant.“AndI’mtheDirtyRascal,”wasthereply.TheKingopenedhiseyeswidewithastonishment.“Areyou really, though?That’s interesting! I’mverypleased tomeetyou.

DoyouknowSeventimesSeven?”“No.WhyshouldI?”At that theKing gave a great cry of delight and, running down the steps,

embracedtheStranger.“Atlast,atlast!”criedtheKing,“Ihavefoundafriend!Youshalllivewith

me!Whatismineshallbeyours!Weshallspendourlivestogether!”“But,Ethelbert,”protestedtheQueen,“thisisonlyaCommonPerson.You

cannothavehimhere.”“YourMajesty,”saidtheLordHighChancellorsternly,“itwouldnotdo.”ButforoncetheKingdefiedhim.“Itwilldoverynicely!”hesaidroyally.“WhoisKinghere–youorI?”“Well,ofcourse,inamannerofspeaking,youare,asitwere,YourMajesty,

but—”“Verywell.PutthismanincapandbellsandhecanbemyFool!’“Fool!” cried the Queen, wringing her hands. “Do we need any more of

these?”

ButtheKingdidnotanswer.HeflunghisarmroundtheStranger’sneckandthetwowentdancingtotheCastledoor.

“Youfirst!”saidtheKingpolitely.“No,you!”saidtheStranger.“Both together, then!” said theKing generously, and theywent in side by

side.AndfromthatdaytheKingmadenoattempttolearnhislessons.Hemadea

pileofallhisbooksandburnttheminthecourtyardwhileheandhinewfrienddancedrounditsinging:

“I’mtheKingoftheCastle,Andyou’retheDirtyRascal!”

“Isthattheonlysongyoucansing?”askedtheFooloneday.“Yes,I’mafraiditis!”saidtheKingrathersadly“Doyouknowanyothers?”“Oh,dear,yes!”saidtheFool.Andhesangsweetly:

“Bright,brightBee,inyourflightDropdownsomeHoneyForSuppertonight!”

and

“Sweetandlow,overtheSnow,Thelolloping,scallopingLobstersgo–Didyouknow?”

and

“BoysandGirls,comeouttoplayOvertheHillsandFarAway,TheSheep’sintheMeadow,theCow’sintheStall,AnddownwillcomeBaby,CradleandAll!”

“Lovely!”criedtheKing,clappinghishands.“Nowlisten!I’vejustthoughtofonemyself!Itgoeslikethis:

“AllDogs–Tiddle-de-um!HateFrogs–Tiddle-di-do!”

“H’m!”saidtheFool.“Notbad!”“Waitaminute!”saidtheKing.“I’vethoughtofanother!AndIthinkit’sa

betterone.Listencarefully!”Andhesang:

“Pluckmeaflower,AndcatchmeaStar,AndbraizetheminButterAndTreacleandTar.

Tra-la!Howdelicioustheyare!”

“Bravo!”criedtheFool.“Let’ssingittogether!”AndheandtheKingwentdancingthroughtheCastle,chantingtheKing’s

twosongs,oneaftertheother,toaveryspecialtune.Andwhentheyweretiredofsingingtheyfelltogetherinaheapinthemain

corridor,andtherewenttosleep.“He getsworse andworse!” said theQueen to the LordHighChancellor.

“Whatarewetodo?”“Ihavejustheard,”repliedtheLordHighChancellor,“thatthewisestman

inthekingdom,theChiefofalltheProfessors,iscomingtomorrow.Perhapshewillhelpus!”

AndthenextdaytheChiefProfessorarrived,walkingsmartlyupthepathtotheCastle,carryingalittleblackbag.ItwasrainingslightlybutthewholeCourthadgatheredatthetopofthestepstowelcomehim.

“Hashegothiswisdominthatlittleblackbag,doyouthink?”whisperedtheKing. But the Fool, who was playing knuckle-bones beside the throne, onlysmiled,andwentontossing.

“Now,ifYourMajestypleases,”saidtheChiefProfessor, inabusinesslikevoice,“letustakeArithmeticfirst.CanYourMajestyanswerthis?IftwoMenand a Boy were wheeling a Barrow over a Clover-field, in the middle ofFebruary,howmanyLegswouldtheyhavebetweenthem?”

TheKinggazedathimforamoment,rubbinghissceptreagainsthischeek.TheFooltossedaknuckle-boneandcaughtitneatlyonthebackofhiswrist.“Doesitmatter?”saidtheKing,smilingpleasantly.TheChiefProfessorstartedviolentlyandlookedattheKinginastonishment.“As a matter of fact,” he said quietly, “it doesn’t. But I will ask Your

Majestyanotherquestion.HowdeepistheSea?”“Deepenoughtosailashipon.”Again the Chief Professor stared, and his long beard quivered. He was

smiling.“What is thedifference,Majesty,betweenaStarandaStone,aBirdanda

Man?”“Nodifferenceatall,Professor.AStoneisaStarthatshinesnot.Amanisa

Birdwithoutwings.”TheChiefProfessordrewnearer,andgazedwonderinglyattheKing.“Whatisthebestthingintheworld?”heaskedquietly.“DoingNothing,”answeredtheKing,wavinghisbentsceptre.“Oh,dear,oh,dear!”wailedtheQueen.“Thisisdreadful!”“Tch!Tch!Tch!”saidtheLordHighChancellor.ButtheChiefProfessorranupthestepsandstoodbytheKing’sthrone.“Whotaughtyouthesethings,Majesty?”hedemanded.The King pointed with his sceptre to the Fool, who was throwing up his

knuckle-bones.“Him,”saidtheKingungrammatically.TheChiefProfessorraisedhisbushyeyebrows.TheFoollookedupathim

and smiled. He tossed a knuckle-bone, and the Professor, bending forward,caughtitonthebackofhishand.

“Ha!”hecried.“Iknowyou!Even in thatcapandbells, Iknow theDirtyRascal!”

“Ha,ha!”laughedtheFool.“Whatelsedidheteachyou,Majesty?”TheChiefProfessorturnedagainto

theKing.“Tosing,”answeredtheKing.Andhestoodupandsang:

“AblackandwhiteCowSatupinaTreeAndifIweresheThenIshouldn’tbeme!”

“Verytrue,”saidtheChiefProfessor.“Whatelse?”TheKingsangagain,inapleasant,quaveringvoice:

“TheEarthspinsround

WithoutatiltSothattheSeaShallnotbespilt.”

“So it does,” remarked the Chief Professor. “Any more?” “Oh, Gracious,yes!”saidtheKing,delightedathissuccess.“There’sthisone:

“Oh,IcouldlearnUntilI’mpink,ButthenI’dhaveNotimetothink.

“Orperhaps,Professor,you’dprefer:

“Wewon’tgoroundTheWorld,forthenWe’donlycomeBackHomeagain!”

TheChiefProfessorclappedhishands.“There’sonemore,”saidtheKing,“ifyou’dcaretohearit.”“Pleasesingit,Sire!”AndtheKingcockedhisheadattheFoolandsmiledwickedlyandsang:

“ChiefProfessorsAllshouldbeDrownedinearlyInfancee!”

AttheendofthesongtheChiefProfessorgavealoudlaughandfellattheKing’sfeet.

“Oh,King,”hesaid,“liveforever!Youhavenoneedforme!”Andwithoutanotherwordherandownthestepsandtookoffhisovercoat,

coatandwaistcoat.ThenheflunghimselfdownuponthegrassandcalledforaplateofStrawberries-and-Cream,andalargeglassofBeer.

“Tch!Tch!Tch!” said the horrified Lord High Chancellor. For now all theCourtierswererushingdownthestepsand takingoff theircoatsandrolling intherainygrass.

“StrawberriesandBeer!StrawberriesandBeer!”theyshoutedthirstily.“Givehim theprize!” said theChiefProfessor, suckinghisBeer througha

straw,andnoddinginthedirectionoftheFool.“Pooh!”saidtheFool.“Idon’twantit.WhatwouldIdowithit?”And he scrambled to his feet, put his knuckle-bones in his pocket, and

strolledoffdownthepath.“Hi,whereareyougoing?”criedtheKinganxiously.“Oh, anywhere, everywhere!” said the Fool airily, sauntering on down the

path.“Waitforme,waitforme!”calledtheKing,stumblingoverhistrainashe

hurrieddownthesteps.“Ethelbert! What are you doing? You forget yourself!” cried the Queen

angrily.“I do not, my dear!” the King called back. “On the contrary, I am

rememberingmyselfforthefirsttime!”Hehurrieddownthepath,caughtupwiththeFool,andembracedhim.“Ethelbert!”calledtheQueenagain.TheKingtooknonotice.Therainhadceasedbuttherewasstillawateringbrightnessintheair.And

presentlyarainbowstreamedoutof thesunandcurved inagreatarcdowntotheCastlePath.

“Ithoughtwemighttakethisroad,”saidtheFool,pointing.“What?Therainbow?Isitsolidenough?Willitholdus?”“Try!”TheKing looked at the rainbow and its shimmering stripes of violet, blue

andgreenandyellowandorangeandred.ThenhelookedattheFool.“Allright,I’mwilling!”hesaid.“Comeon!”Hesteppeduptothecoloured

path.“Itholds!”cried theKingdelightedly.Andhe ranswiftlyup theRainbow,

histraingatheredinhishand.“I’mtheKingoftheCastle!”hesangtriumphantly.“AndI’mtheDirtyRascal!”calledtheFool,runningafterhim.“But–it’simpossible!”saidtheLordHighChancellor,gasping.TheChiefProfessorlaughedandswallowedanotherstrawberry.“Howcananythingthattrulyhappensbeimpossible?”heenquired.“Butitis!Itmustbe!It’sagainstalltheLaws!”ThefaceoftheLordHigh

Chancellorwaspurplewithanger.AcryburstfromtheQueen.“Oh,Ethelbert, comeback!” she implored. “I don’tmind how foolish you

areifyou’llonlycomeback!”The King glanced down over his shoulder and shook his head. The Fool

laughedloudly.Upanduptheywenttogether,steadilyclimbingtherainbow.Something curved and shining fell at the Queen’s feet. It was the bent

sceptre.AmomentlateritwasfollowedbytheKing’scrown.Shestretchedoutherarmsimploringly.ButtheKing’sonlyanswerwasasong,sunginhishigh,quaveringvoice:

“Saygoodbye,Love,Nevercry,Love,Youarewise,AndsoamI,Love!”

TheFool,withacontemptuousflickofhishand,tossedherdownaknuckle-bone.ThenhegavetheKingalittlepush,andurgedhimonwards.

TheKingpickeduphistrainandran,andtheFoolpoundedathisheels.On and on they went up the bright, coloured path, until a cloud passed

betweenthemandtheearth,andthewatchingQueensawthemnolonger.

“Youarewise,AndsoamI,Love!”

The echo of the King’s song came floating back. She heard the last thinthreadofitaftertheKinghimselfhaddisappeared.

“Tch!Tch!Tch!”saidtheLordHighChancellor.“Suchthingsaresimplynotdone!”

ButtheQueensatdownupontheemptythroneandwept.“Aie!” she cried softly, behind the screenof her hands. “MyKing is gone

andIamverydesolate,andnothingwilleverbethesameagain.”Meanwhile,theKingandtheFoolhadreachedthetopoftherainbow.“Whataclimb!”pantedtheKing,sittingdownandwrappinghiscloakabout

him.“IthinkIshallsithereforabit–perhapsforalongtime.Yougoon!”“Youwon’tbelonely?”theFoolenquired.“Oh,dear,no!WhyshouldIbe?Itisveryquietandpleasantuphere.AndI

canalwaysthink–or,betterstill,gotosleep.”Andashesaidthat,hestretchedhimselfoutupontherainbowwithhiscloakunderhishead.

TheFoolbentdownandkissedhim.“Goodbye,then,King!”hesaidsoftly.“Foryounolongerhaveanyneedof

me.”

HelefttheKingquietlysleeping,andwentwhistlingdowntheothersideoftherainbow.

And from therehewentwandering theworldagain, ashehaddone in thedaysbeforehemet theKing, singingandwhistling,and takingno thought foranythingbuttheimmediatemoment.

SometimeshetookservicewithotherKingsandhighpeople,andsometimeshe went among ordinary men living in small streets or lanes. Sometimes hewouldbewearinggorgeousliveryandsometimesclothesaspoorasanyoneeverstoodupin.Butnomatterwherehewenthebroughtgoodfortuneandgreatlucktothehousethatroofedhim...

MaryPoppinsceasedspeaking.ForamomentherhandslaystillinherlapandhereyesgazedoutunseeinglyacrosstheLake.

Thenshesighedandgavehershouldersalittleshakeandstoodup.“Nowthen,”shesaidbriskly.“BestFeetForward!Andoffhome!”SheturnedtofindJane’seyesfixedsteadilyuponher.“You’ll know me next time, I hope!” she remarked tartly. “And you,

Michael, getdownoff that seat at once!Doyouwant tobreakyourneckandgivemethetroubleofcallingaPoliceman?”

Shestrapped theTwins into theperambulatorandpushed it in frontofherwithaquick,impatientmovement.

JaneandMichaelfellintostepbehind.“I wonder where the King of the Castle went when the rainbow

disappeared?”saidMichaelthoughtfully.“He went with it, I suppose, wherever it goes,” said Jane. “But what I

wonderis–whathappenedtotheRascal?”MaryPoppinshadwheeledtheperambulatorintotheElmWalk.And,asthe

childrenturnedthecorner,MichaelcaughtJane’shand.“Therehe is!”hecriedexcitedly,pointingdowntheElmWalk to thePark

Gates.A tall, slim figure, curiously dressed in red and yellow, was swaggering

towardstheentrance.Hestoodforamoment,lookingupanddownCherryTreeLane, and whistling. Then he slouched across to the opposite pavement andswunghimselflazilyoveroneofthegardenfences.

“It’s ours!” said Jane, recognising it by the brick that had always beenmissing.“He’sgoneintoourgarden.Run,Michael!Let’scatchupwithhim!”

TheyranatagallopafterMaryPoppinsandtheperambulator.

“Nowthen,nowthen!Nohorse-play,please!”saidMaryPoppins,grabbingMichael’sarmfirmlyasherushedby.

“Butwewant—”hebegan,squirming.“WhatdidIsay?”shedemanded,glaringathimsofiercelythathedarednot

disobey.“Walkbesideme,please,likeaChristian.AndJane,youcanhelpmepushthepram!”

UnwillinglyJanefellintostepbesideher.As a rule, Mary Poppins allowed nobody to push the perambulator but

herself. But today it seemed to Jane that she was purposely preventing themfromrunningahead.ForherewasMaryPoppins,whousuallywalkedsoquicklythat itwasdifficult tokeepupwithher,goingata snail’spacedown theElmWalk,pausingeveryfewminutestogazeabouther,andstandingforat leastaminuteinfrontofabasketoflitter.

Atlast,afterwhatseemedtothemlikehours,theycametotheParkGates.ShekeptthembesideheruntiltheyreachedthegateofNumberSeventeen.Thentheybrokefromherandwentflyingthroughthegarden.

Theydartedbehindthelilactree.Notthere!Theysearchedamongtherhododendronsandlookedintheglass-house,the

tool-shedandthewater-butt.Theyevenpeeredintoacircleofhose-piping.TheDirtyRascalwasnowheretobeseen!

Therewasonlyoneotherpersoninthegarden,andthatwasRobertsonAy.Hewassoundasleepinthemiddleofthelawn,withhischeekagainsttheknivesofthelawn-mower.

“We’vemissed him!” saidMichael. “Hemust have taken a short cut andgoneoutbythebackway.Nowwe’llneverseehimagain.”

Heturnedbacktothelawn-mower.Jane,standingbesideit,lookeddownaffectionatelyatRobertsonAy.Hisold

felt hatwas pulled over his face, its crown crushed and dented into a curvingpeak.

“IwonderifhehadagoodHalf-day!”saidMichael,whisperingsoasnottodisturbhim.

But, small as the whisper was, Robertson Ay must have heard it. For hesuddenly stirred in his sleep and settled himselfmore comfortably against thelawn-mower.Andashemovedtherewasafaint,jinglingsoundasthough,nearathand,smallbellsweresoftlyringing.

WithastartJaneliftedherheadandglancedatMichael.“Didyouhear?”shewhispered.

Henodded,staring.RobertsonAymovedagainandmutteredinhissleep.Theybenttolisten.“Black-and-white Cow,” he murmured indistinctly. “Sat up in a Tree. . .

mumble,mumble,mumble...itcouldn’tbeme!Hum...!”Across his sleeping body Jane and Michael gazed at each other with

wonderingeyes.“Humph!Welltobehim,Imustsay!”MaryPoppinshadcomeupbehindthem,andshe,too,wasstaringdownat

RobertsonAy.“Thelazy,idle,Good-for-Nothing!”shesaidcrossly.Butshecouldn’treallyhavebeenascrossasshesounded,forshetookher

handkerchiefoutofherpocketandslippeditbetweenRobertsonAy’scheekandthelawn-mower.

“He’llhaveacleanface,anyway,whenhewakesup.That’llsurprisehim!”shesaidtartly.

But Jane and Michael noticed how careful she had been not to wakenRobertsonAy,andhowsofthereyeswerewhensheturnedaway.

They tip-toedafterher,noddingwisely tooneanother.Eachknewthat theotherunderstood.

MaryPoppinstrundledtheperambulatorupthestepsandintothehall.Thefrontdoorshutwithaquietlittleclick.

OutsideinthegardenRobertsonAyslepton...

ThatnightwhenJaneandMichaelwenttosayGoodnighttohim,MrBankswasinatoweringrage.Hewasdressingtogoouttodinnerandhecouldn’tfindhisbeststud.

“Well,byAllthat’sLively,hereitis!”hecriedsuddenly.“Inatinofstove-blacking–ofall things,onmydressing-table!ThatRobertsonAy’sdoing. I’llsackthatfellowoneofthesedays.He’snothingbutadirtyrascal!”

AndhecouldnotunderstandwhyJaneandMichael,whenhesaidthat,burstintosuchjoyouspealsoflaughter...

ChapterSeven

THEEVENINGOUT

“WHAT, NO PUDDING?” saidMichael, asMaryPoppins, her arms full of plates,mugsandknives,begantolaythetableforNurseryTea.

Sheturnedandlookedathimfiercely.“This,”shesnapped,“ismyEveningOut.Soyouwilleatbreadandbutter

andstrawberryjamandbethankful.There’smanyalittleboywouldbegladtohaveit.”

“I’mnot,”grumbledMichael.“Iwantrice-puddingwithhoneyinit.”“Youwant!Youwant!You’realwayswanting.Ifit’snotthisit’sthat,andif

it’snotthatit’stheother.You’llaskfortheMoonnext.”Michaelputhishandsinhispocketsandmovedsulkilyawaytothewindow-

seat.Janewaskneelingthere,staringoutatthebright,frostysky.Heclimbedupbesideher,stilllookingverycross.

“Allright,then!IdoaskfortheMoon.Sothere!”HeflungthewordsbackatMaryPoppins.“ButIknowIshan’tgetit.Nobodyevergivesmeanything.”

Heturnedhurriedlyawayfromherangryglare.“Jane,”hesaid,“there’snopudding.”“Don’tinterruptme,I’mcounting!”saidJane,pressinghernoseagainstthe

window-panesothatitwasquitebluntandsquashedatthetip.“Countingwhat?”heasked,notvery interested.Hismindwas fullof rice-

puddingandhoney.“Shootingstars.Look,theregoesanother!That’sseven.Andanother!Eight.

AndoneoverthePark–that’snine!’“O-o-h! And there’s one going down Admiral Boom’s chimney!” said

Michael,sittingupsuddenly,andforgettingallaboutthepudding.“Andalittleone–see!–streakingrightacrosstheLane.Suchfrostylights!”

cried Jane. “Oh, how I wish wewere out there!Whatmakes the stars shoot,MaryPoppins?”

“Dotheycomeoutofagun?”enquiredMichael.MaryPoppinssniffedcontemptuously.

“WhatdoyouthinkIam?AnEncyclopaedia?EverythingfromAtoZ?”shedemandedcrossly.“Comeandeatyourteas,please!”Shepushedthemtowardstheirchairsandpulleddowntheblind.“AndNoNonsense.I’minahurry!”

And shemade them eat so quickly that theywere both afraid theywouldchoke.

“Mayn’tIhavejustonemorepiece?”askedMichael,stretchingouthishandtotheplateofbreadandbutter.

“Youmaynot.Youhavealreadyeatenmore than isgood foryou.TakeaGingerBiscuitandgotobed.”

“But—”“Butmenobutsoryou’llbesorry!”sheflungathimsternly.“I shall have indigestion, I know I shall!” he said to Jane, but only in a

whisper,forwhenMaryPoppinslookedlikethatitwaswisernottomakeanyremarkatall.Janetooknonotice.ShewasslowlyeatingherGingerBiscuitandpeeringcautiouslyoutatthefrostyskythroughachinkintheblind.

“Thirteen,Fourteen,Fifteen,Sixteen—”“DidIordidInotsaybed?”enquiredthefamiliarvoicebehindthem.“Allright!I’mjustgoing,MaryPoppins!”And they ran squealing to theNightNursery,withMaryPoppinshurrying

afterthemandlookingSimplyAwful.Lessthanhalfanhourlatershewastuckingeachoneintightly,pushingthe

sheetsandblanketsunderthemattresswithsharp,furiouslittlestabs.“There!” she said, snapping the words between her lips. “That’s all for

tonight.AndifIhearOneWord—”Shedidnotfinishthesentencebutherlooksaidallthatwasnecessary.

“There’llbeTrouble!”saidMichael,finishingitforher.Buthewhispereditunder his breath to his blanket, for he knewwhat would happen if he said italoud.Shewhiskedoutof theroom,herstarchedapronrustlingandcrackling,andshutthedoorwithanangryclick.Theyheardherlightfeethurryingawaydownthestairs–Tap-tap,Tap-tap–fromlandingtolanding.

“She’s forgotten to light the nightlight,” said Michael, peering round thecornerofhispillow.“Shemustbeinahurry.Iwonderwhereshe’sgoing?”

“Andshe’slefttheblindup!”saidJane,sittingupinbed.“Hooray,nowwecanwatchtheshootingstars!”

The pointed roofs of Cherry Tree Lane were shiny with frost, and themoonlightsliddownthegleamingslopesandfellsoundlesslyintothedarkgulfsbetweenthehouses.Everythingglimmeredandshone.Theearthwasasbrightas

thesky.“Seventeen-Eighteen-Nineteen-Twenty. . .” said Jane, steadily counting as

thestarsshotdown.Asfastasonedisappearedanothercameto take itsplace,until it seemed that the whole sky was alive and dancing with the dazzle ofshootingstars.

“Itislikefireworks,”saidMichael.“Oh,lookatthatone!OrtheCircus.DoyouthinktheyhavecircusesinHeaven,Jane?”

“I’mnotsure!”saidJanedoubtfully.“There’stheGreatBearandtheLittleBear,ofcourse,andTaurus-the-BullandLeo-the-Lion.ButIdon’tknowaboutaCircus.”

“MaryPoppinswouldknow,”saidMichael,noddingwisely.“Yes,butshewouldn’ttell,”saidJane,turningagaintothewindow.“Where

was I?Was it Twenty-One?Oh,Michael, such a beauty – do you see?” Shebouncedexcitedlyupanddowninherbed,pointingtothewindow.

Averybrightstar, largerthananytheyhadyetseen,wasshootingthroughtheskytowardsNumberSeventeenCherryTreeLane.Itwasdifferentfromtheothers for, instead of leaping straight across the dark, itwas turning over andover,curvingthroughtheairverycuriously.

“Duckyourhead,Michael!” shoutedJanesuddenly.“It’scoming inhere!”Theydiveddownintotheblanketsandburrowedtheirheadsunderthepillows.

“Do you think it’s gone now?” came Michael’s muffled voice presently.“I’mnearlysmothercated.”

“Ofcourse Ihaven’tgone!”A small, clearvoice answeredhim. “Whatdoyoutakemefor?”

Very surprised, Jane and Michael threw off the bed-clothes and sat up.There, at the end of the window-sill, perched on its shiny tail and gleamingbrightlyatthem,wastheshootingstar.

“Comeon,youtwo!Bequick!”itsaid,shiningfrostilyacrosstheroom.Michaelstaredatit.“Youmean–we’retocomewithyou?”saidJane.“Ofcourse.Andmindyouwrapup.It’schilly!”Theysprangoutoftheirbedsandranforovercoats.“Gotanymoney?”thestaraskedsharply.“There’stwopenceinmycoatpocket,”saidJanedoubtfully.“Coppers? They’ll be no good! Here, catch!” And with a little sizzling

sound,as thoughafireworksquibwasgoingoff, thestarsentoutashowerofsparks.Twoofthemshotrightacrosstheroomandlanded,oneinJane’shand

andoneinMichael’s.“Hurry,orwe’llbelate!”The star streaked across the room, through the closed door and down the

stairs,withJaneandMichael,tightlyclaspingtheirstarrymoney,afterit.“CanIbedreaming,Iwonder?”saidJanetoherself,asshehurriedthrough

thegarden.“Follow!” cried the star as, at the end of the Lane, where the frosty sky

seemed to come down to meet the pavement, it leapt into the air anddisappeared.

“Follow!Follow!”camethevoice.“Justasyouare,steponastar!”Jane seized Michael’s hand and raised her foot uncertainly from the

pavement.Toher surprise she found that the lowest star in the skywaseasilywithin her reach. She stepped up, balancing carefully. The star seemed quitesteadyandsolid.

“Comeon,Michael!”Theyhurriedupthefrostysky,leapingoverthegulfsbetweenthestars.“Follow!” cried the voice, far ahead of them. Jane paused, and glancing

down,caughtherbreathtoseehowhightheywere.CherryTreeLane–indeed,thewholeworld–wasassmallandsparklingasatoyonaChristmasTree.

“Areyougiddy,Michael?”shesaid,springingontoalarge,flatstar.“N-o-o.Notifyouholdmyhand.”Theypaused.Behindthemthegreatstairwayofstarsleddowntoearth,but

before them therewere nomore to be seen, nothing but a thick blue patch ofnakedsky.

Michael’shandtrembledinJane’s.“W-w-what shall we do now?” he said, in a voice that tried not to sound

frightened.“Walkup!Walkup!Walkupandseethesights!Payyourmoneyandtake

your choice! The two-Tailed Dragon or the Horse with Wings! MagicalMarvels!UniversalWonders!Walkup!Walkup!”

A loud voice seemed to be shouting these words in their very ears. Theystaredaboutthem.Therewasnosignofanybody.

“Step along, everybody! Don’t miss the Golden Bull and the ComicalClown!World-FamousTroupeofPerformingConstellations!Once seenneverforgotten!Pushasidethecurtainandwalkin!”

Again thevoice soundedclosebeside them. Janeputoutherhand.Tohersurpriseshefoundthatwhatseemedaplainandstarlesspatchofskywasreally

athick,darkcurtain.Shepressedagainstitandfeltityield,thengatheredupafoldofitand,pullingMichaelafterher,pushedthecurtainaside.

Abrightflareoflightdazzledthemforamoment.Whentheycouldseeagaintheyfoundthemselvesstandingattheedgeofa

ringof shining sand.Thegreat blue curtain enfolded the ringon all sides andwasdrawnuptoapointaboveasthoughitwereatent.

“Now,then!Doyouknowyouwerealmosttoolate?Gotyourtickets?”They turned. Beside them, his bright feet gleaming in the sand, stood a

strange and gigantic figure.He looked like a hunter, for a starry leopard-skinwas slung across his shoulders, and from his belt, decorated with three largestars,hungdownashiningsword.

“Tickets,please!”Heheldouthishand.“I’mafraidwehaven’tgotany.Yousee,wedidn’tknow—”beganJane.“Dear,dear,howcareless!Can’tletyouinwithoutaticket,youknow.But

what’sthatinyourhands?”Janeheldoutthegoldenspark.“Well,ifthatisn’taticket,I’dliketoknowwhatis!”Hepressedthespark

between his three large stars. “Another shiner for Orion’s belt!” he remarkedpleasantly.

“Isthatwhoyouare?”saidJane,staringathim.“Ofcourse–didn’tyouknow?But–excuseme,Imustattendtothedoor.

Movealong,please!”Thechildren,feelingrathershy,movedonhandinhand.Tierontierofseats

roseupatonesideofthemandattheotheragoldencordseparatedthemfromthe ring. And the ring itself was crowded with the strangest collection ofanimals,allshiningbrightasgold.AHorsewithgreatgoldWingsprancedbyonglittering hooves.A golden Fish threshed up the dust of the ringwith its fin.ThreeLittleKidswererushingwildlyaboutontwolegsinsteadoffour.AnditseemedtoJaneandMichael,as theylookedcloser, thatall theseanimalsweremadeofstars.ThewingsoftheHorsewereofstars,notfeathers;theThreeKidshadstarsontheirnosesandtails,andtheFishwascoveredwithshining,starryscales.

“Good evening!” it remarked, bowing politely to Jane as it threshed by.“Finenightfortheperformance!”

ButbeforeJanecouldreplyithadhurriedpast.“Howverystrange!”saidshe.“I’veneverseenanimalslikethisbefore!”“Whyshoulditbestrange?”saidavoicebehindthem.

Twochildren,bothboys a littleolder than Jane, stood there smiling.Theyweredressedinshiningtunicsandtheirpeakedcapshadeachastarforapom-pom.

“Ibegyourpardon,”saidJanepolitely.“But,yousee,we’reusedto–er–furandfeathers,andtheseanimalsseemtobemadeofstars.”

“But, of course they are!” said the first boy, opening his eyes very wide.“Whatelsecouldtheybemadeof?They’retheConstellations!”

“Buteventhesaw-dustisgold...”beganMichael.Thesecondboylaughed.“Star-dust,youmean!Haven’tyoubeentoaCircus

before?”“Notthiskind.”“Allcircusesarealike,”saidthefirstboy.“Ouranimalsarebrighter, that’s

all.”“Butwhoareyou?”demandedMichael.“TheTwins.He’sPolluxandI’mCastor.We’realwaystogether.”“LiketheSiameseTwins?”“Yes.Butmoreso.TheSiameseTwinsareonlyjoinedinbody,butwehave

a single heart andmind between us.We can think each other’s thoughts anddreameachother’sdreams.Butwemustn’tstayheretalking.We’vegottogetready – see you later! “And the Twins ran off and disappeared through acurtainedexit.

“Hullo!” said a gloomy voice from inside the ring. “I suppose you don’thappentohaveaCurrantBuninyourpocket?”

ADragonwithtwolargefinnytailslumberedtowardsthem,breathingsteamfromitsnostrils.

“I’msorry,wehaven’t,”saidJane.“Notabiscuitortwo?”saidtheDragoneagerly.Theyshooktheirheads.“I thoughtnot,”hegrumbled,droppingagolden tear.“It’salways theway

onCircusnights.Idon’tgetfedtillaftertheperformance.OnordinaryoccasionsIhaveabeautifulmaidenforsupper.”

Janedrewbackquietly,pullingMichaelwithher.“Oh,don’tbealarmed!”theDragonwentonreassuringly.“You’dbemuch

toosmall.Besides,you’rehumanandthereforetasteless.Theykeepmehungry,”he explained, “so that I shall do my tricks better. But after the show. . .” Agreedylightcameintohiseyesandheshuffledaway,lollingouthistongueandsaying“Yum-yum”inasoft,greedy,hissingvoice.

“I’mgladwe’re only human,” said Jane, turning toMichael. “Itwould bedreadfultobeeatenbyaDragon!”

ButMichaelhadhurriedonaheadandwastalkingeagerlytotheThreeLittleKids.

“Howdoesitgo?”hewasasking,asJanecaughtupwithhim.And the Eldest Kid, which apparently had offered to recite, cleared his

throat,andbegan:“Hornandtoe,Toeandhorn—”

“Now, Kids!” Orion’s voice interrupted loudly. “You can say your piecewhenthetimecomes.Getreadynow,we’regoingtobegin!Followme,please!”hesaidtothechildren.

They trotted obediently after the gleaming figure, and as they went thegolden animals turned to stare at them. They heard snatches of whisperedconversationastheypassed.

“Who’sthat?”saidastarryBull,asitstoppedpawingthestar-dusttogazeatthem. And a Lion turned and whispered something into the Bull’s ear. Theycaughtthewords“Banks”and“EveningOut”,butheardnomorethanthat.

Butnoweveryseatoneverytierwasfilledwithashining,starryfigure.Onlythreeemptyseatsremained,andtotheseOrionledthechildren.

“Hereyouare!Wekepttheseforyou.JustundertheRoyalBox.You’llseeperfectly.Look!they’rejustbeginning!”

And, turning, Jane andMichael saw that the ringwas empty.The animalshad hurried out while they had been climbing to their seats. The childrenunbuttonedtheirovercoatsandleantforwardexcitedly.

From somewhere came a fanfare of trumpets. A blast of music echoedthroughthetent,andabovethesoundcouldbeheardahigh,sweetneighing.

“Thecomets!”saidOrion,sittingdownbesideMichael.Awild,noddingheadappearedattheentrance,andonebyoneninecomets

gallopedintothering,theirmanesbraidedwithgold,andsilverplumesontheirheads.

Suddenly themusic rose toagreat roarof sound,andwithonemovement thecomets dropped upon their knees and bowed their heads. Awarm gust of aircamewaftingacrossthering.

“Howhotit’sgetting!”criedJane.“Hush!He’scoming!”criedOrion.

“Who?”whisperedMichael.“TheRing-Master!”Orionnoddedtothefarentrance.Alightshonethere,eclipsingthelightof

theconstellations.Itgrewsteadilybrighter.“Hereheis!”Orion’svoicehadacurioussoftnessinit.And as he spoke there appeared between the curtains a towering, golden

figurewithflamingcurlsuponhisheadandawide,radiantface.Andwithhimcame a great swell of warmth that lapped the ring and spread out in ever-widening circles until it surrounded Jane and Michael and Orion. Half-consciously, made dreamy by that warmth, the children slipped off theirovercoats.

Orionsprangtohisfeetholdinghisrighthandabovehishead.“Hail, Sun, hail!” he cried.And, from the stars in the tiered seats, the cry

cameechoing:“Hail!”The Sun glanced round the wide dark-tented ring and, in answer to the

greeting, swung his long gold whip three times about his head. As the lashturned in theair therewasaquick,sharpcrack.Atonce thecometssprangupand cantered out, their braided tails swingingwildly, their plumed heads highanderect.

“Here we are again, here we are again!” cried a loud, hoarse voice. Andbouncingintotheringcameacomicalfigurewithsilver-paintedface,wideredmouthandhugesilveryfrillsabouthisneck.

“Saturn–theClown!”whisperedOrionbehindhishandtothechildren.“WhenisaDoornotaDoor?”demandedtheClownoftheaudience,turning

overandstandingononehand.“Whenit’sajar!”answeredJaneandMichaelloudly.AdisappointedlookcameovertheClown’sface.“Oh,youknowit!”hesaidreproachfully.“That’snotfair!”TheSuncrackedhiswhip.“All right, all right!” said the Clown. “I’ve got another.Why does aHen

crosstheRoad?”heasked,sittingdownwithabumponthestar-dust.“Togettotheotherside!”criedJaneandMichaeltogether.TheswingingwhipcaughttheClownroundtheknees.“O-o-h! Don’t do that! You’ll hurt poor Joey. Look at them laughing up

there!ButI’llfixthem.Listen!”Heturnedadoublesomersaultintheair.“WhatkindofjamdidtheChickenaskforwhenitcameoutoftheEgg?Tell

methat!”“Mar–me–lade!”yelledMichaelandJane.“Be off with you!” cried the Sun, catching his whip about the Clown’s

shoulders;andtheClownwentboundingroundthering,headoverheals,crying:“PooroldJoey!He’sfailedagain!Theyknowallhisbestjokes,pooroldfellow,poorold–oh,begpardon,Miss,begpardon.”

Hebrokeoff,forhehadsomersaultedagainstPegasus,theWingedHorse,asitenteredcarryingabright,spanglyfigureonitsback.

“Venus,theEveningStar,”explainedOrion.Breathlessly,JaneandMichaelwatchedthestarryfigureridelightlythrough

the ring. Round and round she went, bowing to the Sun as she passed, andpresentlytheSun,standinginherpath,heldupagreathoopcoveredwiththin,goldpaper.

Shebalancedonher toes for amoment. “Hup!” said theSun.AndVenus,withtheutmostgrace,jumpedthroughthehoopandlandedagainonthebackofPegasus.

“Hurrah!” cried Jane andMichael; and the audience of stars echoed back“Hurrah!”

“Letmetry!LetpoorJoeyhaveago,justalittleonetomakeacatlaugh!”criedtheClown.ButVenusonlytossedherheadandlaughedandrodeoutofthering.

ShehadhardlydisappearedbeforetheThreeKidscameprancingin,lookingrathershyandbowingawkwardlytotheSun.Thentheystoodontheirhindlegsinarowbeforehim,and,inhigh,thinvoices,recitedthefollowingsong:“Hornandhoof,

Hoofandhorn,EverynightThreeKidsareborn,EachwithaTwinklyNose,EachwithaTwinklyTail.

Blueandblack,BlackandblueIstheeveningskyAstheKidscomethrough,EachwithaTwinklyNose,EachwithaTwinklyTail.

GayandbrightAndwhiteasMayTheThreeKidsdrinkAttheMilkyWay,EachwithaTwinklyNose,EachwithaTwinklyTail.

AllnightlongFromDusktillDawnTheThreeKidsgrazeOnthestarrylawn,EachwithaTwinklyNose,Eachwithatwink-ker-lyT-a-i-l!”

Theydrewoutthelastlinewithalongbaa-ingsoundanddancedout.“What’snext?”askedMichael.ButtherewasnoneedforOriontoreply,for

theDragonwasalreadyinthering,hisnostrilssteamingandhistwofinnytailstossingupthestar-dust.

After him came Castor and Pollux, carrying between them a large, white,shiningglobefaintlyfiguredwithadesignofmountainsandrivers.

“ItlooksliketheMoon!”saidJane.“Ofcourseit’stheMoon!”saidOrion.The Dragon was now on its hind legs and the Twins were balancing the

Moon on his nose. It bobbed up and down uncertainly for amoment. Then itsettled, and the Dragon began to waltz. Round he went, very carefully andsteadily,once,twice,threetimes.

“Thatwilldo!”saidtheSun,crackinghiswhip.AndtheDragon,withasighofrelief,shookitsheadandsenttheMoonflyingacrossthering.Itlanded,withabumpythud,rightinMichael’slap.

“Goodgracious!”saidhe,verystartled.“WhatshallIdowiththis?”“Whateveryoulike,”saidOrion.“Ithoughtyouaskedforit.”AndsuddenlyMichaelrememberedhisconversationthateveningwithMary

Poppins.HehadaskedfortheMoonthenandnowhehadgotit.Andhedidn’tknowwhattodowithit.Howveryawkward!

But he had no time toworry about it, for the Sunwas cracking his whipagain. Michael settled the Moon on his knee, folded his arms around it andturnedbacktothering.

“Whataretwoandthree?”theSunwasaskingtheDragon.Thetwotailslashedfivetimesonthestar-dust.“Andsixandfour?”TheDragonthoughtforaminute.One,two,three,four,

five,six,seven,eight,nine—Thetailsstopped.“Wrong!”saidtheSun.“Quitewrong!Nosupperforyoutonight!”AtthattheDragonburstintotearsandhurriedfromtheringsobbing.

“Alasandalack,Boo-hoo,boo-hoo!”

hecriedbitterly.

“IwantedaMaidenServedinastew,Asucculent,seasoned,tastygirlWithastarforhereyeAndacometforcurl,AndIwouldn’thavemindedifthere’dbeentwo,ForI’mawfullyhungry.

Boo-hoo!Boo-hoo!”

“Won’t they give him even a smallmaiden?” saidMichael, feeling rathersorryfortheDragon.

“Hush!”saidOrion,asadazzlingformsprangintothering.When the cloud of star-dust had cleared away, the children drew back,

startled.ItwastheLion,andhewasgrowlingfiercely.MichaelmovedalittleclosertoJane.The Lion, crouching, moved forward slowly till he reached the Sun. His

long,red tonguewentout, lollingdangerously.But theSunonly laughed,and,liftinghisfoot,hegentlykickedtheLion’sgoldennose.Witharoar,asthoughhehadbeenburnt,thestarrybeastsprangup.

TheSun’swhipcrackedfiercelyontheair.Slowly,unwillingly,growlinginhis throat, theLion roseonhishind legs.TheSun tossedhimaskipping-ropeand, holding it betweenhis forepaws, theLionbegan to sing: “I am theLion,Leo-the-Lion,

Thebeautiful,suitable,DandyLion.Lookformeupinthestarryskyon

Clear,coldnightsatthefootofOrion,Glimmering,glittering,gleamingthere,TheHandsomestSightintheatmosphere!”

Andat theendof the songhe swung the ropeandskipped round the ring,rollinghiseyesandgrowlinghorribly.

“Hurryup,Leo, it’sour turn!”A rumblingvoice sounded frombehind thecurtains.

“Comeon,youbigcat!”ashrillvoiceadded.TheLiondroppedhisskipping-ropeand,witharoar,sprangat thecurtain,

butthetwocreatureswhoenterednextsteppedcarefullyasidesothattheLionmissedthem.

“GreatBearandLittleBear!”saidOrion.SlowlythetwoBearslumberedin,holdingpawsandwaltzingtoslowmusic.

Round the ring theywent, lookingvery serious and solemn, andat the endoftheirdance theymadeaclumsycurtsey to theaudienceandremarked:“We’retheGrufflyBearandtheSqueakyBear,

OConstellations,hasanyonehereAHoneycomb-SquarethattheycanspareFortheSqueakyBearandtheGrufflyBearToaddtothestoreintheirdarkbluelairOrto–

orto–orto—”

TheGreatBearand theLittleBearstammeredandstumbledand lookedateachother.

“Don’tyourememberwhatcomesnext?”rumbledtheGrufflyBearbehindhispaw.

“No,Idon’t!”TheSqueakyBearshookhisheadandstaredanxiouslydownatthestar-dustasthoughhethoughtthemissingwordsmightbethere.

But at that moment the audience saved the situation. A shower ofHoneycombscamehurtlingdown,tumblingabouttheearsofthetwoBears.TheGrufflyBearand theSqueakyBear, lookingveryrelieved,stoopedandpickedthemup.

“Good!”rumbledtheGreatBear,digginghisnoseintoacomb.“Ex-cellent!”squeakedtheLittleBear,tryinganother.Then,withtheirnoses

streamingwithhoney,theybowedsolemnlytotheSunandlumberedout.TheSunwavedhishandandthemusicrangtriumphantlythroughthetent.“The signal for the Big Parade,” said Orion, as Castor and Pollux came

dancinginwithalltheConstellationsattheirheels.The Bears came back, waltzing clumsily together; and Leo-the-Lion, still

growlingangrily,camesniffingattheirheels.InsweptastarrySwan,singingahigh,clearchant.

“TheSwanSong,”saidOrion.AndaftertheSwancametheGoldenFish,leadingtheThreeKidsbyasilver

string,andtheDragonfollowed,stillsobbingbitterly.Aloudandterriblesoundalmostdrownedthemusic.ItwasthebellowingofTaurus-the-Bull,asheleaptinto the ring, trying to tossSaturn theClownfromhisback.Oneafteranotherthecreaturescamerushingintotaketheirplaces.Theringwasaswayingmassofgoldenhornsandhoovesandmanesandtails.

“Isthistheend?”Janewhispered.“Almost,” repliedOrion. “They’re finishingearly tonight.Shehas tobe in

byhalf-pastten.”“Whohas?”askedboththechildrentogether.ButOriondidnothear.Hewas

standingupinhisseatwavinghisarm.“Comealong,bequickthere,stepalong!”hecalled.AndincameVenusridingherWingedHorse,followedbyastarrySerpent

that,withitstailtuckedintoitsmouth,bowledalongtheringlikeahoop.Lastofallcamethecomets,prancingproudlythroughthecurtains,swinging

theirbraided tails.Themusicwas loudernowandwilder,andagoldensmokerose up from the star-dust as the Constellations, shouting, singing, roaring,growling,formedthemselvesintoaring.Andinthecentre,asthoughtheydarednotgotoonearhispresence,theyleftaclear,barecirclefortheSun.

Hestood,toweringabovethemall,hiswhipfoldedinhisarms.Henoddedlightly to each animal as it passed him with bent head. And then Jane andMichaelsawthatbrightgazeliftfromtheringandwanderroundtheaudienceofstars until it turned in the direction of the Royal Box. They felt themselvesgrowingwarmerashisraysfelluponthemand,withastartofsurprise,theysawhimraisehiswhipandnodhisheadtowardsthem.

Asthelashswungup,everystarandconstellationturnedinitstracks.Then,withonemovement,everyoneofthembowed.

“Are they – can they be bowing tous?”whisperedMichael, clutching theMoonmoretightly.

Afamiliar laugh soundedbehind them.They turnedquickly.There, sittingalone in theRoyalBox,wasawell-known figure ina strawhatandbluecoatwithagoldlocketrounditsneck.

“Hail,MaryPoppins,hail!”camethemassedvoicesfromtheCircusRing.JaneandMichaellookedateachother.SothiswaswhatMaryPoppinsdid

onherEveningOut!Theycouldhardlybelievetheireyes–andyet, therewasMaryPoppins,aslargeaslife,andlookingverysuperior.

“Hail!”camethecryagain.MaryPoppinsraisedherhandingreeting.Then, steppingprimlyand importantly, shemovedoutof thebox.Shedid

notseemin the least surprised toseeJaneandMichael,but shesniffedasshewentpast.

“Howoften,”sheremarkedtothemacrossOrion’shead,“haveyoubeentoldthatitisrudetostare?”

Shepassedonanddowntothering.TheGreatBearliftedthegoldenrope.TheConstellationsdrewapartandtheSunmovedapaceforward.Hespoke,andhisvoicewaswarmandfullofsweetness.

“MaryPoppins,mydear,youarewelcome!”MaryPoppinsdroppedtoherkneesinadeepcurtsey.“The Planets hail you, and the Constellations give you greeting. Rise,my

child!”Shestoodup,bendingherheadrespectfullybeforehim.“Foryou,MaryPoppins,”theSunwenton,“theStarshavegatheredinthe

darkblue tent, for you theyhavebeenwithdrawn tonight from shiningon theworld.Itrust,therefore,thatyouhaveenjoyedyourEveningOut!”

“Ineverhadabetterone.Never!”saidMaryPoppins, liftingherheadandsmiling.

“Dearchild!”TheSunbowed.“Butnowthesandsofnightarerunningoutand youmust be in by half-past ten. So, before you depart, let us all, for oldtimes’sake,dancetheDanceoftheWheelingSky!”

“Downyougo!” saidOrion to theastonishedchildren,giving thema littlepush.Theystumbleddownthestairsandalmostfellintothestar-dustring.

“Andwhere,mayIask,areyourmanners?”hissedthewell-knownvoiceinJane’sear.

“WhatmustIdo?”stammeredJane.Mary Poppins glared at her andmade a littlemovement towards the Sun.

And,suddenly,Janerealised.ShegrabbedMichael’sarm,and,kneeling,pulled

himdownbesideher.Thewarmth from theSun lappedabout themwith fierysweetness.

“Rise,children,”hesaidkindly.“Youareverywelcome.Iknowyouwell–Ihavelookeddownuponyoumanyasummer’sday!”

Scramblingtoherfeet,Janemovedtowardshim,buthiswhipheldherback.“Touchmenot,ChildofEarth!”hecriedwarningly,wavingher furtheraway.“LifeissweetandnomanmaycomeneartheSun–touchmenot!”

“ButareyoutrulytheSun!”demandedMichael,staringathim.TheSunflungouthishand.“OStars andConstellations,”he said, “tellme this.Whoam I?This child

wouldknow!”“LordoftheStars,OSun!”answeredathousandstarryvoices.“HeisKingoftheSouthandNorth,”criedOrion,“andRuleroftheEastand

West.Hewalks theouter rimof theworldand thePolesmelt inhisglory.Hedrawsuptheleaffromtheseedandcoversthelandwithsweetness.HeistrulytheSun.”

TheSunsmiledacrossatMichael.“Nowdoyoubelieve?”Michaelnodded.“Then,strikeup!Andyou,Constellations,chooseyourPartners!”TheSunwaved hiswhip.Themusic began again, very swift and gay and

dancey.MichaelbegantobeattimewithhisfeetashehuggedtheMooninhisarms.Buthesqueezeditalittletootightlyfor,suddenly,therewasaloudpopandtheMoonbegantodwindle.

“Oh!Oh!Lookwhat’shappening!”criedMichael,almostweeping.Down,down,down,shranktheMoonuntilitwasassmallasasoapbubble,

thenitwasonlyawispofshininglightandthen–hishandscloseduponemptyair.

“Itcouldn’thavebeenarealMoon,couldit?”hedemanded.JaneglancedquestioninglyattheSunacrossthelittlestretchofstar-dust.Heflungbackhisflamingheadandsmiledgentlyather.“What is realandwhat isnot?CanyoutellmeorIyou?Perhapsweshall

neverknowmorethanthis–that tothinkathingis tomakeit true.Andso, ifMichaelthoughthehadtherealMooninhisarms–why,then,hehadindeed.”

“Then,”saidJanewonderingly,“isittruethatweareheretonight,ordoweonlythinkweare?”

TheSunsmiledagain,alittlesadly.

“Child,”hesaid,“seeknofurther!Fromthebeginningoftheworldallmenhaveaskedthatquestion.AndI,whoamLordoftheSky–evenIdonotknowtheanswer.IamonlycertainthatthisistheEveningOut,thattheConstellationsareshininginyoureyes,anditistrueifyouthinkitis...”

“Come,dancewithus,JaneandMichael!”criedtheTwins.AndJaneforgotherquestionasthefourofthemswungoutintotheringin

time with the heavenly tune. But they were hardly halfway round before shestumbledandstoodstill.

“Look!Look!Sheisdancingwithhim!”Michaelfollowedhergazeandstoodstillonhisshort,fatlegs,staring.Mary Poppins and the Sunwere dancing together.But not as Jane and he

weredancingwiththeTwins,breasttobreastandfoottofoot.MaryPoppinsandtheSunneveroncetouched,butwaltzedwitharmsoutstretched,oppositeeachother,keepingperfecttimetogetherinspiteofthespacebetweenthem.

AboutthemwheeledthedancingConstellations,Venuswithherarmsroundthe neck of Pegasus, the Bull and the Lion arm-in-arm, and the Three Kidsprancinginarow.Theirmovingbrightnessdazzledthechildren’seyesastheystoodinthestar-dustgazing.

Thensuddenly thedanceslackenedand themusicdiedaway.TheSunandMaryPoppins,togetheryetapart,stoodstill.Andatthesametimeeveryanimalpausedinthedanceandstoodpatientlyinitstracks.Thewholeringwassilent.

TheSunspoke.“Now,”hesaidquietly,“thetimehascome.Backtoyourplacesinthesky,

myStars andConstellations.Homeand to sleep,mydear threemortal guests.MaryPoppins,goodnight!IdonotsayGoodbyeforweshallmeetagain.But–foralittletime–Farewell,Farewell!”

Then,withalargeandgraciousmovementofhishead,theSunleantacrossthe space that separated him from Mary Poppins and, with great ceremony,carefully,lightly,swiftly,hebrushedhercheekwithhislips.

“Ah!”criedtheConstellationsenviously.“TheKiss!TheKiss!”Butasshereceivedit,MaryPoppins’handflewtohercheekprotectingly,as

thoughthekisshadburntit.Alookofpaincrossedherfaceforamoment.Then,withasmile,sheliftedherheadtotheSun.

“Farewell!”shesaidsoftly,inavoiceJaneandMichaelhadneverheardheruse.

“Away!” cried the Sun, stretching out his whip. And obediently theConstellations began to rush from the ring. Castor and Pollux joined arms

protectinglyaboutthechildren,thattheGreatBearmightnotbrushthemashelumberedby,northeBull’shornsgrazethem,northeLiondothemharm.

ButinJane’searsandMichael’sthesoundsoftheringweregrowingfainter.Their heads fell sideways, dropping heavily upon their shoulders. Other armscameroundthemand,asifinadream,theyheardthevoiceofVenussaying–“Givethemtome!IamtheHomewardStar.IbringthelambtothefoldandthechildtoitsMother.”

Theygavethemselvesuptoherrockingarms,swinginglightlywithherasaboatswingswiththetide.

Toandfro,toandfro.Alightflickeredacrosstheireyes.WasthattheDragongoingbrightlybyor

theNurserycandleheldgutteringabovethem?Toandfro,toandfro.Theynestleddown into soft, sweetwarmth.Was it the lappingheatof the

Sun?OrtheeiderdownonaNurserybed?“IthinkitistheSun,”thoughtJanedreamily.“Ithinkitismyeiderdown,”thoughtMichael.Andafar-awayvoice,likeadream,likeabreath,criedfaintly,faintly–“Itis

whateveryouthinkitis.Farewell...Farewell...”Michaelwokewithashout.Hehadsuddenlyrememberedsomething.“Myovercoat!Myovercoat!IleftitundertheRoyalBox!”Heopenedhiseyes.Hesawthepaintedduckattheendofhisbed.Hesaw

themantelpiecewiththeClockandtheRoyalDoultonBowlandtheJam-jarfullofgreenleaves.Andhesaw,hangingonitsusualhook,hisovercoatwithhishatjustaboveit.

“Butwhereare theStars?”hecalled,sittingup inbedandstaring.“IwanttheStarsandConstellations!”

“Oh?Indeed?”saidMaryPoppins,coming into the roomand lookingverystiffandstarchedinhercleanapron.“Isthatall?Iwonderyoudon’taskfortheMoontoo!”

“ButIdid!”heremindedherreproachfully.“AndIgotittoo!ButIsqueezedittootightanditbust!”

“Burst!”“Well,burst,then!”“Stuff!”shesaid,tossinghimhisdressing-gown.“Is itmorningalready?”saidJane,gazingroundtheroomandfeelingvery

surprised to find herself in her own bed. “But how did we get back? I was

dancingwiththeTwinstars,CastorandPollux.”“You two and your stars!” said Mary Poppins crossly, pulling back the

blankets.“I’llstaryou.Spit-spotoutofbed,please!I’mlatealready.”“I suppose you danced too long last night,” said Michael, bundling

unwillinglyoutontothefloor.“Danced?Humph,alotofdancingIgetachancefor,lookingafterthefive

worstchildrenintheworld!”MaryPoppinssniffedandlookedverysorryforherself,asifshehadn’thad

enoughsleep.“Butweren’tyoudancing–onyourEveningOut?”saidJane.Forshewas

rememberinghowMaryPoppinsandtheSunhadwaltzedtogetherinthecentreofthestar-dustring.

Mary Poppins opened her eyes wide. “I hope,” she remarked, drawingherselfuphaughtily,“IhavesomethingbettertodowithmyEveningOutthantogoroundandroundlikeaCareeringWhirligig”

“But I saw you!” said Jane. “Up in the sky. You jumped down from theRoyalBoxandwenttodanceinthering.”

Holding their breaths, she andMichael gazed atMaryPoppins as her faceflushedredwithfury.

“You,”shesaidshortly,“havebeenhavinganicesortofnightmare,Imustsay.Whoeverheardofme,apersoninmyposition,jumpingdownfrom—”

“ButIhadthenightmaretoo,”interruptedMichael,“anditwaslovely.JaneandIsawyou!”

“What,jumping?”“Er–yes–anddancing.”“Inthesky?”Hetrembledasshecametowardshim.Herfacewasdarkand

terrible.“Onemoreinsult...”shesaidthreateningly,“justonemoreandyou’llfindyourselfdancinginthecorner.SoIwarnyou!”

He hurriedly looked the other way, and Mary Poppins, her very aproncracklingwithanger,flouncedacrosstheroomtowakeuptheTwins.

Jane sat on her bed staring at Mary Poppins as she bent over the cots.Michael slowly put on his slippers and sighed. “Wemust have dreamt it afterall,”hesaidsadly.“Iwishithadbeentrue.”

“Itwas true,” said Jane inacautiouswhisper,hereyes still fixedonMaryPoppins.

“Howdoyouknow?Areyousure?”“Look!” Mary Poppins’ head was bent over Barbara’s cot. Jane nodded

towardsit.“Lookatherface!”shewhisperedinhisear.Michael regarded Mary Poppins’ face steadily. There was the black hair

loopedbehind theears, there thefamiliarblueeyesso likeaDutchdoll’s,andthereweretheturned-upnoseandthered,shinycheeks.

“Ican’tseeanything—”hebegan,andbrokeoffsuddenly.Fornow,asMaryPoppinsturnedherhead,hesawwhatJanehadseen.

Burningbright,intheverycentreofhercheek,wasasmall,fierymark.And,looking closer,Michael saw that it was curiously shaped. It was round, withcurly,flame-shapededges,andlikeaverysmallsun.

“Yousee?”saidJanesoftly.“That’swherehekissedher.”Michaelnodded–once,twice,threetimes.

“Yes,”hesaid,standingverystillandstaringatMaryPoppins.“Idosee.Ido...”

ChapterEight

BALLOONSANDBALLOONS

“I WONDER, Mary Poppins,” said Mrs Banks, hurrying into the Nursery onemorning,“ifyouwillhavetimetodosomeshoppingforme?”

And she gave Mary Poppins a sweet, nervous smile, as though she wereuncertainwhattheanswerwouldbe.

MaryPoppinsturnedfromthefirewhereshewasairingAnnabel’sclothes.“Imight,”sheremarked,notveryencouragingly.“Oh,Isee...”saidMrsBanks,andshelookedmorenervousthanever.“Or again – I might not,” continued Mary Poppins, busily shaking out a

woollenjacketandhangingitoverthefire-guard.“Well–incaseyoudidhavetime,hereisthelistandhereisaPoundNote.

And,ifthereisanychangeleftover,youmayspendit!”MrsBanksputthemoneyonthechestofdrawers.MaryPoppinssaidnothing.Shejustsniffed.“Oh!” saidMrs Banks, suddenly remembering something, “and the Twins

mustwalk today,Mary Poppins.RobertsonAy sat down on the perambulatorthismorning.Hemistookitforanarmchair.Soitwillhavetobemended.Canyoumanagewithoutit–andcarryAnnabel?”

MaryPoppinsopenedhermouthandcloseditagainwithasnap.“I,”sheremarkedtartly,“canmanageanything–andmore,ifIchoose.”“I–Iknow!”saidMrsBanks,edgingtowardsthedoor.“YouareaTreasure

–aperfectTreasure–anabsolutelywonderfulandaltogethersuitableTreas—”Hervoicediedawayasshehurrieddownstairs.

“Andyet–andyet–Isometimeswishshewasn’t!”MrsBanksremarkedtoher great-grandmother’s portrait as she dusted theDrawing-room. “Shemakesmefeelsmallandsilly,asthoughIwerealittlegirlagain.AndI’mnot!”MrsBankstossedherheadandflickedaspeckofdustfromtheSpottedCowonthemantelpiece.“I’maveryimportantpersonandtheMotheroffivechildren.Sheforgetsthat!”

Andshewentonwithherwork,thinkingoutallthethingsshewouldliketo

saytoMaryPoppins,butknowingallthetimethatshewouldneverdare.MaryPoppinsput the listand thePoundNote intoherbag,and inno time

shehadpinnedonherhatandwashurryingoutofthehousewithAnnabelinherarms, and Jane and Michael, each holding the hand of a Twin, following asquicklyastheycould.

“Bestfootforward,please!”sheremarked,turningsternlyuponthem.Theyquickenedtheirpace,draggingthepoorTwinswithashufflingsound

along the pavement. They forgot that John’s arms and Barbara’s were beingpulledverynearlyoutoftheirsockets.TheironlythoughtwastokeepupwithMaryPoppinsandseewhatshedidwiththechangefromthePoundNote.

“Twopacketsofcandles,fourpoundsofrice,threeofbrownsugar,andsixof caster; two tins of tomato-soup and a hearth-brush; a pair of housemaid’sgloves,halfastickofsealing-wax,onebagofflour,onefirelighter,twoboxesofmatches,twocauliflowersandabundleofrhubarb!”

MaryPoppins,hurryingintothefirstshopbeyondthepark,readoutthelist.TheGrocer,whowasfatandbaldandrathershortofbreath,tookdownthe

orderasquicklyashecould.“Onebagofhousemaid’sgloves...”hewrote,nervouslylickingthewrong

endofhisbluntlittlepencil.“Flour,Isaid!”MaryPoppinsremindedhimtartly.TheGrocerblushedasredasamulberry.“Oh, I’msorry.Nooffencemeant, I’msure.Lovelyday, isn’t it?Yes.My

mistake.Onebagofhouse–er–flour.”Hehurriedlyscribbleditdownandadded:“Twoboxesofhearth-brushes—”“Matches!”snappedMaryPoppins.TheGrocer’shandstrembledonhispad.“Oh,ofcourse.Itmustbethepencil–itseemstowriteallthewrongthings.

Imustgetanewone.Matches,ofcourse!Andthenyousaid...?”Helookedupnervouslyandthendownagainathislittlestubofpencil.

Mary Poppins unfolded the list, read it out again in an angry, impatientvoice.

“Sorry,” said the Grocer, as she came to the end, “but the rhubarb’s off.Woulddamsonsdo?”

“Certainlynot.ApacketofTapioca.”“Oh, no, Mary Poppins – not Tapioca. We had that last week,” Michael

remindedher.

Sheglancedathimandthenat theGrocer,andbythelookinhereyetheybothknew that therewasnohope.Tapioca itwouldbe.TheGrocer, blushingredderthanever,wenttogetit.

“Therewon’tbeanychangeleftifshegoesonlikethis,”saidJane,watchingthepileofgroceriesbeingheapeduponthecounter.

“Shemight have enough left over for an ounce ofAcid-drops – but that’sall,”Michaelsaidmournfully,asMaryPoppinstookthePoundNoteoutofherbag.

“Thankyou,”shesaid,astheGrocerhandedherthechange.“Thank you!” he remarked politely, leaning his arms on the counter. He

smiledatherinamannerthatwasmeanttobepleasant,andcontinued,“Keepsnice and fine, doesn’t it?” He spoke proudly, as though he, himself, hadcompletechargeoftheweatherandhadmadeitfineforheronpurpose.

“Wewantrain!”saidMaryPoppins,snappinghermouthandherhandbagatthesametime.

“That’s right,” said theGrocer hurriedly, trying not to offend her. “Rain’salwayspleasant.”

“Never!” retortedMary Poppins, tossingAnnabel into amore comfortablepositiononherarm.

TheGrocer’sfacefell.Nothinghesaidwasright.“Ihope,”heremarked,openingthedoorcourteouslyforMaryPoppins,“that

weshallbefavouredwithyourfurthercustom,Madam.”“Goodday!”MaryPoppinssweptout.TheGrocersighed.“Here,”hesaid,scrabblinghurriedly inaboxnear thedoor.“Takethese.I

meantnoharm,trulyIdidn’t.Ionlywantedtooblige.”JaneandMichaelheldouttheirhands.TheGrocerslippedthreeChocolate-

dropsintoMichael’shandandtwoinJane’s.“Oneforeachofyou,onefor the twolittleones,andonefor–”henodded

towardsMaryPoppins’retreatingfigure–“her!”They thanked the Grocer and hurried afterMary Poppins, munching their

Chocolate-drops.“What’s thatyou’re eating?” shedemanded, lookingat thedark rim round

Michael’smouth.“Chocolates.TheGrocergaveusoneeach.Andoneforyou.”Heheldout

thelastDrop.Itwasverysticky.“Likehisimpudence!”saidMaryPoppins,butshetooktheChocolate-drop

andateitintwobitesasthoughshethoroughlyenjoyedit.“Istheremuchchangeleft?”enquiredMichaelanxiously.“That’sasmaybe.”Sheswept into theChemist’sandcameoutwithacakeofsoap,amustard

plasterandatubeoftoothpaste.JaneandMichael,waitingwiththeTwinsatthedoor,sighedheavily.ThePoundNote,theyknew,wasdisappearingfast.“She’llhardlyhaveenoughleftoverforastamp,and,evenifshehas, that

won’tbeveryinteresting,”saidJane.“NowtotheCakeshop!”saidMaryPoppins,examiningherlistanddarting

inatadarkdoor.ThroughthewindowtheycouldseeherpointingtoapileofMacaroons.Theassistanthandedheralargebag.

“She’s bought a dozen at least,” said Jane sadly. Usually, the sight ofanybodybuyingaMacaroonfilledthemwithdelight,buttodaytheywishedandwishedthattherewasn’taMacaroonintheworld.

“Nowwhere?”demandedMichael,hoppingfromonelegtotheotherinhisanxiety to know if there was any of the Pound Note left. He felt sure therecouldn’tbe,andyet–hehoped.

“Home,”saidMaryPoppins.Their facesfell.Therewasnochange,afterall,notevenapenny,orMary

Poppinswouldsurelyhavespentit.ButMaryPoppins,asshedumpedthebagofMacaroons onAnnabel’s chest and strode ahead, had such a look on her facethat theydidnotdare tomakeanyremark.Theyonlyknewthat, foronce,shehaddisappointedthemandtheyfelttheycouldnotforgiveher.

“But– this isn’t thewayhome!”complainedMichael,dragginghis feetsothathistoesscrapedalongthepavement.

“Isn’ttheParkonthewayhome,I’dliketoknow?”shedemanded,turningfiercelyuponhim.

“Yes–but—”“TherearemorewaysthanoneofgoingthroughaPark,”sheremarked,and

ledthemroundtoasideofittheyhadneverseenbefore.The sun shone warmly down. The tall trees bowed over the railings and

rustledtheirleaves.Upinthebranchestwosparrowswerefightingoverapieceof straw. A fat squirrel hopped along the stone balustrade and sat up on hishindquarters,askingfornuts.

Buttodaythesethingsdidnotmatter.JaneandMichaelwerenotinterested.All they could think of was the fact that Mary Poppins had spent the whole

PoundNoteonunimportantthingsandhadkeptnothingover.Tiredanddisappointed,theytrailedafterhertowardstheGates.Overtheentrance,anewonetheyhadneverseenbefore,spreadatallstone

arch,splendidlycarvedwithaLionandaUnicorn.Andbeneaththearchsatanold,oldwoman,herfaceasgreyasthestoneitself,andaswitheredandwrinkledasawalnut.Onherlittleoldkneessheheldatraypiledupwithwhatlookedlikesmall coloured strips of rubber; and above her head, tied firmly to the Parkrailings,aclusterofbrightballoonsbobbedandbouncedandbounded.

“Balloons!Balloons!” shouted Jane.And, loosening her hand from John’ssticky fingers, she ran towards the old woman. Michael bounded after her,leavingBarbaraaloneandlostinthemiddleofthepavement.

“Well,mydeary-ducks!”saidtheBalloonWoman,inanold,crackedvoice.“Which will you have? Take your choice! And take your time!” She leantforwardandshookhertrayinfrontofthem.

“Weonlycametolook,”Janeexplained.“We’vegotnomoney.”“Tch,tch,tch!What’sthegoodoflookingataballoon?You’vegottofeela

balloon,you’vegottoholdaballoon,you’vegottoknowaballoon.Comingtolook!Whatgoodwillthatdoyou?”

Theoldwoman’svoicecrackledlikealittleflame.Sherockedherselfonherstool.

JaneandMichaelstaredatherhelplessly.Theyknewshewasspeakingthetruth.Butwhatcouldtheydo?

“When I was a girl,” the old woman went on, “people really understoodballoons. They didn’t just come and look! They took – yes, they took! Therewasn’t a child thatwent through thesegateswithoutone.Theywouldn’t haveinsultedtheBalloonWomaninthosedaysbyjustlookingandpassingby!”

Shebentherheadbackandgazedupatthebouncingballoonsaboveher.“Ah,mylovesanddoves!”shecried.“Theydon’tunderstandyouanymore

–nobodybut theoldwomanunderstands.You’reold-fashionednow.Nobodywantsyou!”

“Wedowantone!”saidMichaelstoutly.“Butwehaven’tanymoney.ShespentthewholePoundNoteon—”

“Andwhois‘she’?”enquiredavoiceclosebehindhim.Heturned,andhisfacewentpink.“Imeant–er–thatyou–er—”hebegannervously.“Speakpolitelyofyourbetters!”remarkedMaryPoppins,and,stretchingher

armoverhisshoulder,sheputhalf-a-crownontheBalloonWoman’stray.

Michaelstaredatit,shiningthereamongthelimpunblownballoons.“Then therewas some change left over!” said Jane, wishing she had not

thoughtsocrosslyofMaryPoppins.TheBalloonWoman,heroldeyessparkling,pickedupthecoinandgazedat

itforalongmoment.“Shiny, shiny, King-and-Crown!” she cried. “I haven’t seen one of these

since I was a girl.” She cocked her head at Mary Poppins. “Do you want aballoon,mylass?”

“Ifyouplease!”saidMaryPoppins,withhaughtypoliteness.“Howmany,mydeary-duck,howmany?”“Four!”JaneandMichael,almost jumpingoutof theirskins, turnedandflungtheir

armsroundMaryPoppins.“Oh,MaryPoppins,doyoumeanit?Oneeach?Really?–Really?”“IhopeIalwayssaywhatImean,”shesaidprimly,lookingveryconceited.Theysprang towards the trayandbegan to turnover thecolouredballoon-

cases.The Balloon Woman slipped the silver coin into a pocket of her skirt.

“There,myshiny!”shesaid,givingthepocketalovingpat.Then,withexcited,tremblinghands,shehelpedthechildrenturnoverthecases.

“Go carefully, my Deary-Ducks!” she warned them. “Remember, there’sballoons and balloons. Take your choice and take your time. There’smany achildgotthewrongballoonandhislifewasneverthesameafter.”

“I’llhavethisone!”saidMichael,choosingayellowonewithredmarkings.“Well, let me blow it up and you can see if it’s the right one,” said the

BalloonWoman.She took it fromhim andwith one gigantic puff blew it up.Zip!There it

was.Youcouldhardlythinksuchatinypersoncouldhavesomuchbreathinherbody. The yellow balloon, neatly marked with red, bobbed at the end of itsstring.

“But,Isay!”saidMichael,staring.“It’sgotmynameonit!”And,sureenough,theredmarkingsontheballoonwerelettersspellingout

thetwowords–“MichaelBanks”.“Aha!” cackled theBalloonWoman. “What did I tell you?You tookyour

timeandthechoicewasright!”“Seeifmineis!”saidJane,handingtheBalloonWomanalimpblueballoon.Shepuffedandblewitup,andthereappearedacrossthefatblueglobethe

words“JaneCarolineBanks”inlargewhiteletters.“Isthatyourname,mydeary-duck?”saidtheBalloonWoman.Janenodded.TheBalloonWoman laughed toherself,a thin,oldcackling laugh,asJane

tooktheballoonfromherandbounceditontheair.“Me!Me!”criedJohnandBarbara,plungingfathandsamongtheballoon-

cases. John drew out a pink one and, as she blew it up, the BalloonWomansmiled. There, round the balloon, thewords could clearly be seen. “John andBarbaraBanks–onebetweenthembecausetheyaretwins.”

“But,”saidJane,“Idon’tunderstand.Howdidyouknow?Youneversawusbefore.”

“Ah,mydeary-duck,didn’t I tellyou therewasballoonsandballoonsandthatthesewereextra-special?”

“Butdidyouputthenamesonthem?”saidMichael.“I?”theoldwomanchuckled.“NaryI!”“Thenwhodid?”“Askme another,mydeary-duck!All I know is that the namesare there!

And there’saballoon foreverysingleperson in theworld ifonly theychooseproperly.”

“OneforMaryPoppinstoo?”TheBalloonWoman cocked her head and looked atMaryPoppinswith a

curioussmile.“Lether try!”Sherockedherselfonher littlestool.“Takeyourchoiceand

takeyourtime!Chooseandsee!”MaryPoppinssniffedimportantly.Herhandhoveredforamomentoverthe

emptyballoonsandthenpouncedonaredone.Shehelditoutatarm’slengthand,totheirastonishment,thechildrensawitslowlyfillingwithairofitsownaccord.LargerandlargeritgrewtillitbecamethesizeofMichael’s.Butstillitswelled until it was three times as large as any other balloon. And across itappearedinlettersofgoldthetwowords“MaryPoppins”.

Theredballoonbounced through theair; theoldwomantiedastring to it,and,withalittlecacklinglaugh,handeditbacktoMaryPoppins.

Upintothedancingairdancedthefourballoons.Theytuggedattheirstringsasthoughtheywantedtobefreeoftheirmoorings.Thenthewindcaughtthemandflungthembackwardsandforwards,totheNorth,totheSouth,totheEast,totheWest.

“Balloons and balloons, my deary-ducks! One for everybody if only they

knewit!”criedtheBalloonWomanhappily.At that moment an elderly gentleman in a top-hat, turning in at the Park

Gates, looked across and saw the balloons.The children sawhimgive a littlestart.ThenhehurrieduptotheBalloonWoman.

“Howmuch?”hesaid,jinglinghismoneyinhispocket.“Sevenpence-halfpenny.Takeyourchoiceandtakeyourtime!”He tookabrownoneand theBalloonWomanblewitup.Thewords“The

HonourableWilliamWetherallWilkins”appearedonitingreenletters.“Good gracious!” said the elderly gentleman. “Good gracious, that’s my

name!”“You chose well, my deary-duck. Balloons and balloons!” said the old

woman.Theelderlygentlemanstaredathisballoonasittuggedatitsstring.“Extraordinary!”hesaid,andblewhisnosewithatrumpetingsound.“Forty

yearsago,whenIwasaboy,Itriedtobuyaballoonhere.Buttheywouldn’tletme.Said theycouldn’tafford it.Fortyyears–and it’sbeenwaitingformeallthistime.Mostextraordinary!’

Andhehurriedaway,bumpingintotheArchbecausehiseyeswerefixedonthe balloon. The children saw him giving little excited leaps in the air as hewent.

“Lookathim!”criedMichael,astheElderlyGentlemanbobbedhigherandhigher.Butat thatmomenthisownballoonbeganpullingat the stringandhefelthimselfliftedoffhisfeet.

“Hello,hello!Howfunny!Mine’sdoingittoo!”“Balloons and balloons, my deary-duck!” said the Balloon Woman, and

broke into her cackling laugh as the Twins, both holding their balloon by itssinglestring,bouncedofftheground.

“I’mgoing,I’mgoing!”shriekedJaneasshe,too,wasborneupwards.“Home,please!”saidMaryPoppins.Immediately, the red balloon soared up, draggingMary Poppins after. Up

anddownshebounced,withAnnabelandtheparcelsinherarms.ThroughtheGates and above the path the red balloon bore Mary Poppins, her hat verystraight,herhairverytidy,andherfeetastrimlywalkingtheairastheyusuallywalkedtheearth.JaneandMichaelandtheTwins,tuggedjerkilyupanddownbytheirballoons,followedher.

“Oh,oh,oh!”criedJane,asshewaswhirledpastthebranchofanelmtree.“Whatadeliciousfeeling!”

“IfeelasifIweremadeofair!”saidMichael,knockingintoaParkseatandbouncingoffitagain.“Whatalovelywaytogohome!”

“O-o-h!E-e-e-h!”squeakedtheTwins,tossingandbobbingtogether.“Followme,please,anddon’tdawdle!”saidMaryPoppins,lookingfiercely

over her shoulder, for all the world as if they were walking sedately on thegroundinsteadofbeingtuggedthroughtheair.

Past the Park Keeper’s house they went and down the Lime Walk. TheElderlyGentlemanwasthere,bouncingalongaheadofthem.

Michaelturnedforamomentandlookedbehindhim.“Look,Jane,look!Everybody’sgotone!”She turned. In the distance a group of people, all carrying balloons, were

beingjerkedupanddownintheair.“TheIceCreamManhasboughtone!”shecried,staringandjustmissinga

statue.“Yes,andtheSweep!Andthere–doyousee?–isMissLark!”Across the lawn a familiar figure came bouncing, hatted and gloved, and

holdingaballoonbearing thename“LucindaEmilyLark”.ShebobbedacrosstheElmWalk, looking very pleased and dignified, and disappeared round theedgeofafountain.

By this time theParkwas fillingwithpeopleandeveryoneof themhadaballoonwithanameonit,andeveryonewasbouncingintheair.

“Heave ho, there! Room for the Admiral! Where’s my port? Heave ho!”shoutedahuge,nauticalvoice,asAdmiralandMrsBoomwentrollingthroughtheair.Theyheldthestringofalargewhiteballoonwiththeirnameonitinblueletters.

“Mastsandmizzens!Cocklesandshrimps!Haulaway,myhearties!”roaredAdmiralBoom,carefullyavoidingalargeoaktree.

Thecrowdofballoonsandpeoplegrewthicker.Therewashardlyapatchofairintheparkthatwasnotrainbowywithballoons.JaneandMichaelcouldseeMaryPoppins threadingherwayprimlyamong themand they, too,hurriedasfast as they could through the throng,with John andBarbara bobbing at theirheels.

“Oh,dear!Oh,dear!Myballoonwon’tbounceme.Imusthavechosenthewrongone!”saidavoiceatJane’selbow.

An old-fashioned ladywith a quill in her hat and a feather boa round herneckwasstandingonthepathjustbelowJane.Atherfeetlayapurpleballoonacrosswhichwaswritteninlettersofgold,“ThePrimeMinister”.

“WhatshallIdo?”shecried.“TheoldwomanattheGatessaid‘Takeyourchoice and takeyour time,mydeary-duck!’And Idid.But I’vegot thewrongone.I’mnotthePrimeMinister!”

“Excuseme,butIam!”saidavoiceatherside,asatallman,veryelegantlydressedandcarryingarolledumbrella,steppeduptoher.

The lady turned. “Oh, then this is your balloon! Letme see if you’ve gotmine!”

ThePrimeMinister,whoseballoonwasnotbouncinghimatall,showedittoher.Itsnamewas“LadyMurielBrighton-Jones”.

“Yes, you have! We’ve got mixed!” she cried, and handing the PrimeMinisterhisballoon,sheseizedherown.Presentlytheywereofftheground,andflyingamongthetrees,talkingastheywent.

“Areyoumarried?”JaneandMichaelheardLadyMurielask.AndthePrimeMinisteranswered,“No.Ican’tfindtherightsortofmiddle-

aged lady – not too young and not too old and rather jolly, because I’m soseriousmyself.”

“WouldIdo?”saidLadyMurielBrighton-Jones.“Icanenjoymyselfquitealot.”

“Yes, I think you’d do very nicely,” said the PrimeMinister and, hand inhand,theyjoinedthetossingthrong.

BythistimetheParkwasreallyrathercrowded.JaneandMichael,bobbingacross the lawns after Mary Poppins, constantly bumped into other bouncingfigureswhohadboughtballoonsfromtheBalloonWoman.Atallman,wearingalongmoustache,abluesuitandahelmet,wasbeingtuggedthroughtheairbya balloon marked “Police Inspector”, and another, bearing the words “LordMayor”,draggedalongaround,fatpersoninathree-corneredhat,aredoverallandalarge,brassnecklace.

“Moveon,please!Don’tcrowdthePark.ObservetheRegulations!AllLittertobedepositedintheRubbishBaskets!”

TheParkKeeper,roaringandranting,andholdingasmall,cherry-colouredballoonmarked“F.Smith”,threadedhiswaythroughthecrowd.Withawaveofhishandhemovedontwodogs–abull-dog,withtheword“Cu”writtenonhisballoon,andafox-terrierwhosenameappearedtobe“Albertine”.

“Leavemydogsalone!OrIshalltakeyournumberandreportyou!”criedaladywhoseballoonsaidshewas“TheDuchessofMayfield”.

ButtheParkKeepertooknonoticeandwentbobbingby,crying“AllDogsonaLead!Don’tcrowd thePark!Nosmoking!Observe theRegulations!” till

hisvoicewashoarse.“Where’sMaryPoppins?”saidMichael,whiskinguptoJane.“There! Just aheadof us!” she replied andpointed to theprim, tidy figure

that bounced at the end of the largest balloon in the Park. They followed ithomewards.

“Balloons and balloons, my deary-ducks!” cried a cackling voice behindthem.

And turning, they saw theBalloonWoman.Her traywas empty and therewasnotaballoonanywherenearher,butinspiteofthatshewasflyingthroughtheairasthoughahundredinvisibleballoonsweredrawingheronwards.

“Every one sold!” she screamed as she sped by. “There’s a balloon foreveryoneifonlytheyknewit.Theytooktheirchoiceandtheytooktheirtime!AndI’vesoldthelot!Balloonsandballoons.”

Herpocketsjingledrichlyassheflewbyand,standingstill intheair,Janeand Michael watched the small, withered figure shooting past the bobbingballoons,past thePrimeMinisterand theLordMayor,pastMaryPoppinsandAnnabel, until the tiny shape grew tinier still and the Balloon Womandisappearedintothedistance.

“Balloonsandballoons,mydeary-ducks!”Thefaintechocamedriftingbacktothem.

“Stepalong,please!”saidMaryPoppins.Theyflockedroundher,allfourofthem. Annabel, rocked by the movement of Mary Poppins’ balloon, nestledclosertoherandwenttosleep.

The gate ofNumber Seventeen stood open, the front doorwas ajar.MaryPoppins, leapingneatlyandbouncingprimly,passedthroughandupthestairs.The children followed, jumping and bobbing. And when they reached thenursery door, their four pairs of feet clattered noisily to the ground. MaryPoppinsfloateddownandlandedwithoutasound.

“Oh,what a lovely afternoon!” said Jane, rushing to fling her arms roundMaryPoppins.

“Well, that’smore thanyou are,at thismoment.Brushyourhair,please. Idon’tcareforscarecrows!”MaryPoppinssaidtartly.

“Ifeellikeaballoonmyself,”saidMichaeljoyfully.“Allairy-fairy-free!”“I’dbesorryforthefairythatlookedlikeyou!”saidMaryPoppins.“Goand

washyourhands.You’renobetterthanasweep!”Whentheycameback,cleanandtidy,thefourballoonswererestingagainst

theceiling,theirstringsfirmlymooredbehindthepictureoverthemantelpiece.

Michaelgazedupatthem–hisownyellowone,Jane’sblue,theTwins’pinkandMaryPoppins’ red.Theywerevery still.Nobreathofwindmoved them.Lightandbright,steadyandstill,theyleantagainsttheceiling.

“Iwonder!”saidMichaelsoftly,halftohimself.“Youwonderwhat?”saidMaryPoppins,sortingoutherparcels.“Iwonderif itwouldallhavehappenedifyouhadn’tbeenwithus.”Mary

Poppinssniffed.“Ishouldn’twonderifyoudidn’twondermuchtoomuch!”shereplied.AndwiththatMichaelhadtobecontent...

ChapterNine

NELLIE-RUBINA

“IDON’TBELIEVEitwilleverstop–ever!”JaneputdownhercopyofRobinsonCrusoeandgazedgloomilyoutofthe

window.Thesnowfellsteadily,driftingdowninlargesoftflakes,coveringthePark

and the pavements and the houses in Cherry Tree Lane with its thick, whitemantle.Ithadnotstoppedsnowingforaweekandinallthattimethechildrenhadnotoncebeenabletogoout.

“Idon’tmind–notverymuch,”saidMichaelfromthefloor,wherehewasbusy arranging the animals of hisNoah’sArk. “We can beEsquimos and eatwhales.”

“Silly–howcouldwegetwhaleswhen it’s toosnowyeven togooutandbuycough-drops?”

“Theymightcomehere.Whalesdo,sometimes,”heretorted.“Howdoyouknow?”“Well, I don’t know, exactly. But they might. Jane, where’s the second

giraffe?Oh,hereheis–underthetiger!”HeputthetwogiraffesintotheArktogether.sangMichael.And,becausehe

hadn’tgotakangaroo,hesentanantelopeinwiththeelephant,andMrandMrsNoahbehindthemtokeeporder.

“TheAnimalswentinTwo-by-Two,TheElephantandtheKangaroo”

“Iwonderwhytheyneverhaveanyrelations!”heremarkedpresently.“Whodon’t?”saidJanecrossly,forshedidn’twanttobedisturbed.“TheNoahs.I’veneverseenthemwithadaughterorasonoranuncleoran

aunt.Why?”“Becausetheydon’thavethem,”saidJane.“Dobequiet.”“Well,Iwasonlyremarking.Can’tIremarkifIwantto?”

Hewasbeginningtofeelcrossnow,andverytiredofbeingcoopedupintheNursery.HescrambledtohisfeetandswaggeredovertoJane.

“Ionlysaid...”hebeganannoyingly,joggingthehandthatheldthebook.But, at that, Jane’s patience gave way and she hurled Robinson Crusoe

acrosstheroom.“Howdareyoudisturbme?”sheshouted,turningonMichael.“Howdareyounotletmemakearemark?”“Ididn’t!”“Youdid!”And in another moment Jane was shaking Michael furiously by the

shoulders,andhehadgrippedagreathandfulofherhair.“Whatisallthis?”MaryPoppinsstoodinthedoorway,gloweringdownatthem.Theyfellapart.“She sh-sh-shook me!” wailed Michael, but he looked guiltily at Mary

Poppins.“Hep-p-pulledmyhair!”sobbedJane,hidingherheadinherarms,forshe

darednotfacethatsterngaze.Mary Poppins stalked into the room. She had a pile of coats, caps and

mufflers on her arm; and the Twins, round-eyed and interested, were at herheels.

“Iwouldrather,”sheremarkedwithasniff,“haveafamilyofCannibalstolookafter.They’dbemorehuman!”

“Butshedidsh-sh-shakeme—”Michaelbeganagain.“Tell-Tale-Tit,YourTongueshallbeslit!”jeeredMaryPoppins.Then,ashe

seemed to be going to protest, “Don’t dare answer back!” she saidwarningly,andtossedhimhisovercoat.“Getyourthingson,please!We’regoingout!”

“Out?”Theycouldhardlybelievetheirears!Butatthesoundofthatwordalltheir

crossness melted away.Michael, buttoning up his leggings, felt sorry he hadannoyed Jane, and looked across to find her putting on her woollen cap andsmilingathim.

“Hooray, hooray, hooray!” they shouted, stamping and clapping theirwoollen-glovedhands.

“Cannibals!” she said fiercely, and pushed them in front of her down thestairs.

Thesnowwasnolongerfallingbutwaspiledinheavydriftsalloverthegarden,and beyond, in the Park, it lay upon everything like a thick white quilt. ThenakedbranchesoftheCherryTreeswerecoveredwithaglisteningrindofsnow;andtheParkrailings,thathadoncebeengreenandslender,werenowwhiteandratherwoolly.

Down the garden path Robertson Ay was languidly trailing his shovel,pausingeveryfewinchestotakealongrest.HewaswearinganoldovercoatofMrBanks’thatwasmuchtoobigforhim.Assoonashehadshovelledthesnowfromonepieceofpath,thecoat,driftingbehindhim,sweptanewdriftofsnowovertheclearedpatch.

But thechildren racedpasthimanddown to thegate, cryingandshoutingandwavingtheirarms.

OutsideintheLaneeverybodywholivedinitseemedtobetakingtheair.“Ahoy there, shipmates!” cried a roaring, soaring voice asAdmiral Boom

cameupandshookthemallbythehand.HewaswrappedfromheadtofootinalargeInvernesscapeandhisnosewasredderthantheyhadeverseenit.

“Goodday!”saidJaneandMichaelpolitely.“Portandstarboard!”criedtheAdmiral.“Idon’tcall thisagoodday.Hur-

rrrrrumph!Ahideous,hoary,land-lubberysortofday,Icallit.Whydoesn’ttheSpringcome?Tellmethat!”

“Now,Andrew!Now,Willoughby!KeepclosetoMother!”MissLark,muffledup in a long fur coat andwearing a fur hat like a tea-

cosy,wastakingawalkwithhertwodogs.“Good morning, everybody!” She greeted them fussily. “What weather!

Wherehasthesungone?Andwhydoesn’ttheSpringcome?”“Don’t askme,Ma’am!” shoutedAdmiralBoom.“Noaffairofmine.You

shouldgotosea.Alwaysgoodweatherthere!Gotosea!”“Oh,AdmiralBoom,Icouldn’tdothat!Ihaven’tthetime.Iamjustoff to

buyAndrewandWilloughbyafurcoateach.”Alookofshameandhorrorpassedbetweenthetwodogs.“Furcoats!”roaredtheAdmiral.“Blastmybinnacle!Furcoatsforacouple

ofmongrels?Heaveherover!Port,Isay!UpwiththeAnchor!Furcoats!”“Admiral! Admiral!” cried Miss Lark, stopping her ears with her hands.

“Suchlanguage!Please,pleaserememberIamnotusedtoit.Andmydogsarenotmongrels.Not at all!Onehas a longpedigree and theother has at least aKindHeart.Mongrels,indeed!”

Andshehurriedaway,talkingtoherselfinahigh,angryvoice,withAndrew

and Willoughby sidling behind her, swinging their tails and looking veryuncomfortableandashamed.

The IceCreamMan trundledpastonhis cycle, goingat a terrific rate andringinghisbellmadly.

“DON’TSTOPMEORISHALLCATCHCOLD”saidthenoticeinfrontofhiscart.

“Whenever’sthatthereSpringcoming?”shoutedtheIceCreamMantotheSweepwhoatthatmomentcametrudgingroundthecorner.Tokeepoutthecoldhehadcompletelycoveredhimselfwithbrushesso thathe lookedmore likeaporcupinethanaman.

“Bur-rum, bur-rum, bumble!” came the voice of the Sweep through thebrushes.

“What’sthat?”saidtheIceCreamMan.“Bumble!”theSweepremarked,disappearinginatMissLark’sTradesman’s

Entrance.InthegatewaytotheParkstoodtheKeeper,wavinghisarmsandstamping

hisfeetandblowingonhishands.“NeedabitofSpring,don’twe?”hesaidcheerfullytoMaryPoppinsasshe

andthechildrenpassedthrough.“I’mquitesatisfied!”repliedMaryPoppinsprimly,tossingherhead.“Self-satisfied,I’dcallit,”mutteredtheKeeper.Butashesaiditbehindhis

hand,onlyJaneandMichaelheardhim.Michaeldawdledbehind.Hestoopedandgatheredupahandfulofsnowand

rolleditbetweenhispalms.“Jane,dear!”hecalledinawheedlingvoice.“I’vegotsomethingforyou!”She turned, and the snowball,whizzing through the air, caught her on the

shoulder.With a squeal she began to burrow in the snow and presently thereweresnowballsflyingthroughtheairineverydirection.Andinandout,amongthe tossing, glistening balls, walked Mary Poppins, very prim and neat, andthinking to herself how handsome she looked in her woollen gloves and herrabbit-skincoat.

Andjustasshewasthinkingthat,a largesnowballgrazedpast thebrimofherhatandlandedrightonhernose.

“Oh!”screamedMichael,puttingupbothhandstohismouth.“Ididn’tmeanto,MaryPoppins!Ididn’t,really.ItwasforJane!”

Mary Poppins turned; and her face, as it appeared through the fringe ofbrokensnowball,wasterrible.

“MaryPoppins,”hesaidearnestly.“I’msorry.ItwasaNaccident!”“A Naccident or not,” she retorted, “that’s the end of your snowballing.

Naccident,indeed!AZuluwouldhavebettermanners!”Shepluckedtheremainsofthesnowballfromherneckandrolledtheminto

asmallballbetweenherwoollenpalms.Thensheflungtheballrightacrossthesnowylawnandwentstampinghaughtilyafterit.

“Nowyou’vedoneit!”whisperedJane.“Ididn’tmeanto,”Michaelwhisperedback.“Iknow.Butyouknowwhatsheis!”MaryPoppins,arrivingattheplacewherethesnowballhadfallen,pickedit

upandthrewitagain,along,powerfulthrow.“Whereisshegoing?”saidMichaelsuddenly.Forthesnowballwasbowling

away under the trees and, instead of keeping to the path, Mary Poppins washurrying after it. Every now and then she dodged a little fall of snow as ittumbledsoftlyfromabranch.

“Icanhardlykeepup!”saidMichael,stumblingoverhisownfeet.Mary Poppins quickened her steps. The children panted behind her. And

when at last they caught up with the snowball they found it lying beside thestrangestbuildingtheyhadeverseen.

“Idon’trememberseeingthishousebefore!”exclaimedJane,hereyeswidewithsurprise.

“It’smorelikeanArkthanahouse,”saidMichael,staring.Thehousestoodsolidlyinthesnow,mooredbyathickropetothetrunkofa

tree.Roundit,likeaveranda,ranalongnarrowdeck,anditshigh-peakedroofwaspaintedbrightscarlet.Butthemostcuriousthingaboutitwasthatthoughithadseveralwindowstherewasnotasingledoor.

“Wherearewe?”saidJane,fullofcuriosityandexcitement.MaryPoppinsmadenoreply.Sheledthewayalongthedeckandstoppedin

frontofanoticethatsaid:

KNOCKTHREEANDAHALFTIMES

“Whatishalfaknock?”whisperedMichaeltoJane.“Sh!”shesaid,noddingtowardsMaryPoppins.Andhernodsaidasclearly

as ifshehadspoken–“We’reon thebrinkofanAdventure.Don’tspoil itbyaskingquestions!”

Mary Poppins, seizing the knocker that hung above the notice, swung it

upwards and knocked three times against the wall. Then, taking it daintilybetweenthefingerandthumbofherwoollenglove,shegavethemerest,tiniest,smallest,gentlesttap.

Likethis:

RAP!RAP!RAP!...TAP!

Immediately,asthoughithadbeenlisteningandwaitingforthatsignal,theroofofthebuildingflewbackonitshinges.

“GoodnessGraciousness!”Michael could not restrain the exclamation, forthewindoftheroof,asitswungopen,nearlyliftedhishatoff.

MaryPoppinswalked to the endof thenarrowdeckandbegan to climbasmall, steep ladder. At the top she turned, and looking very solemn andimportant,beckonedwithawoollyfinger.

“Stepup,please!”Thefourchildrenhurriedafterher.“Jump!”criedMaryPoppins, leapingdownfromthe topof the ladder into

thehouse.SheturnedandcaughttheTwinsastheycametumblingovertheedgewithJaneandMichaelafterthem.Andassoonastheywereallsafelyinside,theroofclosedoveragainandshutwithalittleclick.

Theygazedroundthem.Fourpairsofeyespoppedwithsurprise.“Whatafunnyroom!”exclaimedJane.But itwas reallymore than funny. Itwasextraordinary.Theonlypieceof

furnitureinitwasalargecounterthatranalongoneendoftheroom.Thewallswerewhite-washedand, leaningagainst them,werepilesofwoodcut into theshape of trees and branches and all painted green. Small wooden sprays ofleaves,newlypaintedandpolished,werescatteredaboutthefloor.Andseveralnoticeshungfromthewalls,saying

MINDTHEPAINT!

or

DON’TTOUCH!

or

KEEPOFFTHEGRASS!

Butthiswasnotall.Inonecornerstoodaflockofwoodensheepwiththedyestillwetontheir

fleeces. Crowded in another were small, stiff groups of flowers – yellowaconites, green-and-white snowdrops, and bright blue scyllas. All of themlookedveryshinyandstickyasthoughtheyhadbeennewlyvarnished.

Sodidall thewoodenbirdsandbutterflies thatwereneatlypiledina thirdcorner.Sodidtheflat,white,woodencloudsthatleanttidilyagainstthecounter.

But the enormous jar that stoodona shelf at the endof the roomwasnotpainted.Itwasmadeofgreenglassandfilledtothebrimwithhundredsofsmallflatshapesofeverykindandcolour.

“You’requiteright,Jane,”saidMichael,staring.“Itisafunnyroom!”“Funny!” said Mary Poppins, looking as though he had said something

insulting.“Well–peculiar.”“Peculiar?”Michaelhesitated.Hecouldnotfindtherightword.“WhatImeantwas—”“Ithinkit’salovelyroom,MaryPoppins,”saidJane,hastilycomingtothe

rescue.“Yes,itis,”saidMichael,veryrelieved.“And,”headdedcleverly,“I think

youlookveryniceinthathat.”Hewatchedhercarefully.Yes,herfacewasalittlesofter–therewereeven

faintbeginningsofaconceitedsmileroundhermouth.“Humph!”sheremarked,andturnedtowardstheendoftheroom.“Nellie-Rubina!”shecalled.“Whereareyou?We’vearrived!”“Coming!Coming!”The highest, thinnest voice they had ever heard seemed to rise up from

beneath the counter. And, presently, from the same direction as the voice, ahead,toppedwithasmall,flathat,poppedup.Itwasfollowedbyaround,rathersolid body that held in one hand a pot of red paint, and in the other a plainwoodentulip.

Surely,surely,thoughtJaneandMichael,thiswasthestrangestpersontheyhadeverseen!

From her face and size she seemed to be quite young, but somehow shelookedasthoughsheweremade,notofflesh,butofwood.Herstiff,shinyblackhair seemed tohavebeencarvedonherheadand thenpainted.Hereyeswerelikesmallblackholesdrilledinherface,andsurelythatbrightpinkpatchonher

shinycheekwaspaint!“Well,MaryPoppins!”saidthiscuriousperson,herredlipsglisteningasshe

smiled.“This isniceofyou,Imustsay!”And,puttingdownthepaintandthetulip,shecameroundthecounterandshookhandswithMaryPoppins.

Then itwas that thechildrennoticedshehadno legsat all!Shewasquitesolidfromthewaistdownwardsandmovedwitharollingmotionbymeansofaroundflatdiscwhereherfeetshouldhavebeen.

“Notatall,Nellie-Rubina,”saidMaryPoppins,withunusualpoliteness.“ItisaPleasureandaTreat!”

“We’vebeenexpectingyou,ofcourse,”Nellie-Rubinawenton,“becausewewantedyou tohelpwith the—”Shebrokeoff, fornotonlyhadMaryPoppinsflashedherawarninglook,butshehadcaughtsightofthechildren.

“Oh!” she cried, in her high, friendly voice. “You’ve brought Jane andMichael!And theTwins too.What a surprise!” She bowled across and shookhandsjerkilywiththemall.

“Doyouknowus,then?”saidMichael,staringather,amazed.“Oh,dearme,yes!”shetrilledgaily.“I’veoftenheardmyFatherandMother

speakofyou.Pleasedtomakeyouracquaintance.”Shelaughed,andinsistedonshakinghandsallroundagain.

“Ithought,Nellie-Rubina,”saidMaryPoppins,“thatmaybeyoucouldspareanounceofConversations.”

“Most certainly!” said Nellie-Rubina, smiling and rolling towards thecounter.“Todoanythingforyou,MissPoppins,isanHonourandaJoy!”

“Butcanyouhaveconversationbytheounce?”saidJane.“Yes,indeed.Bythepoundtoo.Ortheton,ifyoulike.”Nellie-Rubinabroke

off.Sheliftedherarmstothelargejarontheshelf.Theywerejusttooshorttoreach it. “Tch, tch, tch!” Not long enough. I must have a bit added. In themeantime,I’llgetmyUncletoliftthemdown.UncleDodger!UncleDod-ger!”

She screamed the last words through a door behind the counter, andimmediatelyanodd-lookingpersonappeared.

HewasasroundasNellie-Rubina,butmucholder,andwithasaddersortofface.He,too,hadalittleflathatonhishead,andhiscoatwastightlybuttonedacrossachestaswoodenyasNellie-Rubina’s.AndJaneandMichaelcouldsee,ashisapronswungasideforamoment,that,likehisniece,hewassolidfromthewaist downwards. In his hand he carried a wooden cuckoo half-covered withgreypaintandthereweresplashesofthesamepaintonhisownnose.

“Youcalled,mydear?”heasked,inamild,respectfulvoice.

ThenhesawMaryPoppins.“Ah,hereyouareatlast,MissPoppins!Nellie-Rubinawillbepleased.She’s

beenexpectingyoutohelpuswith—”Hecaughtsightofthechildrenandbrokeoffsuddenly.“Oh,Ibegyourpardon.Ididn’tknowtherewasCompany,mydear!I’lljust

goandfinishthisbird—”“You will not, Uncle Dodger!” said Nellie-Rubina sharply. “I want the

Conversationslifteddown.Willyoubesogood?”Althoughshehadsuchajolly,cheerfulface,thechildrennoticedthatwhen

shespoketoherUncleshegaveordersratherthanaskedfavours.UncleDodgersprangforwardasswiftlyasanybodycouldwhohadnolegs.“Certainly,mydear,certainly!”Heliftedhisarmsjerkilyandsetthejaron

thecounter.“Infrontofme,please!”orderedNellie-Rubinahaughtily.Fussily,UncleDodgeredgedthejaralong.“Thereyouare,mydear,beggingyourpardon!”“Are those theConversations?”askedJane,pointing to the jar.“They look

morelikesweets.”“So they are, Miss! They’re Conversation Sweets,” said Uncle Dodger,

dustingthejarswithhisapron.“Doesoneeatthem?”enquiredMichael.UncleDodger,glancingcautiouslyatNellie-Rubina,leantacrossthecounter.“One does,” he whispered behind his hand. “But I don’t, being only an

Uncle-by-Marriage.Butshe–”henoddedrespectfullytowardshisniece–“she’stheEldestDaughterandaDirectDescendant!”

NeitherJanenorMichaelknewintheleastwhathemeant,buttheynoddedpolitely.

“Now,” cried Nellie-Rubina gaily, as she unscrewed the lid of the Jar.“Who’llchoosefirst?”

Janethrustinherhandandbroughtoutaflat,star-shapedsweetratherlikeapeppermint.

“There’swritingonit!”sheexclaimed.Nellie-Rubina shrieked with laughter. “Of course there is! It’s a

Conversation!Readit.”“You’reMyFancy,”readJanealoud.“How very nice!” tinkledNellie-Rubina, pushing the jar towardsMichael.

Hedrewoutapinksweetshapedlikeashell.

“ILoveYou.DoYouLoveMe?”hespeltout.“Ha, ha!That’ a goodone!Yes, I do!”Nellie-Rubina laughed loudly, and

gavehimaquickkissthatleftastickypatchofpaintonhischeek.John’s yellow Conversation read, “Deedle, deedle, dumpling!” and on

Barbara’swaswritteninlargeletters,“Shining-brightandairy.”“Andsoyouare!”criedNellie-Rubina,smilingatheroverthecounter.“Now you, Mary Poppins!” And as Nellie-Rubina tipped the jar towards

Mary Poppins, Jane and Michael noticed a curious, understanding look passbetweenthem.

OffcamethelargewoollengloveandMaryPoppins,shuttinghereyes,putin her hand and scrabbled for a moment among the Conversations. Then herfingersclosedonawhiteoneshapedlikeahalf-moonandshehelditoutinfrontofher.

“Teno’clockTonight,”saidJane,readingtheinscriptionaloud.UncleDodgerrubbedhishandstogether.“That’sright.That’sthetimewhenwe—”“UncleDod-ger!”criedNellie-Rubinainawarningvoice.Thesmilefadedawayfromhisfaceandleftitsadderthanbefore.“Begging your pardon, my dear!” he said humbly. “I’m an old man, I’m

afraid, and I sometimes say thewrong things – beg pardon.”He looked veryashamed of himself, but Jane and Michael could not see that he had doneanythingverywrong.

“Well,” said Mary Poppins, slipping her Conversation carefully into herhandbag,“ifyou’llexcuseus,Nellie-Rubina,Ithinkwe’dbetterbegoing!”

“Oh,mustyou?”Nellie-Rubinarolledalittleonherdisc.“IthasbeensuchaSatisfaction!Still,”sheglancedoutofawindow,“itmightsnowagainandkeepyou imprisoned here. And you wouldn’t like that, would you?” she trilled,turningtothechildren.

“Iwould,”saidMichaelstoutly.“Iwouldloveit.Andthen,perhaps,I’dfindoutwhatthesearefor.”Hepointedtothepaintedbranches,thesheepandbirdsandflowers.

“Those?Ohthosearejustdecorations,”saidNellie-Rubina,airilydismissingthemwithajerkywaveofherhand.

“Butwhatdoyoudowiththem?”UncleDodgerleanteagerlyacrossthecounter.“Well,yousee,wetakethemoutand—”“UncleDod-ger!”Nellie-Rubina’seyesweresnappingdangerously.

“Oh,dear!ThereIgoagain.Alwaysspeakingoutofmyturn. I’mtooold,that’swhatitis!”saidUncleDodgermournfully.

Nellie-Rubina gave him an angry look. Then she turned, smiling, to thechildren.

“Goodbye,” she said, jerkily shaking hands. “I’ll remember ourConversations. You’re my Fancy, I love You, Deedle-deedle and Shining-bright!”

“You’veforgottenMaryPoppins’Conversation.It’s‘Teno’clockTonight’,”Michaelremindedher.

“Ah,butshewon’t!”saidUncleDodger,smilinghappily.“UncleDod-ger!”“Oh,beggingyourpardon,beggingyourpardon!”“Goodbye!” said Mary Poppins. She patted her handbag importantly and

anotherstrangelookpassedbetweenherandNellie-Rubina.“Goodbye,goodbye!”When Jane and Michael thought about it afterwards, they could not

rememberhow theyhadgotoutof that curious room.Onemoment theywereinside it saying goodbye to Nellie-Rubina, and the next they were out in thesnowagain,lickingtheirConversationsandhurryingafterMaryPoppins.

“Doyouknow,Michael,”saidJane,“Ibelievethatsweetwasamessage.”“Whichone?Mine?”“No.TheoneMaryPoppinschose.”“Youmean...?”“Ithinksomethingisgoingtohappenatteno’clocktonightandI’mgoingto

stayawakeandsee.”“ThensowillI,”saidMichael.“Come along, please!Keep up!” saidMary Poppins. “I haven’tall day to

waste...”

Janewasdreamingdeeply.Andinherdreamsomebodywascallinghernameinasmall,urgentvoice.ShesatupwithastarttofindMichaelstandingbesideherinhispyjamas.

“Yousaidyou’dstayawake!”hewhisperedaccusingly.“What?Where?Why?Oh,it’syou,Michael!Well,yousaidyouwouldtoo.”“Listen!”hesaid.Therewasasoundofsomebodytip-toeinginthenextroom.Janedrew in her breath sharply. “Quick!Get back into bed.Pretend to be

asleep.Hurry!”WithaboundMichaelwasunder theblankets.In thedarknessheandJane

heldtheirbreaths,listening.From the other Nursery, the door opened stealthily. The thin gap of light

widenedandgrewlarger.Aheadcameroundtheedgeandpeepedintotheroom.Thensomebodyslippedthroughandsilentlyshutthedoorbehindthem.

MaryPoppins,wrappedinherfurcoatandholdinghershoesinherhands,tip-toedthroughtheirroom.

They laystill, listening toherstepshurryingdown thestairs.Faraway thekey of the front door scraped in its lock. There was a scurry of steps on thegardenpathandthefrontgateclicked.

Andatthatmomenttheclockstruckten.Out of bed they sprang and rushed into the other Nursery, where the

windowsopenedonthePark.Thenightwasblackandsplendid,litwithhigh,swingingstars.Buttonightit

wasnot stars theywere looking for. IfMaryPoppins’Conversationhad reallybeenamessage,therewassomethingmoreinterestingtobeseen.

“Look!”Janegavealittlegulpofexcitement,andpointed.Over in the Park, just by the entrance gate, stood the curious ark-shaped

building,looselymooredtoatree-trunk.“Buthowdiditgetthere?”saidMichael,staring.“Itwasattheothersideof

theParkthismorning.”Janedidnotreply.Shewastoobusywatching.The roof of the Ark was open and on the top of the ladder stood Nellie-

Rubina,balancingonherrounddisc.FrominsideUncleDodgerwashandinguptoherbundleafterbundleofpaintedwoodenbranches.

“Ready,MissPoppins?” tinkledNellie-Rubina, passing an armful down toMaryPoppins,whowasstandingonthedeckwaitingtoreceivethem.

TheairwassoclearandstillthatJaneandMichael,crouchedinthewindow-seat,couldheareveryword.

SuddenlytherewasaloudnoiseinsidetheArkasawoodenshapeclatteredtothefloor.

“Uncle Dod-ger! Be careful, please. They’re fragile!” said Nellie-Rubinasternly. And Uncle Dodger, as he lifted out a pile of painted clouds, repliedapologetically:

“Beggingyourpardon,mydear!”Theflockofwoodensheepcamenext,allverystiffandsolid.Andlastofall,

thebirds,butterfliesandflowers.“That’s the lot!” saidUncleDodger, heaving himself up through the open

roof.Underhis armhecarried thewoodencuckoo,nowentirely coveredwithgreypaint.Andinhishandswungalarge,greenpaint-pot.

“Verywell,”saidNellie-Rubina.“Now,ifyou’reready,MissPoppins,we’llbegin.”

And thenbeganoneof the strangestpiecesofwork JaneandMichaelhadeverseen.Never,never,theythought,wouldtheyforgetit,eveniftheylivedtobeninety.

Fromthepileofpaintedwood,Nellie-RubinaandMaryPoppinseachtookalongsprayofleavesand,leapingintotheair,attachedthemswiftlytothenakedfrostybranchesof the trees.Thespraysseemedtocliponeasily, for itdidnottakemore than aminute to attach them.And as eachwas slipped into place,UncleDodgerwouldspringupandneatlydabaspotofgreenpaintatthepointwherethesprayjoinedthetree.

“MyGoodnessGoodness!” exclaimed Jane, asNellie-Rubina sailed lightlyuptothetopofatallpoplarandfixedalargebranchthere.ButMichaelwastooastonishedtosayanything.

AllovertheParkwentthethree,jumpinguptothetallestbranchasiftheywere on springs.And, in no time, every tree in theParkwas deckedoutwithwoodenspraysof leavesandneatlyfinishedoffwithdabsofpaintfromUncleDodger’sbrush.

Every now and then Jane and Michael heard Nellie-Rubina’s shrill voicecrying, “Uncle Dod-ger!Be careful!” and Uncle Dodger’s voice begging herpardon.

And nowNellie-Rubina andMary Poppins took up in their arms the flat,whitewoodenclouds.Withthesetheysoaredhigherthaneverbefore,shootingrightabovethetreesandpressingthecloudscarefullyagainstthesky.

“They’resticking,they’resticking!”criedMichaelexcitedly,dancingonthewindow-seat. And, sure enough, against the sparkling, darkling sky the flat,whitecloudsstuckfast.

“Who-o-o-op!” cried Nellie-Rubina as she swooped down. “Now for thesheep!”

Very carefully, on a snowy strip of lawn, they set up the wooden flock,huddlingthelargersheeptogetherwiththestiffwhitelambsamongthem.

“We’regettingon!” JaneandMichaelheardMaryPoppins say, as sheputthelastlambonitslegs.

“I don’t knowwhat we’d have donewithout you,Miss Poppins, indeed Idon’t!”saidNellie-Rubinapleasantly.Then,inquiteadifferentvoice,“Flowers,please,UncleDodger!Andlooksharp!”

“Here, my dear!” He rolled hurriedly up to her, his apron bulging withsnowdrops,scyllasandaconites.

“Oh,look!Look!”Janecried,huggingherselfdelightedly.ForNellie-Rubinawasstickingthewoodenshapesroundtheedgeofanemptyflower-bed.Roundand round she rolled, planting her wooden border and reaching up her handagainandagainforafreshflowerfromUncleDodger’sapron.

“That’s neat!” said Mary Poppins admirably, and Jane and Michael wereastonishedatthepleasant,friendlytoneofhervoice.

“Yes, isn’t it?” trilled Nellie-Rubina, brushing the snow from her hands.“QuiteaSight.What’sleft,UncleDodger?”

“The birds, my dear, and the butterflies!” He held out his apron. Nellie-RubinaandMaryPoppinsseizedtheremainingwoodenshapesandranswiftlyabout the Park, setting the birds on branches or in nests and tossing thebutterfliesintotheair.Andthecuriousthingwasthattheystayedthere,poisedabovetheearth,theirbrightpatchesofpaintshowingclearlyinthestarlight.

“There!Ithinkthat’sall!”saidNellie-Rubina,standingstillonherdisc,withherhandsonherhips,asshegazedroundatherhandiwork.

“Onethingmore,mydear!”saidUncleDodger.And,ratherunevenly,as thoughtheevening’sworkhadmadehimfeelold

and tired, he bowled towards the ash tree near the Park Gates. He took thecuckoofromunderhisarmandsetitonabranchamongthewoodenleaves.

“There,mybonny!There,mydove!”hesaid,noddinghisheadatthebird.“UncleDod-ger!Whenwillyoulearn?It’snotadove.It’sacuckoo!”Hebenthisheadhumbly.“Adoveofacuckoo–that’swhatImeant.Beggingyourpardon,mydear!”“Well,now,MissPoppins,I’mafraidwereallymustbegoing!”saidNellie-

Rubina;and,rollingtowardsMaryPoppins,shetookthepinkfacebetweenhertwowoodenhandsandkissedit.

“Seeyousoon,Tra-la!”shecriedairily,bowlingalongthedeckoftheArkandupthelittleladder.AtthetopsheturnedandwavedherhandjerkilytoMaryPoppins.Then,withawoodenyclatter,sheleaptdownanddisappearedinside.

“Uncle Dod-ger! Come along! Don’t keep me waiting!” her thin voicefloatedback.

“Coming, my dear, coming! Begging your pardon!” Uncle Dodger rolled

towards the deck, shakinghandswithMaryPoppins on theway.Thewoodencuckoostaredout from its leafybranch.He flung it a sad,affectionateglance.Thenhisflatdiscroseintheairandechoedwoodenlyashelandedinside.Theroofflewdownandshutwithaclick.

“Let her go!” came Nellie-Rubina’s shrill command from within. MaryPoppins stepped forward andunwound themooring-rope from the tree. Itwasimmediatelydrawninthroughoneofthewindows.

“Make way, there, please! Make way!” shouted Nellie-Rubina. MaryPoppinssteppedbackhurriedly.

MichaelclutchedatJane’sarmexcitedly.“They’re off!” he cried, as theArk rose from the ground andmoved top-

heavilyabovethesnow.Upitwent,rockingdrunkenlybetweenthetrees.Thenitsteadieditselfandpassedlightlyupandoverthetop-mostboughs.

A jerky armwaveddownwards fromoneof thewindows, but before JaneandMichaelcouldbecertainwhetheritwasNellie-Rubina’sorUncleDodger’s,theArksweptintothestar-litairandacornerofthehousehiditfromview.

Mary Poppins stood for amoment by the ParkGateswaving herwoollengloves.

Thenshecamehurryingacross theLaneandup thegardenpath.Thefrontdoorkeyscrapedinthelock.Acautiousfootstepcreakedonthestairs.

“Backtobed,quick!”saidJane.“Shemustn’tfindushere!”Down from thewindow-seat and through the door they fled andwith two

quickjumpslandedintheirbeds.TheyhadjusttimetoputthebedclothesovertheirheadsbeforeMaryPoppinsopenedthedoorandquietlytip-toedthrough.

Zup!Thatwas her coat being hung on it hook.Crackle!Thatwas her hatrustlingdown into itspaper-bag.But theyheardnomore.Forby the timeshehadundressed and climbed into her campbed, Jane andMichael had huggleddownundertheblanketsandwerefastasleep...

“Cuckoo!Cuckoo!Cuckoo!”AcrosstheLanethesoftbirdnotecamefloating.“JumpingGiraffes!”criedMrBanks,ashelatheredhisface.“TheSpringis

here!”And he flung down his shaving-brush and rushed out into the garden. He

gaveonelookatitandthen,flingingbackhishead,hemadeatrumpetwithhishands.

“Jane! Michael! John! Barbara!” he called up to the Nursery windows.

“Comedown!Thesnow’sgoneandSpringhascome!”They came tumbling down the stairs and out of the front door to find the

wholeLanealivewithpeople.“Shipahoy!”roaredAdmiralBoom,wavinghismuffler.“RopeandRigging!

CocklesandShrimps!Here’stheSpring!”“Well,”saidMissLark,hurryingoutthroughhergate.“Afinedayatlast!I

wasthinkingofgettingAndrewandWilloughbytwopairsofleatherbootseach,butnowthesnow’sgoneIshan’thaveto!”

AtthatAndrewandWilloughbylookedveryrelievedandlickedherhandtoshowtheyweregladshehadnotdisgracedthem.

TheIceCreamManwheeledslowlyupanddown,keepinganeyeopenforcustomers.Andtodayhisnotice-boardread:

“Springhascome,Rum-ti-tum,Stopandbuyone,Springhascome!”

And the Sweep, carrying only one brush, walked along the Lane, lookingfrom right to left with a satisfied air, as though he himself had arranged thelovelyday.

AndinthemiddleofalltheexcitementJaneandMichaelstoodstill,staringaboutthem.

Everythingshoneandglistenedinthesunlight.Therewasnotasingleflakeofsnowtobeseen.

Fromeverybranchofeverytree,thetender,pale-greenbudswerebursting.Round theedgeof theflower-beds just inside thePark, fragilegreenshootsofaconites, snowdrops and scyllaswere breaking into a border of yellow,whiteandblue.PresentlytheParkKeepercamealongandpickedatinybunchandputthemcarefullyinhisbutton-hole.

Fromflower to flowerbrightlycolouredbutterfliesweredartingondownywings, and in the branches, thrushes and tits and swallows and finches weresingingandbuildingnests.

A flock of sheep, with soft young lambs at their heels, went by, baa-ingloudly.

AndfromtheboughoftheashtreebytheParkGatescametheclear,double-notedcall:

“Cuckoo!Cuckoo!”MichaelturnedtoJane.Hiseyeswereshining.“So that’s what they were doing – Nellie-Rubina and Uncle Dodger and

MaryPoppins!”Janenodded,gazingwonderinglyabouther.Among the faint green smoke of buds a grey body rocked backwards and

forwardsontheash-bough.“Cuckoo!Cuckoo!”“But...Ithoughttheywereallmadeofpaintedwood!”saidMichael.“Did

theycomealiveinthenight,doyouthink?”“Perhaps,”saidJane.“Cuckoo!Cuckoo!”Jane seizedMichael’s hand and, as though he guessed the thought in her

mind,heranwithherthroughthegarden,acrosstheLaneandintothePark.“Hi!Whereareyougoing,youtwo?”calledMrBanks.“Ahoy,there,messmates!”roaredAdmiralBoom.“You’llgetlost!”warnedMissLarkshrilly.TheIceCreamMantingledhisbellwildlyandtheSweepstoodstaringafter

them.ButJaneandMichaeltooknonotice.Theyranon,rightthroughtheParkand

underthetreestotheplacewheretheyhadfirstseentheArk.They drew up, panting. It was cold and shadowy here under the dark

branches,andthesnowhadnotyetmelted.Theypeeredabout,seeking,seeking.But there was only a heavy drift of snowflakes spread under the dark greenboughs.

“It’sreallygone,then!”saidMichael,gazinground.“Doyouthinkweonlyimaginedit,Jane?”heaskeddoubtfully.

Shebentdownsuddenlyandpickedupsomethingfromthesnow.“No,”shesaidslowly.“I’msurewedidn’t.”Sheheldoutherhand. Inher

palmlayaround,pinkConversationSweet.Shereadoutthewords:

“GoodbyetillNextYear,Nellie-RubinaNoah.”

Michaeldrewadeepbreath.“Sothat’swhoshewas.UncleDodgersaidshewastheEldestDaughter.But

Ineverguessed.”

“ShebroughttheSpring!”saidJanedreamily,gazingattheConversation.“I’ll thankyou,”saidavoicebehind them,“tocomehomeatonceandeat

yourbreakfast!”Theyturnedguiltily.“Wewerejust...”Michaelbegantoexplain.“Then don’t!” snappedMary Poppins. She leant over Jane’s shoulder and

tooktheConversation.“That,Ibelieve,ismine!”sheremarked;and,puttingitinherapronpocket,

sheledthewayhomethroughthePark.Michael broke off a spray of green buds as he went. He examined them

carefully.“Theyseemquiterealnow,”hesaid.“Perhapstheyalwayswere,”saidJane.Andamockingvoicecamefloatingfromtheashtree:“Cuckoo!Cuckoo!Cuckoo!”

ChapterTen

MERRY-GO-ROUND

ITHADBEENaquietmorning.Morethanoneperson,passingalongCherryTreeLane,hadlookedoverthe

fenceofNumberSeventeenandsaid,“Howveryextraordinary!Notasound!”Even the House, which usually took no notice of anything, began to feel

alarmed.“Dear me! Dear me!” it said to itself, listening to the silence. “I hope

nothing’swrong!”Downstairs in theKitchen,MrsBrill,withher spectacleson the tipof her

nose,wasnoddingoverthenewspaper.On the first-floor landing, Mrs Banks and Ellen were tidying the linen-

cupboardandcountingthesheets.Upstairs in the Nursery Mary Poppins was quietly clearing away the

luncheonthings.“I feel very good and sweet today,” Janewas saying drowsily, as she lay

stretchedonthefloorinapatchofsunlight.“Thatmustbeachange!”remarkedMaryPoppinswithasniff.Michael took the lastchocolateoutof theboxAuntFlossiehadgivenhim

lastweekforhissixthbirthday.ShouldheofferittoJane,hewondered?OrtotheTwins?OrMaryPoppins?No.Afterall,ithadbeenhisbirthday.“Last,luckylast!”hesaidquicklyandpoppeditintohisownmouth.“AndI

wishthereweremore!”headdedregretfully,gazingintotheemptybox.“Allgoodthingscometoanend,sometime,”saidMaryPoppinsprimly.Hecockedhisheadononesideandlookedupather.“Youdon’t!”hesaiddaringly.“Andyou’reagoodthing.”Thebeginningsofasatisfiedsmileglimmeredat thecornersofhermouth,

butitdisappearedasquicklyasithadcome.“That’sasmaybe!”sheretorted.“Nothinglastsforever.”Janelookedround,startled.

IfnothinglastedforeveritmeantthatMaryPoppins—“Nothing?”shesaiduneasily.“Nothingatall!”snappedMaryPoppins.And as if she had guessed what was in Jane’s mind, she went to the

mantelpieceandtookdownherlargeThermometer.Thenshepulledhercarpet-bagfromunderthecampbedandpoppedtheThermometerintoit.

Janesatupquickly.“MaryPoppins,whyareyoudoingthat?”MaryPoppinsgaveheracuriouslook.“Because,” she said priggishly, “Iwas always taught to be tidy.”And she

pushedthecarpet-bagunderthebedagain.Janesighed.Herheartfelttightandheavyinherchest.“Ifeelrathersadandanxious,”shewhisperedtoMichael.“IexpectyouhadtoomuchSteamPudding!”heretorted.“No,it’snotthatkindoffeeling—”shebegan,andbrokeoffsuddenlyfora

knockhadsoundedatthedoor.Tap!Tap!“Comein!”calledMaryPoppins.RobertsonAystoodthereyawning.“Doyouknowwhat?”hesaidsleepily.“No,what?”“There’saMerry-go-roundinthePark!”“That’snonewstome!”snappedMaryPoppins.“AFair?”criedMichaelexcitedly.“Withswinging-boatsandaHoop-la?”“No,” saidRobertsonAy, solemnly shaking his head. “AMerry-go-round,

allbyitself.Camelastnight.Thoughtyouwouldliketoknow.”Heshuffledlanguidlytothedoorandcloseditafterhim.Janesprangup,heranxietyforgotten.“Oh,MaryPoppins,maywego?”“SayYes,MaryPoppins,sayYes!”criedMichael,dancingroundher.Sheturned,balancingatrayofplatesandcupsonherarm.“Iamgoing,”sheremarkedcalmly.“BecauseIhavethefare.Idon’tknow

aboutyou.”“There’ssixpenceinmymoney-box!”saidJaneeagerly.“Oh,Jane,lendmetwopence!”pleadedMichael.Hehadspentallhismoney

thedaybeforeonastickofLiquorice.TheygazedanxiouslyatMaryPoppins,waitingforhertomakeuphermind.

“NoborrowingorlendinginthisNursery,please,”shesaidtartly.“Iwillpayforonerideeach.Andoneisallyouwillhave.”

Shesweptfromtheroomcarryingthetraywithitsloadofcups.Theystaredateachother.“Whatcanbethematter?”saidMichael.Itwasnowhisturntobeanxious.

“She’sneverpaidforanythingbefore!”“Aren’tyouwell,MaryPoppins?”heaskeduneasily,asshecamehurrying

back.“Neverbetterinmylife!”shereplied,tossingherhead.“AndI’llthankyou,

if you please, not to stand there, peeking and prying at me as if I were aWaxwork!Goandgetready!”

Herlookwassostern,andhereyessofiercelyblueandshespokesolikeherusualself,thattheiranxietyvanishedaway,andtheyran,shouting,togettheirhats.

Presently the quietness of the housewasbrokenby the noise of slammingdoors,screamingvoicesandstampingfeet.

“Dearme!Dearme!What a relief! Iwas getting quite anxious!” said theHouse to itself, listening to Jane and Michael and the Twins plunging andtumblingdownstairs.

Mary Poppins paused for amoment to glance at her reflection in the hallmirror.

“Oh, do come on, Mary Poppins! You look all right,” said Michaelimpatiently.

Shewheeledabout.Herexpressionwasangry,outragedandastonishedallatonce.

Allright,indeed!Thatwashardlytheword.Allright,inherbluejacketwiththesilverbuttons!Allrightwithhergoldlocketroundherneck!Allrightwiththeparrot-headedumbrellaunderherarm!

MaryPoppinssniffed.“Thatwillbeenoughfromyou–andmore!”shesaidshortly.Thoughwhat

shemeantwasthatitwasn’tnearlysufficient.ButMichaelwastooexcitedtocare.“Comeon,Jane!”hecried,dancingwildly.“Isimplycan’twait!Comeon!”They ran on ahead while Mary Poppins strapped the Twins into the

perambulator.AndpresentlythegardengateclickedbehindthemandtheywereonthewaytotheMerry-go-round.

Faint sounds of music came floating across from the Park, humming and

drumminglikeahumming-top.“Goodafternoon!Andhowarewe today?”MissLark’shighvoicegreeted

themasshehurrieddowntheLanewithherdogs.Butbeforetheyhadtimetoreplyshewenton,“OfftotheMerry-go-round,I

suppose! Andrew and Willoughby and I have just been. A very superiorEntertainment.So nice and clean.And such a politeAttendant!” She flutteredpastwith the two dogs prancing beside her. “Goodbye!Goodbye!” she calledbackoverhershoulderasshedisappearedroundthecorner.

“AllHandstothePump!Heaveho,myhearties!”A well-known voice came roaring from the direction of the Park. And

throughthegatescameAdmiralBoom,lookingveryredinthefaceanddancingaSailor’sHornpipe.

“Yo, ho, ho!And a bottle ofRum!TheAdmiral’s been on theMerry-go-round.Bailherout!Cocklesandshrimps!It’sasgoodasalongseavoyage!”heroared,ashegreetedthechildren.

“We’regoingtoo!”saidMichaelexcitedly.“What?You’regoing?”TheAdmiralseemedquiteastonished.“Yes,ofcourse!”saidJane.“But – not all the way, surely?”The Admiral looked curiously at Mary

Poppins.“They’rehavingonerideeach,Sir!”sheexplainedprimly.“Ah,well!Farewell!”hesaidinavoicethat,forhim,wasalmostgentle.Then,tothechildren’sastonishment,hedrewhimselfup,puthishandtohis

forehead,andsmartlysalutedMaryPoppins.“Ur-rrrrrrumph!”hetrumpetedintohishandkerchief.“Hoistyoursail!And

upwithyourAnchor!Andaway,Love,away!”And he waved his hand and went off, rolling from side to side of the

pavementandsinging:“EveryniceGirllovesaSailor!”

inaloud,rumblingvoice.“WhydidhesayFarewellandcallyouLove?”saidMichael,staringafterthe

AdmiralashewalkedonbesideMaryPoppins.“BecausehethinksI’maThoroughlyRespectablePerson!”shesnapped.But

therewasasoft,dreamylookinhereyes.AgainJanefeltthestrangesadfeeling,andherhearttightenedinsideher.“What can be going to happen?” she asked herself anxiously. She put her

handonMaryPoppins’handasitlayonthehandleoftheperambulator.Itfelt

warmandsafeandcomforting.“HowsillyIam!”shesaidsoftly.“Therecan’tbeanythingwrong!”AndshehurriedbesidetheperambulatorasittrundledtowardsthePark.“Justamoment!Justamoment!”apantingvoicesoundedbehindthem.“Why,”saidMichael,turning,“it’sMissTartlet!”“Indeed,itisnot,”saidMissTartletbreathlessly.“It’sMrsTurvy!”She turned, blushing to Mr Turvy. He stood beside her, smiling a little

sheepishly.“IsthisoneofyourSecondMondays?”Janeenquired.Hewasright-sideup,

soshedidnotthinkitcouldbe.“Oh,no!Thankgoodness,no!”hesaidhastily.“We–er–werejustcomingtosay–oh,GoodAfternoon,Mary!”“Well,CousinArthur?”Theyallshookhands.“IwonderedifyouweregoingontheMerry-go-round?”heenquired.“Yes,Iam.Weallare!”“All!”MrTurvy’seyebrowsshotuptothetopofhishead.Heseemedvery

surprised.“They’re going for one ride each!” said Mary Poppins, nodding at the

children. “Sit still, please!” she snapped at the Twins, who had bobbed upexcitedly.“You’renotPerformingMice!”

“Oh,Isee.Andthen–they’regettingoff?Well–goodbye,MaryandBonVoyage!”MrTurvyraisedhishathighabovehishead,veryceremoniously.

“Goodbye – and thank you for coming!” said Mary Poppins, bowinggraciouslytoMrandMrsTurvy.

“WhatdoesBonVoyagemean?”saidMichael,lookingoverhisshoulderattheir retreatingfigures–MrsTurvyveryfatandcurly,MrTurvyverystraightandthin.

“Good journey!Which is somethingyouwon’thaveunlessyouwalkup!”snappedMaryPoppins.Hehurriedafterher.

Themusicwasloudernow,beatinganddrummingontheair,drawingthemalltowardsit.

MaryPoppins,almostrunning,turnedtheperambulatorinattheParkGates.Buttherearowofpavementpicturescaughthereyeandshepulledupsuddenly.

“Whatisshestoppingfornow?”saidMichaelinanangrywhispertoJane.“We’llnevergetthereatthisrate!”

ThePavementArtisthadjustcompletedasetoffruitincolouredchalks–anApple,aPear,aPlumandaBanana.

Underneaththemhewasbusychalkingthewords:

TAKEONE

“Ahem!”saidMaryPoppins,withalady-likecough.ThePavementArtistleapttohisfeet,andJaneandMichaelsawthatitwas

MaryPoppins’greatfriend,theMatchMan.“Mary!Atlast!I’vebeenwaitingallday!”TheMatchMan seized her by both hands and gazed admiringly into her

eyes.MaryPoppinslookedveryshyandratherpleased.“Well,Bert,we’reofftotheMerry-go-round,”shesaid,blushing.Henodded. “I thoughtyouwouldbe.They’regoingwithyou?”he added,

jerkinghisthumbatthechildren.MaryPoppinsshookherheadmysteriously.“Justforaride,”shesaidquickly.“Oh.”Hepurseduphismouth.“Isee.”Michaelstared.WhatelsecouldtheydoonaMerry-go-roundexceptgofora

ride,hewondered?“Anicesetofpicturesyou’vegot!”MaryPoppinswassayingadmiringly,as

shestoodgazingdownatthefruit.“Helpyourself!”saidtheMatchManairily.Andwith thatMary Poppins, before their astonished eyes, bent down and

pickedthepaintedPlumfromthepavementandtookabiteoutofit.“Won’tyoutakeone?”saidtheMatchMan,turningtoJane.Shestaredathim.“ButcanI?”Itseemedsoimpossible.“Try!”Shebent towards theAppleand it leapt intoherhand.Shebit into the red

side.Ittastedverysweet.“Buthowdoyoudoit?”saidMichael,staring.“Idon’t,”saidtheMatchMan.“It’sHer!”HenoddedatMaryPoppinsasshe

stood primly beside the perambulator. “It only happens when she’s around, Iassureyou!”

Then he bent down and picked the Pear clean out of the pavement andofferedittoMichael.

“Butwhataboutyou?”saidMichael,forthoughhewantedthePear,healsowantedtobepolite.

“That’sallright!”saidtheMatchMan.“Icanalwayspaintmore!”AndwiththathepluckedtheBanana,peeledit,andgavehalfeachtotheTwins.

Aclear,sweetstrainofmusiccamefloatingurgentlytotheirears.“Now,Bert,wemustreallybegoing!”saidMaryPoppinshurriedly,asshe

neatlyhidherPlum-stonebetweentwoParkrailings.“Must you,Mary?” said theMatchMan very sadly. “Well, Goodbye,my

Dear.AndGoodLuck!”“Butyou’llseehimagain,won’tyou?”saidMichael,ashefollowedMary

PoppinsthroughtheGates.“Maybeandmaybenot!”shesaidshortly.“Andit’snoaffairofyours!”Jane turned and looked back.TheMatchManwas standing by his box of

chalks,gazingwithallhiseyesafterMaryPoppins.“Thisisacuriousday!”shesaid,frowning.MaryPoppinsglaredather.“What’swrongwithit,pray?”“Well–everyone’ssayingGoodbye.Andlookingatyousostrangely.”“Speech costs nothing!” snappedMaryPoppins. “And aCat can look at a

King,Isuppose?”Janewassilent.SheknewitwasnogoodsayinganythingtoMaryPoppins,

becauseMaryPoppinsneverexplained.Shesighed.Andbecauseshewasnotquitesurewhyshesighed,shebeganto

run,streakingpastMichaelandMaryPoppinsandtheperambulatortowardsthethunderingmusic.

“Wait for me! Wait for me!” screamed Michael, dashing after her. Andbehind him came the rumbling trundle of the perambulator as Mary Poppinshurriedafterthemboth.

TherestoodtheMerry-go-roundonaclearpatchoflawnbetweentheLimeTrees. Itwasanewone,verybrightandshiny,withprancinghorsesgoingupand down on their brass poles. A striped flag fluttered from the top, andeverywhere it was gorgeously decorated with golden scrolls and silver leavesandcolouredbirdsandstars.Itwas,infact,everythingMissLarkhadsaid,andmore.

TheMerry-go-roundsloweddownanddrew toa standstill as theyarrived.TheParkKeeperranupofficiouslyandheldontooneofthebrasspoles.

“Comealong,comealong!Threepencearide!”hecalledimportantly.“I know which horse I’ll have!” saidMichael, dashing up to one painted

blue-and-scarlet,with thename “Merry-legs”on its gold collar.He clambered

ontoitsbackandseizedthepole.“NoLitterAllowedandObservetheBye-Laws!”calledtheKeeperfussily,

asJanespedpasthim.“I’llhaveTwinkle!”shecried,climbinguponthebackofafierywhitehorse

withitsnameonaredcollar.ThenMaryPoppinsliftedtheTwinsfromtheperambulatorandputBarbara

infrontofMichael,andJohnbehindJane.“Penny, Tuppeny, Threepenny, Fourpenny, or Fivepenny rides?” said the

Merry-go-roundAttendant,ashecametocollectthemoney.“Sixpenny,”saidMaryPoppins,handinghimfoursixpenny-bits.Thechildrenstared,amazed.Theyhadneverbeforehadasixpennyrideona

Merry-go-round.“No Litter Allowed!” called the Keeper, his eye on the tickets in Mary

Poppins’hand.“Butaren’tyoucoming?”Michaelcalleddowntoher.“Holdtight,please!Holdtight!I’lltakethenextturn!”sherepliedsnappily.TherewasahootfromtheMerry-go-round’schimney.Themusicbrokeout

again.Andslowly,slowlythehorsesbegantomove.“Holdon,please!”calledMaryPoppinssternly.Theyheldon.The trees were moving past them. The brass poles slipped up and down

through thehorses’ backs.Adazzleof light fell on them from the raysof thesettingsun.

“Sittight!”cameMaryPoppins’voiceagain.Theysattight.Nowthetreesweremovingmoreswiftly,spinningaboutthemastheMerry-

go-roundgatheredspeed.MichaeltightenedhisarmaboutBarbara’swaist.Janeflung back her hand and held John firmly. On they rode, turning ever morequickly,with their hair blowingout behind them, and thewind sharp on theirfaces.RoundandroundwentMerry-legsandTwinkle,withthechildrenontheirbacksandtheParktippingandrocking,whirlingandwheelingaboutthem.

Itseemedasiftheywouldneverstop,asiftherewerenosuchthingasTime,asiftheworldwasnothingbutacircleoflightandagroupofpaintedhorses.

ThesundiedintheWestandtheduskcameflutteringdown.Butstill theyrode, fasterandfaster, tillat last theycouldnotdistinguish treefromsky.Thewholebroadearthwasspinningnowaboutthemwithadeep,drummingsoundlikeahummingtop.

NeveragainwouldJaneandMichaelandJohnandBarbarabesoclosetothecentreoftheworldastheywereonthatwhirlingride.And,somehow,itseemedasthoughtheyknewit.

For – “Never again! Never again!” was the thought in their hearts as theearthwhirledaboutthemandtheyrodethroughthedroppingdusk.

Presently,thetreesceasedtobeacirculargreenblurandtheirtrunksagainbecame visible. The sky moved away from the earth, and the Park stoppedspinning. Slower and slowerwent the horses.And at last theMerry-go-roundstoodstill.

“Comealong,comealong!Threepencearide!”theParkKeeperwascallinginthedistance.

Stifffromtheirlongride,thefourchildrenclambereddown.Buttheireyeswereshining,andtheirvoicestrembledwithexcitement.

“Oh, lovely, lovely, lovely!” cried Jane, gazing at Mary Poppins withsparklingeyes,assheputJohnintotheperambulator.

“If only we could have gone on for ever!” exclaimed Michael, liftingBarbarainbesidehim.

MaryPoppinsgazeddownatthem.Hereyeswerestrangelysoftandgentleinthegatheringdusk.

“Allgoodthingscometoanend,”shesaidforthesecondtimethatday.ThensheflungupherheadandglancedattheMerry-go-round.“My turn!” shecried joyfully, as she stoopedand tooksomething from the

perambulator.Thenshestraightenedandstoodlookingatthemforamoment–thatstrange

look that seemed to plunge right down inside them and see what they werethinking.

“Michael!”shesaid,lightlytouchinghischeekwithherhand,“begood!”He stared up at her uneasily.Why had she done that?What could be the

matter?“Jane!TakecareofMichael and theTwins!” saidMaryPoppins.And she

liftedJane’shandandputitgentlyonthehandleoftheperambulator.“Allaboard!Allaboard!”criedtheTicketCollector.ThelightsoftheMerry-go-roundblazedup.MaryPoppinsturned.“Coming!”shecalled,wavingherparrot-headedumbrella.Shedartedacrossthelittlegulfofdarknessthatlaybetweenthechildrenand

theMerry-go-round.

“MaryPoppins!”criedJane,withatrembleinhervoice.Forsuddenly–shedidnotknowwhy–shefeltafraid.

“MaryPoppins!”shoutedMichael,catchingJane’sfear.ButMary Poppins took no notice. She leapt gracefully upon the platform,

and, climbingupon thebackof a dappledhorse calledCaramel, she sat downneatlyandprimly.

“SingleorReturn?”saidtheTicketCollector.Foramomentsheappearedtoconsider thequestion.Sheglancedacrossat

thechildrenandbackattheCollector.“Youneverknow,”shesaidthoughtfully.“Itmightcomeinuseful.I’lltake

aReturn.”TheTicketCollectorsnappedaholeinagreenticketandhandedittoMary

Poppins.JaneandMichaelnoticedthatshedidnotpayforit.Then the music broke out again, softly at first, then loudly, wildly,

triumphantly.Slowlythepaintedhorsesbegantomove.Mary Poppins, looking straight ahead of her, was borne past the children.

The parrot’s head of her umbrella nestled under her arm. Her neatly glovedhandswereclosedonthebrasspole.Andinfrontofher,onthehorse’sneck—“Michael!”criedJane,clutchinghisarm.“Doyousee?Shemusthavehiddenitundertherug!Hercarpet-bag!”

Michaelstared.“Doyouthink...”hebegan,inawhisper.Janenodded.“But– she’swearing the locket!The chainhasn’t broken! I distinctly saw

it!”Behind them the Twins began towhimper, but Jane andMichael took no

notice.Theyweregazinganxiouslyattheshiningcircleofhorses.TheMerry-go-roundwasmovingswiftlynow,andsoon thechildrencould

nolongertellwhichhorsewaswhich,nordistinguishMerry-legsfromTwinkle.Everything before themwas a blaze of spinning light, except for the dark

figure,neatandsteady,thateverandagainapproachedthemandspedpastanddisappeared.

Wilderandwildergrewthedrummingmusic.Fasterandfasterwhirled theMerry-go-round. Again the dark shape rode towards them upon the dappledhorse.Andthistime,asshecameby,somethingbrightandgleamingbrokefromherneckandcameflyingthroughtheairtotheirfeet.

Janebentandpickeditup.Itwasthegoldlocket,hanginglooselyfromitsbrokengoldenchain.

“It’strue,then,it’strue!”cameMichael’sburstingcry.“Oh,openit,Jane!”Withtremblingfingersshepressedthecatchandthelocketflewopen.The

flickeringlightfellacrosstheglassandtheysawbeforethemtheirownpicturedfaces,clusteredaboutafigurewithstraightblackhair,sternblueeye,brightpinkcheeksandanoseturningupwardslikethenoseofaDutchdoll.

“Jane,Michael,John,BarbaraandAnnabelBanks

andMaryPoppins”

readJanefromthelittlescrollbeneaththepicture.“So that’swhatwas in it!” saidMichaelmiserably,as Janeshut the locket

andputitinherpocket.Heknewtherewasnohopenow...TheyturnedagaintotheMerry-go-round,dazzledandgiddyinthespinning

light, seeing it faintly through amist of tears.By now the horseswere flyingmoreswiftlythanever,andthepeelingmusicwaslouderthanbefore.

Andthenastrangethinghappened.Withagreatblastoftrumpets,thewholeMerry-go-roundrose,spinning,fromtheground.Roundandround,risingeverhigher and higher, the coloured horses wheeled and raced with Caramel andMaryPoppinsattheirhead.Andthespringingcircleoflightwentliftingamongthetrees,turningtheleavestogoldasthelightfelluponthem.

“She’sgoing!”saidMichael.“Oh, Mary Poppins, Mary Poppins! Come back, come back!” they cried,

liftingtheirarmstowardsher.But her face was turned away, she looked out serenely above her horse’s

headandgavenosignthatshehadheard.“MaryPoppins!”Itwasalastdespairingcry.Noanswercamefromtheair.By now the Merry-go-round had cleared the trees and was whirling up

towardsthestars.Awayitwentandaway,growingsmallerandsmaller,untilthefigureofMaryPoppinswasbutadarkspeckinawheeloflight.

On and on, pricking through the sky, went the Merry-go-round, carryingMary Poppins with it. And at last it was just a tiny, twinkling shape, a littlelargerbutnototherwisedifferentfromastar.

Michaelsniffedandfumbledinhispocketforhishandkerchief.“I’vegotacrick inmyneck,”hesaid, toexplain thesniff.ButwhenJane

wasnotlookinghehurriedlywipedhiseyes.Jane,stillwatchingthebrightspinningshape,gaveasigh.Thensheturnedaway.“Wemust go home,” she said flatly, remembering thatMary Poppins had

toldhertotakecareofMichaelandtheTwins.“Comealong,comealong!Threepencearide!”TheParkKeeper,whohadbeenputtinglitterinthebaskets,returnedtothe

scene.Heglancedat theplacewheretheMerry-go-roundhadbeenandstartedviolently.Helookedaroundhimandhismouthfellopen.Helookedupandhiseyesnearlyburstoutofhishead.

“Seehere!”heshouted.“Thiswon’tdo.Hereoneminuteandgonethenext!It’sAgainsttheRegulations!I’llhavetheLawonyou.”Heshookhisfistwildlyattheemptyair.“Ineversawsuchathing!NotevenwhenIwasaboy.Imustmakeareport!IshalltelltheLordMayor!”

Silently thechildren turnedaway.TheMerry-go-roundhad leftno trace inthegrass,notadentintheclover.ExceptfortheParkKeeper,whostoodthereshoutingandwavinghisarms,thegreenlawnwasquiteempty.

“ShetookaReturn,”saidMichael,walkingslowlybesidetheperambulator.“Doyouthinkthatmeansshe’llcomeback?”

Janethoughtforamoment.“Perhaps–ifwewantherenough,shewill,”shesaidslowly.

“Yes,perhaps. . .!”he repeated, sighinga little, and saidnomore till theywerebackintheNursery...

“Isay!Isay!Isay!”MrBankscamerunningupthepathandburstinatthefrontdoor.“Hi!Where’severybody?”heshouted,runningupthestairsthreeatatime.“Whateveristhematter?”saidMrsBanks,hurryingouttomeethim.“Themostwonderful thing!”he cried, flingingopen theNurserydoor. “A

newstarhasappeared.Iheardaboutitonthewayhome.TheLargestEver.I’veborrowedAdmiralBoom’stelescopetolookatit.Comeandsee!”

Herantothewindowandclappedthetelescopetohiseye.“Yes!Yes!”hesaid,hoppingexcitedly.“Thereitis!AWonder!ABeauty!

AMarvel!AGem!Seeforyourself!”HehandedMrsBanksthetelescope.

“Children!”heshouted.“Look!There’sanewstar!”“Iknow,”beganMichael.“Butit’snotreallyastar.It’s—”“Youknow?Anditisn’t?Whatonearthdoyoumean?”“Takenonotice.Heisjustbeingsilly!”saidMrsBanks.“Now,whereisthis

star?Oh, I see!Very pretty!Quite the brightest in the sky! Iwonderwhere itcamefrom?Now,children!”

She gave the telescope in turn to Jane and Michael, and as they lookedthrough the glass they could clearly see the circle of painted horses, the brasspoles and the dark blur that ever and again whirled across their sight for amomentandwasgone.

Theyturnedtoeachotherandnodded.Theyknewwhatthedarkblurwas–aneat,primfigureinabluecoatwithsilverbuttons,astiffstrawhatonitshead,andaparrot-headedumbrellaunderitsarm.Outoftheskyshehadcome,backtotheskyshehadgone.AndJaneandMichaelwouldnotexplaintoanyone,fortheyknewtherewerethingsaboutMaryPoppinsthatcouldneverbeexplained.

Aknocksoundedatthedoor.“Excuseme,Ma’am,”saidMrsBrill,hurryingin,veryredintheface.“ButI

thinkyououghttoknowthatthatthereMaryPoppinshasgoneagain!”“Gone!”saidMrsBanksunbelievingly.“Lock, stock and barrel – gone!” saidMrs Brill triumphantly. “Without a

word,orByYourLeave.Justlikelasttime.EvenherCamp-bedandhercarpet-bag–cleangone!NotevenherPostcard-albumasaMemento.Sothere!”

“Dear,dear!”saidMrsBanks.“Howverytiresome!Howthoughtless,how–George!”SheturnedtoMrBanks.“George,MaryPoppinshasgoneagain!”

“Who?What?MaryPoppins?Well,nevermindthat!We’vegotanewstar!”“Anewstarwon’twashanddressthechildren!”saidMrsBankscrossly.“It will look through their window at night!” cried Mr Banks happily.

“That’sbetterthanwashinganddressing.”Heturnedbacktothetelescope.“Won’tyou,myWonder?MyMarvel?MyBeauty?”hesaid,lookingupat

thestar.Jane and Michael drew close and leant against him, gazing across the

window-sillintotheeveningair.And high above them the great shape circled and wheeled through the

darkeningsky,shiningandkeepingitssecretforeverandeverandever...

ToCamillus

Contents

Dedication

TheFifthofNovember

MrTwigley’sWishes

TheCatThatLookedataKing

TheMarbleBoy

PeppermintHorses

HighTide

HappyEverAfter

TheOtherDoor

ChapterOne

THEFIFTHOFNOVEMBER

ITWASONEofthosebleakandchillymorningsthatremindyouwinteriscoming.CherryTreeLanewasquietandstill.ThemisthungovertheParklikeashadow.All the houses looked exactly alike as the grey fog wrapped them round.Admiral Boom’s flagstaff, with the telescope at the top of it, had entirelydisappeared.

TheMilkman,asheturnedintotheLane,couldhardlyseehisway.“Milk Be-l-o-o-ow!” he called, outside theAdmiral’s door. And his voice

soundedsoqueerandhollowthatitgavehimquiteafright.“I’llgo’Ometillthefoglifts,”hesaidtohimself.“’Ere!Lookwhereyou’re

goin’!” hewent on, as a shape loomed suddenly out of themist and bumpedagainsthisshoulder.

“Bumble,bumble,bum-bur-um-bumble,”saidagentle,muffledvoice.“Oh,it’syou!”saidtheMilkman,withasighofrelief.“Bumble,”remarkedtheSweepagain.Hewasholdinghisbrushesinfrontof

hisfacetokeephismoustachedry.“Outearly,aren’tyou?”theMilkmansaid.TheSweepgaveajerkofhisblackthumbtowardsMissLark’shouse.“Hadtodothechimbleybeforethedogshadbreakfast.Incasethesootgave

themacough,”heexplained.TheMilkmanlaughedrudely.For thatwaswhateverybodydidwhenMiss

Lark’stwodogswerementioned.Themistwentwreathingthroughtheair.TherewasnotasoundintheLane.“Ugh!”saidtheMilkman,shivering.“Thisquietgivesmethe’Orrors!”Andashesaidthat,theLanewokeup.Asuddenroarcamefromoneofthe

housesandthesoundofstampingfeet.“That’sNumberSeventeen!”saidtheSweep.“Excuseme,oldchap.Ithink

I’m needed.” He cautiously felt his way to the gate and went up the gardenpath...

Inside the house, Mr Banks was marching up and down, kicking the hallfurniture.

“I’vehadaboutallIcanstand!”heshouted,wavinghisarmswildly.“Youkeeponsayingthat,”MrsBankscried.“Butyouwon’ttellmewhat’s

thematter.”ShelookedatMrBanksanxiously.“Everything’s thematter!”he roared. “Lookat this!”Hewaggledhis right

footather.“Andthis!”hewenton,ashewaggledhisleft.MrsBankspeeredclosely at the feet.Shewas rather short-sighted and the

hallwasmisty.“I–er–don’tseeanythingwrong,”shebegantimidly.“Of course you don’t!” he said sarcastically. “It’s only imagination, of

course,thatmakesmethinkRobertsonAyhasgivenmeoneblackshoeandonebrown!”Andagainhewaggledhisfeet.

“Oh!”saidMrsBankshurriedly.Fornowshesawclearlywhat the troublewas.

“Youmaywell say ’Oh!’SowillRobertsonAywhen Igivehim the sacktonight!”

“It’s not his fault,Daddy!” cried Jane, from the stairs. “He couldn’t see –becauseofthefog.Besides,he’snotstrong.”

“He’sstrongenoughtomakemylifeamisery!”saidMrBanksangrily.“Heneedsrest,Daddy!”Michaelremindedhim,hurryingdownafterJane.“He’llgetit,”promisedMrBanks,ashesnatcheduphisbag.“WhenIthink

ofthethingsIcouldhavedoneifIhadn’tgoneandgotmarried!LivedaloneinaCave,perhaps.OrImighthavegoneRoundtheWorld.”

“Andwhatwouldwehavedone,then?”askedMichael.“Youwouldhavehadtofendforyourselves.Andserveyouright!Where’s

myovercoat?”“Youhaveiton,George,”saidMrsBanksmeekly.“Yes!”he retorted.“Andonlyonebutton!Butanything’sgoodenoughfor

me!I’monlythemanwhoPaystheBills.Ishallnotbehomefordinner.”Awailofprotestwentupfromthechildren.“Butit’sGuyFawkes’Day,”wheedledMrsBanks.“Andyouaresogoodat

lettingoffrockets.”“Norocketsforme!”criedMrBanks.“Nothingbuttroublefrommorningtill

night!”HeshookMrsBanks’handfromhisarmanddashedoutofthehouse.“Shake,sir!”said theSweep ina friendlyvoiceasMrBanksknocked into

him.“It’slucky,youknow,toshakehandswithaSweep.”

“Away,away!”saidMrBankswildly.“Thisisnotmyluckyday!”TheSweep lookedafterhimforamoment.Thenhesmiled tohimselfand

rangthedoor-bell...

“Hedoesn’tmean it,doeshe,Mother?Hewillcomehomefor thefireworks!”JaneandMichaelrushedatMrsBanksandtuggedatherskirt.

“Oh, I can’t promise anything, children!” she sighed, as she looked at herfaceinthefronthallmirror.

Andshethoughttoherself–Yes,I’mgettingthinner.OneofmydimpleshasgonealreadyandsoonIshalllosethesecond.Noonewilllookatmeanymore.Andit’sallherfault!

Byher,MrsBanksmeantMaryPoppins,whohadbeenthechildren’snurse.AslongasMaryPoppinswasinthehouse,everythinghadgonesmoothly.Butsince that day when she had left them – so suddenly andwithout aWord ofWarning–thefamilyhadgonefromBadtoWorse.

HereamI,thoughtMrsBanksmiserably,withfivewildchildrenandnoonetohelpme.I’veadvertised.I’veaskedmyfriends.Butnothingseemstohappen.AndGeorgeisgettingcrosserandcrosser;andAnnabel’steething;andJaneandMichaelandtheTwinsaresonaughty,nottomentionthatawfulIncomeTax...

Shewatchedatearrunoverthespotwherethedimplehadoncebeen.“It’snogood,”shesaid,withsuddendecision.“IshallhavetosendforMiss

Andrew.”A cry went up from all four children. Away in the Nursery, Annabel

screamed. ForMissAndrew had once been their Father’s governess and theyknewhowfrightfulshewas.

“Iwon’tspeaktoher!”shoutedJane,inarage.“I’llspitonhershoesifshecomes!”threatenedMichael.“No,no!”wailedJohnandBarbaramiserably.MrsBanksclappedherhandstoherears.“Children,havemercy!”shecried

indespair.“Begpardon,ma’am,” saidEllen thehousemaid, as she tappedMrsBanks

ontheshoulder.“TheSweepis’erefortheDrawing-roomChimbley.ButIwarnyou,ma’am, it’smyDayOut!And I can’t clean up after ’im.So there!”Sheblewhernosewithatrumpetingsound.

“Excuse me!” said the Sweep cheerfully, as he dragged in his bags andbrushes.

“’Oo’sthat?”camethevoiceofMrsBrillasshehurriedupfromthekitchen.

“The Sweep? On Baking Day? No, you don’t! I’m sorry to give you notice,ma’am.ButifthatHottentotgoesintothechimney,Ishallgooutofthedoor.”

MrsBanksglancedrounddesperately.“Ididn’taskhimtocome!”shedeclared.“Idon’tknowevenifthechimney

wantssweeping!”“Achimbley’salwaysgladofabrush.”TheSweepsteppedcalmlyintothe

Drawing-roomandbegantospreadouthissheet.MrsBankslookednervouslyatMrsBrill.“PerhapsRobertsonAycouldhelp

—”shebegan.“Robertson is asleep in the pantry, wrapped in your best lace shawl. And

nothingwillwakehim,”saidMrsBrill,“butthesoundoftheLastTrombone.Soifyouplease,I’llbepackingmybag.’Ow!Letmego,youHindoo!”

FortheSweephadseizedMrsBrill’shandandwasshakingitvigorously.Areluctantsmilespreadoverherface.

“Well – just this once!” she remarked cheerfully.And shewent down thekitchenstairs.

TheSweepturnedtoEllenwithagrin.“Don’ttouchme,youblackheathen!”shescreamedinaterrifiedvoice.But

hetookherhandinafirmgripandshe,too,begantosmile.“Well,nomessingupthecarpet!”shewarnedhim,andhurriedofftoherwork.

“Shake!”saidtheSweep,asheturnedtothechildren.“It’ssuretobringyouluck!”He left a blackmark on each of their palms and they all felt suddenlybetter.

Then he put out his hand toMrsBanks.And as she took hiswarm blackfingershercouragecameflowingback.

“Wemustmakethebestofthings,darlings,”shesaid.“Ishalladvertiseforanothernurse.Andperhapssomethinggoodwillhappen.”

JaneandMichaelsighedwithrelief.AtleastshewasnotgoingtosendforMissAndrew.

“What do you do when you need luck?” asked Jane, as she followed theSweeptotheDrawing-room.

“Oh,Ijustshake’andswithmeself,”hesaidcheerfully,pushinghisbrushupthechimney.

Alldaylongthechildrenwatchedhimandarguedoverwhoshouldhandhimthebrushes.NowandagainMrsBankscame in, tocomplainof thenoiseandhurrytheSweep.

And all day long, beyond the windows, the mist crept through the Lane.

Everysoundwasmuffled.Thebirdsweregone.ExceptforanoldandmoultingStarling who kept on peering through the cracks in the blinds as if he werelookingforsomeone.

AtlasttheSweepcreptoutofthechimneyandsmiledathishandiwork.“Sokindofyou!”saidMrsBankshurriedly.“Now,I’msureyoumustwant

topackupandgohome...”“I’minno’Urry,”remarkedtheSweep.“MeTeaisn’treadytillsixo’clock

andI’vegotanhourtofillin—”“Well,youcan’tfillitinhere!”MrsBanksshrieked.“Ihavetotidyupthis

roombeforemyhusbandcomeshome!”“I tell you what,” the Sweep said calmly. “If you’ve got a rocket or two

aboutyou,IcouldtakethechildrenintotheParkandshow’emafewfireworks.It’dgiveyouarestandmeselfaTreat.I’vealwaysbeenverypartialtorocketseversinceaboy–andbefore!”

Ayellofdelightwentup from thechildren.Michael ran toawindowandliftedthebind.“Oh,lookwhat’shappened!”hecriedintriumph.

ForachangehadcometoCherryTreeLane.Thechillgreymisthadclearedaway.Thehouseswerelitwithwarmsoftlights.AndawayintheWestshoneaglimmerofsunset,rosyandclearandbright.

“Rememberyourcoats!”criedMrsBanks,asthechildrendartedaway.Thenshe ran to the cupboard under the staircase and brought out a knobbly parcel.“Here you are!” she said breathlessly to theSweep. “Andmind, be careful ofsparks!”

“Sparks?” said theSweep. “Why, sparks ismy ’Obby.Them and the sootwotcomesafter!”

Thechildrenleaptlikepuppiesabouthimashewentdownthegardenpath.MrsBanks satdown for twominutes’ restononeof the sheet-coveredchairs.The Starling looked in at her for a moment. Then he shook his headdisappointedlyandflewawayagain...

Daylight was fading as they crossed the road. By the Park railings Bert, theMatchMan,wasspreadingouthistray.Helitacandlewithoneofhismatchesandbegantodrawpicturesonthepavement.HenoddedgailytothechildrenastheyhurriedthroughtheGates.

“Now,allweneed,”theSweepsaidfussily,“isaclearpatchofgrass—”“Which youwon’t get!” said a voice behind them. “The Park is closed at

5.30.”

OutfromtheshadowscametheParkKeeper,lookingverybelligerent.“Butit’sGuyFawkes’Day–theFifthofNovember!”thechildrenanswered

quickly.“Ordersisorders!”heretorted,“andalldaysarealiketome.”“Well,wherecanweletoffthefireworks?”Michaeldemandedimpatiently.AgreedylookleapttotheKeeper’seyes.“Yougotsomefireworks?”hesaidhungrily.“Well,whynotsaysobefore!”

And he snatched the parcel from the Sweep and began to untie the string.“Matches–that’swhatweneed!”hewenton,pantingwithexcitement.

“Here,”saidtheMatchMan’squietvoice.HehadfollowedthechildrenintotheParkandwasstandingbehindthemwithhislightedcandle.

TheParkKeeperopenedabundleofSquibs.“They’reours,youknow!”Michaelremindedhim.“Ah, letme help you – do!” said theKeeper. “I’ve never ’ad fun onGuy

Fawkes’Day–neversinceIwasaboy!”Andwithoutwaiting for permission, he lit the Squibs at theMatchMan’s

candle. The hissing streams of fire poured out, and pop, pop, pop went thecrackers.TheParkKeeper seizedaCatherineWheelandstuck itonabranch.Theringsoflightbegantoturnandsparkledontheair.Andafterthathewassoexcited that nothing could stop him. He went on lighting fuse after fuse asthoughhehadgonemad.

FlowerPots streamed from the dewygrass andGoldenRain floweddownthroughthedarkness.TopHatsburnedforabrightshortmoment;Balloonswentfloatinguptothebranches;andFiresnakeswrithedintheshadows.Thechildrenjumpedandsqueakedandshouted.TheParkKeeperranaboutamongthemlikealargefrenzieddog.AndamidthenoiseandthesparklinglightstheMatchManwaitedquietly.Theflameofhiscandleneverwaveredastheylittheirfusesfromit.

“Now!”criedtheKeeper,whowashoarsewithshouting.“Nowwecometotherockets!”

All the other fireworks had gone.Nothing remained in the knobbly parcelexceptthreelongblacksticks.

“Noyoudon’t!” said theSweep,as theKeeper snatched them.“Shareandshare. That’s fair!” He gave the Keeper one rocket and kept the others forhimselfandthechildren.

“Makeway,makeway!”saidtheKeeperimportantly,ashelitthefuseatthecandleflameandstuckthestickinaholeintheground.

Hissingandguttering,thesparkranalonglikealittlegoldenthread.Then–whoop!wenttherocketasitshotaway.Upintheskythechildrenheardasmallfar-awaybang.Andaswirlofred-and-bluestarsbrokeoutandraineduponthePark.

“Oh!” cried the children.And “Oh!” cried theSweep. For that is the onlywordanyonecansaywhenarocket’sstarsbreakout.

ThenitwastheSweep’sturn.Thecandle-lightgleamedonhisblackfaceashe lit the fuseofhis rocket.Thencameawhoopandanotherbangandwhite-and-greenstarsspreadovertheskyliketheribsofabrightumbrella.Andagainthewatchersallcried“Oh!”andsighedforsheerjoy.

“It’sour turnnow!”cried JaneandMichael.And their fingers trembledastheylitthefuse.Theypressedthestickdownintotheearthandsteppedbacktowatch.Thegoldenfireranupthefuse.Whe-e-e-ew!Upwenttherocketwithasingingsound,uptotheverytopofthesky.

AndJaneandMichaelheldtheirbreathastheywaitedforittoburst.Atlast,farawayandveryfaint,theyheardthelittlebang.Nowforthestars,theythoughttothemselves.But–alas!–nothinghappened.“Oh!” said everyone again – not for joy this time, but for disappointment.

Fornostarsbrokefromthethirdrocket.Therewasnothingbutdarknessandtheemptysky.

“Tricksy – that’swhat they are!” said the Sweep. “There are some as justdoesn’tgooff!Well,comeon’Ome,all.There’snogoodstaring.Nothingwillcomedownnow!”

“Closing Time! Everyone out of the Park!” cried the Park Keeperimportantly.

But Jane andMichael took no notice. They stood therewatching, hand inhand.For theirhopefuleyeshadnoticedsomething thatnobodyelsehadseen.Up in theskya tinysparkhoveredandswayed in thedarkness.Whatcould itbe?Nottherocket,forthatmusthaveburntitselfoutlongago.Andcertainlynotastar,theythought,forthelittlesparkwasmoving.

“Perhapsit’saspecialkindofrocket,thathasonlyonespark,”saidMichael.“Perhaps,”Janeansweredquietly,asshewatchedthetinylight.Theystoodtogether,gazingupwards.Eveniftherewasonlyonesparkthey

wouldwatchtillitwentout.But,strangelyenough,itdidnotgoout.Infact,itwasgrowinglarger.

“Let’sgetamoveon!”urgedtheSweep.AndagaintheParkKeepercried:

“ClosingTime!”Butstilltheywaited.Andstillthesparkgreweverlargerandbrighter.Then

suddenlyJanecaughtherbreath.AndMichaelgaveagasp.Oh,wasitpossible?Coulditbe?theysilentlyaskedeachother.

Downcamethespark,growinglongerandwider.Andasitcame,ittookona shape that was strange and also familiar. Out of the glowing core of lightemergedacuriousfigure–afigureinablackstrawhatandabluecoattrimmedwithsilverbuttons–afigurethatcarriedinonehandsomethingthatlookedlikeacarpet-bag,andintheother–oh,coulditbetrue?–aparrot-headedumbrella.

BehindthemtheMatchMangaveacryandranthroughtheParkGates.Thecurious figurewasdriftingnow to the topsof thenaked trees. Its feet

touched the highest bough of an oak and stepped down daintily through thebranches.

Itstoodforamomentonthelowestboughandbalanceditselfneatly.JaneandMichaelbegantorunandtheirbreathbrokefromtheminahappy

shout.“Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins!” Half-laughing, half-

weeping,theyflungthemselvesuponher.“You’ve c-come b-back, at l-last!” stammered Michael excitedly, as he

clutchedherneatlyshodfoot.ItwaswarmandbonyandquiterealanditsmeltofBlackBoot-polish.

“Weknewyou’dcomeback.We trustedyou!” Jane seizedMaryPoppins’otherfootanddraggedathercottonstocking.

MaryPoppins’mouthcrinkledwiththeghostofasmile.Thenshelookedatthechildrenfiercely.

“I’llthankyoutoletgoofmyshoes!”shesnapped.“IamnotanobjectinaBargainBasement.”

She shook themoff and steppeddown from the tree, as JohnandBarbara,mewinglikekittens,rushedoverthegrasstowardsher.

“Hyenas!” she said with an angry glare, as she loosened their clutchingfingers.“Andwhat,mayIask,areyoualldoing–runningaboutintheParkatnightandlookinglikeBlackamoors?”

Quicklytheypulledouthandkerchiefsandbegantorubtheircheeks.“My fault, Miss Poppins,” the Sweep apologised. “I been sweeping the

Drawing-roomchimbley.”“Somebodywillbesweepingyou,ifyoudon’tlookout!”sheretorted.“But-but!Glog-glog!Er-rumph!Glug-glug!”Speechlesswithastonishment,

theParkKeeperblockedtheirpath.“Outofmyway,please!”saidMaryPoppins,haughtilybrushinghimaside

asshepushedthechildreninfrontofher.“ThisistheSecondTime!”hegasped,suddenlyfindinghisvoice.“Firstit’s

aKiteandnowit’sa—Youcan’tdothingslikethis,Itellyou!It’sagainsttheLaw.And,furthermore,it’sallagainstNature.”

HeflungouthishandinawildgestureandMaryPoppinspoppedintoitasmallpieceofcardboard.

“Wot’sthis?”hedemanded,turningitover.“MyReturnTicket,”shecalmlyreplied.AndJaneandMichaellookedateachotherandnoddedwiselytogether.“Ticket – wot ticket? Buses have tickets and so do trains. But you came

downonI-don’t-know-what!Wheredidyoucomefrom?’Owdidyouget’ere?That’whatIwanttoknow!”

“CuriosityKilled a Cat!” saidMary Poppins primly. She pushed the ParkKeepertoonesideandlefthimstaringatthelittlegreenticketasthoughitwereaghost.

ThechildrendancedandleaptaboutherastheycametotheParkGates.“Walk quietly, please,” she told them crossly. “You are not a School of

Porpoises!Andwhichof you, I’d like toknow,hasbeenplayingwith lightedcandles?”

TheMatchManscrambledupfromhisknees.“I lit it,Mary,”hesaideagerly.“Iwantedtowriteyoua—”Hewavedhis

hands.Andthereonthepavement,notquitefinished,wastheoneword

WELCOM

MaryPoppinssmiledatthecolouredletters.“That’salovelygreeting,Bert,”shesaidsoftly.

TheMatchMan seized her black-gloved hand, and looked at her eagerly.“ShallIseeyouonThursday,Mary?”heasked.

Shenodded.“Thursday,Bert,”shesaid.Thensheflungawitheringlookatthechildren.

“Nodawdling, ifyouplease!”shecommanded,asshehurried themacross theLanetoNumberSeventeen.

UpintheNurseryAnnabelwasscreamingherheadoff.MrsBankswasrunningalong the hall, calling out soothing phrases.As the children opened the Front

Door,shegaveonelookatMaryPoppins,andcollapseduponthestairs.“Canitbeyou,MaryPoppins?”shegasped.“Itcan,ma’am,”MaryPoppinssaidcalmly.“But–wheredidyouspringfrom?”MrsBankscried.“Shesprangrightoutofa—”Michaelwasjustabouttoexplainwhenhefelt

Mary Poppins’ eyes upon him. He knew verywell what that lookmeant. Hestammeredandwassilent.

“IcamefromthePark,ma’am,”saidMaryPoppins,withthepatientairofamartyr.

“Thank goodness!” breathed Mrs Banks from her heart. Then sherememberedallthathadhappenedsinceMaryPoppinshadleftthem.Imustn’tseemtoopleased,shethought.Orshe’llbemoreuppishthanever!

“You left me Without a Word, Mary Poppins,” she said with an air ofdignity.“Ithinkyoumighttellmewhenyou’recomingandgoing.IneverknowwhereIam.”

“Nobody does,ma’am,” saidMary Poppins, as she calmly unbuttoned hergloves.

“Don’tyou,MaryPoppins?”askedMrsBanks,inaverywistfulvoice.“Oh, she knows,”Michael answered daringly.Mary Poppins gave him an

angryglare.“Well, you’re here, now, anyway!” Mrs Banks cried. She felt extremely

relieved.FornowsheneedneitheradvertisenorsendforMissAndrew.“Yes,ma’am.Excuseme,”saidMaryPoppins.And she neatly stepped past Mrs Banks and put her carpet-bag on the

banisters.ItslidupswiftlywithawhistlingsoundandbouncedintotheNursery.Thenshegavetheumbrellaalittletoss.Itspreaditsblacksilkwingslikeabirdandflewupafterthecarpet-bagwithaparrot-likesquawk.

Thechildrengaveanastonishedgaspandturnedtoseeif theirMotherhadnoticed.

ButMrsBankshadnothoughtforanythingbuttogettothetelephone.“TheDrawing-roomchimneyhasbeencleaned.WearehavingLambChops

andpeasfordinner.AndMaryPoppinsisback!”shecriedbreathlessly.“I don’t believe it!” crackledMr Banks’ voice. “I shall come and see for

myself!”MrsBankssmiledhappilyasshehungupthereceiver.

MaryPoppinswentprimlyup thestairsand thechildren torepasther into the

Nursery.Thereonthehearthlaythecarpet-bag.Andstandinginitsusualcornerwastheparrot-headedumbrella.Theyhadasettled,satisfiedairasthoughtheyhadbeenthereforyears.

In the cradle,Annabel, blue in the face,was tying herself into knots. ShestaredinsurpriseatMaryPoppins,andsmiledatoothlesssmile.ThensheputonherInnocentAngellookandbegantoplaytunesonhertoes.

“Humph!” saidMaryPoppinsgrimly, as sheputher strawhat in its paperbag.Shetookoffhercoatandhungituponthehookbehindthedoor.ThensheglancedatherselfintheNurserymirrorandstoppedtounlockthecarpet-bag.

Itwasquiteemptyexceptforacurled-upTapeMeasure.“What’sthatfor,MaryPoppins?”askedJane.“Tomeasureyou,”sherepliedquickly.“Toseehowyou’vegrown.”“Youneedn’tbother,”Michaelinformedherconfidently.“We’veallgrown

twoinches.Daddymeasuredus.”“Standstraight,please!”MaryPoppinssaidcalmly,ignoringtheremark.She

measuredhimfromhisheadtohisfeetandgavealoudsniff.“I might have known it!” she said, snorting. “You’ve grown Worse and

Worse.”Michael stared.“TapeMeasuresdon’t tellwords, they tell inches,”hesaid

protestingly.“Since when?” she demanded haughtily, as she thrust it under his nose.

ThereontheTapewerethetell-talewordsinbigblueletters:

W-O-R-S-EA-N-DW-O-R-S-E

“Oh!”hesaidinahorrifiedwhisper.“Headup,please!”saidMaryPoppins,stretchingtheTapeagainstJane.“JanehasgrownintoaWilful,Lazy,Selfishchild,”shereadoutintriumph.ThetearscameprickingintoJane’seyes.“Oh,Ihaven’t,MaryPoppins!”she

cried.For, funnilyenough,sheonlyremembered the timeswhenshehadbeengood.

MaryPoppins slipped theTape round theTwins. “Quarrelsome”was theirmeasurement.“FretfulandSpoilt”,wasAnnabel’s.

“Ithoughtso!”MaryPoppinssaid,sniffing.“I’veonlygottoturnmybackforyoutobecomeaMenagerie!”

ShedrewtheTaperoundherownwaist;andasatisfiedsmilespreadoverherface.

“BetterThanEver,PracticallyPerfect,”herownmeasurementread.“Nomore than I expected,” she preened.And added,with a furious glare,

“Now,spit-spotintotheBathroom!”They hurried eagerly to obey her. For now that Mary Poppins was back,

everythingwentwithaswing.Theyundressedandbathedinthewinkofaneye.NobodydawdledoverSupper,nobody left acrumboradrop.Theypushed intheirchairs,foldedtheirnapkinsandscrambledintobed.

Up and down the Nursery wentMary Poppins, tucking them all in. Theycouldsmellheroldfamiliarsmell,amixtureof toastandstarchyaprons.Theycould feel her old familiar shape, solid and real beneath her clothes. Theywatchedherinadoringsilence,drinkingherin.

Michael,asshepassedhisbed,peeredovertheedgeandunderit.Therewasnothing there, except dust and slippers. Then he peeped under Jane’s bed.Nothingthere,either.

“Butwhereareyougoingtosleep,MaryPoppins?”heenquiredcuriously.As he spoke, she touched the door of the clothes cupboard. It burst open

noisilyandoutofit,withagracefulsweep,cametheoldcampbed.Itwasmadeup, ready to be slept in. And upon it, in a neat pile, were Mary Poppins’possessions.ThereweretheSunlightSoapandthehairpins,thebottleofscent,the folding armchair, the toothbrush and the lozenges.Thenightgowns, cottonand flannel aswell,were tidily laid on the pillow.And beside themwere thebootsandthedominoes,andthebathingcapsandthepostcardalbum.

Thechildrensatupinagapingrow.“Buthowdiditgetinthere?”demandedMichael.“Therewasn’tasignofittoday.Iknow,’cosIhidtherefromEllen!”Hedarednotgoonwithhisquestions,however,forMaryPoppinslookedso

haughtythatthewordsfrozeonhislips.Withasniff,sheturnedawayfromhimandunfoldedaflannelnightgown.Jane andMichael looked at each other. And their eyes said all that their

tongues could not: It’s no good expecting her to explain, they told each othersilently.

Theywatchedhercomical scarecrowmovementsas sheundressedbeneaththenightgown.Clip,clip–thebuttonsflewapart.Offwentherpetticoat–swish,swish, swish!Apeaceful feelingstole into thechildren.And theyknew that itcame fromMary Poppins. Dreamily watching the wriggling nightgown, theythoughtofallthathadhappened.Howshehadfirstarrivedatthehouse,blownby theEastWind.Howher umbrella had carried her offwhen thewindwent

round to theWest. They thought how she had come back to themon the daywhentheyflewtheKite;andhowshehadriddenawayoncemoreandleftthemlonelyforhercomfortingpresence.

Well,now–theysighedhappily–shewasbackagain,andjustthesameasever.Hereshewas,settlingdownin theNursery,ascalmlyas thoughshehadnever left it.The thoughtshewas thinking roseup inMichael likebubbles insodawater.Andbeforehecouldstopthem,theyburstrightout.

“Oh,MaryPoppins,”hecriedeagerly,“it’sbeenjustawfulwithoutyou!”Her lip quivered. It seemed as though a smile might break out. But it

changeditsmindanddidn’t.“You’vebeenawful– that’smore like it!Thishouse isnothingbutaBear

Garden.Iwonderanyonestaysinit!”“Butyouwill,won’tyou?”hesaidwheedlingly.“We’llbegoodasgold,ifonlyyou’llstay!”Janepromisedsolemnly.She looked from one to the other calmly, seeing right down inside their

heartsandunderstandingeverything.“I’llstay...”shesaid,afteralittlepause.“I’llstaytillthedooropens.”And

asshespokeshegazedthoughtfullyatthedooroftheNursery.Jane gave a little anxious cry. “Oh, don’t say that, Mary Poppins!” she

wailed.“Thatdoorisalwaysopening!”MaryPoppinsglared.“ImeanttheOtherDoor,”shesaid,asshebuttoneduphernightgown.“Whatcanshemean?”JanewhisperedtoMichael.“Iknowwhatshemeans,”heansweredcleverly.“Thereisn’tanyotherdoor.

And a door that isn’t there, can’t open. So she’s going to stay for ever.” Hehuggedhimselfhappilyatthethought.

Jane,however,wasnotsosure.Iwonder,shethoughttoherself.ButMichaelwentoncheerfullybabbling.“I’mgladIshookhandswiththeSweep,”hesaid.“Itbroughtuswonderful

luck. Perhaps he’ll do the Nursery next and shake hands with you, MaryPoppins!”

“Pooh!”she replied,witha tossofherhead.“Idon’tneedany luck, thankyou!”

“No,”hesaidthoughtfully,“Isupposeyoudon’t.Anyonewhocancomeoutofarocket–asyoudidtonight–mustbebornlucky.Imean–er–oh,don’tlookatme!”

Hegave a little beseeching cry, forMaryPoppinswasglaring at him in a

way that made him shudder. Standing there in her flannel nightgown, sheseemedtofreezehiminhiscosybed.

“Iwonder if I heard you correctly?” she enquired in an icy voice. “Did Iunderstand you tomentionMe – in connection with a Rocket?” She said theword“Rocket”insuchawayastomakeitseemquiteshocking.

In terror, Michael glanced about him. But no help came from the otherchildren.Andheknewhewouldhavetogothroughwithit.

“Butyoudid,MaryPoppins!”heprotestedbravely.“Therocketwentpop!andthereyouwere,comingoutofitdownthesky!”

Sheseemedtogrowlargerasshecametowardshim.“Pop?”sherepeatedfuriously.“Ipopped–andcameoutofarocket?”Heshrankbackfeeblyagainstthepillow.“Well–that’swhatitlookedlike–

didn’tit,Jane?”“Hush!”whisperedJane,withashakeofherhead.Sheknewitwasnogood

arguing.“Ihavetosayit,MaryPoppins!Wesawyou!”Michaelwailed.“Andifyou

didn’tcomeoutoftherocket,whatdid!Thereweren’tanystars!”“Pop!” saidMary Poppins again. “Out of a rocket with a pop! You have

ofteninsultedme,MichaelBanks,butthisistheVeryWorst.IfIhearanymoreaboutPops–orRockets...”Shedidnottellhimwhatshewoulddobutheknewitwouldbedreadful.

“Wee-twee!Wee-twee!”Asmallvoicesoundedfromthewindow-sill.AnoldStarlingpeeredintothe

Nurseryandflappedhiswingsexcitedly.MaryPoppinsboundedtothewindow.“Beoff,yousparrer!”shesaidfiercely.AndastheStarlingdartedawayshe

switchedout the lightandpounced intobed.Theyheardherangrilymuttering“Pop!”asshepulledtheblanketsup.

Then silence settled over them like a soft comforting cloud. It had almostfoldedthemtosleepwhenthefaintestmurmurcamefromJane’sbed.

“Michael!”shesaidinacarefulwhisper.Hesatupcautiouslyandlookedinthedirectionofherpointingfinger.From thecornerby the fireplacecamea littleglowof light.And theysaw

thatthefoldsoftheparrotumbrellawerefullofcolouredstars–thekindofstarsyouexpecttoseewhenarocketbreaksinthesky.

Their eyes grew wide with astonishment as the parrot’s head bent down.Then, one by one, its beak plucked the stars from the silken folds and threw

themonthefloor.Theygleamedforamoment,goldandsilver,thenfadedandwentout.Thentheparrotheadstraighteneduponthehandle,andMaryPoppins’blackumbrellastoodstiffandstillinitscorner.

Thechildren lookedat eachotherand smiled.But they saidnothing.Theycouldonlywonderandbesilent.TheyknewtherewerenotenoughwordsintheDictionaryforthethingsthathappenedtoMaryPoppins.

“Tick-tock!”saidtheclockonthemantelpiece.“Gotosleep,children!Tick,tock,tick!”

Thentheyclosed theireyeson thehappydayandtheclockkept timewiththeirquietbreathing.

MrBankssatandsnoredinhisstudywithanewspaperoverhisface.MrsBankswassewingnewblackbuttonsonhisoldovercoat.

“Are you still thinking what you might have done if you hadn’t gotmarried?”sheasked.

“Eh, what?” said Mr Banks, waking up. “Well, no. It’s much too muchtrouble. And now that Mary Poppins is back, I shan’t have to think aboutanything.”

“Good,”saidMrsBanks,sewingbriskly.“AndI’lltryandteachRobertsonAy.”

“Teachhimwhat?”MrBankssaidsleepily.“Nottogiveyouoneblackandonebrown,ofcourse!”“You’lldonothingofthekind,”MrBanksinsisted.“Themixturewasmuch

admiredattheOffice.Ishallalwayswearthemthatwayinfuture.”“Indeed?”saidMrsBanks,smilinghappily.Onthewhole,shefeltgladMr

Bankshadmarried.AndnowthatMaryPoppinswasback,shewouldtellhimsomoreoften...

Downstairs in thekitchensatMrsBrill.ThePolicemanhad justbroughtEllenhomeandwasstayingforaCupofTea.

“ThatMaryPoppins!”hesaid,sipping.“She’s’eretodayandgonetomorrer,justlikethemWilly-the-Wisps!”

“Ow!Don’tsaythat!”saidEllen,sniffing.“Ithoughtshewascometostay.”ThePolicemangaveherhishandkerchief.“Maybeshewill!”hetoldherfondly.“Younevercantell,youknow.”“Well, I’m sure I hope so,” sighed Mrs Brill. “This ’ouse is a Model

ResidencewheneverMaryPoppinsisinit.”

“I hope so too. I need a rest,” said Robertson Ay to the brooms. And hesnuggleddownunderMrsBanks’shawlandwenttosleepagain.

ButwhatMaryPoppinshoped, noneof themknew.ForMaryPoppins, aseveryoneknows,nevertoldanyoneanything...

ChapterTwo

MRTWIGLEY’SWISHES

“OH, DO COME on, Mary Poppins!” saidMichael impatiently, dancing up anddownonthepavement.

Mary Poppins took no notice. Shewas standing in the Lane admiring herreflectioninthebrassplateonDr.Simpson’sgate.

“Youlookquitetidy!”Janeassuredher.“Tidy!” Mary Poppins snorted. Tidy, in her new black hat with the blue

bow?Tidyindeed!Handsome,shethought,wouldbenearerthemark.Tossingherhead,shestrodeonquicklyandtheyhadtoruntokeepupwithher.

ThethreeofthemwerewalkingthroughthefineMayafternoontofindMrTwigley.FortheDrawing-roompianowasoutoftuneandMrsBankshadaskedMaryPoppinstofindapiano-tuner.

“There’smycousin,ma’am,MrTwigley.Justthreeblocksfromhere,”MaryPoppinshadannounced.

AndwhenMrsBankssaidshehadneverheardofhim,MaryPoppins,withherusualsniff,hadremindedMrsBanksthatherrelativeswerecomposedoftheVeryBestPeople.

And now Jane andMichael, who had alreadymet twomembers ofMaryPoppins’family,werewonderingwhatMrTwigleywouldbelike.

“IthinkhewillbetallandthinlikeMrTurvy,”saidMichael.“IthinkhewillberoundandfatlikeMrWigg,”saidJane.“I never knew such a pair for thinking!” saidMaryPoppins. “You’llwear

yourbrainsout.Turnhere,please!”Theyhurriedalongandturnedacorner,andfoundthemselvesstandingina

narrowstreetlinedwithsmall,old-fashionedhouses.“Why,whatstreetisthis?Ineversawitbefore!AndI’vebeenherelotsof

times!”criedJane.“Well,don’tblameme!”MaryPoppinssnapped.“Youdon’tsupposeIputit

there!”“I shouldn’twonder if you did!” saidMichael, as he gazed at the strange

littlehouses.Thenheadded,withaflatteringsmile,“You’resoveryclever,youknow!”

“Humph!” she said tartly, though her mouth took on a conceited look.“Cleverisascleverdoes.Andit’smorethanyouare,anyway!”And,sniffing,sheledthemdownthestreetandrangthebellofoneofthehouses.

“Pang!”said thebell loudly.Andat thesamemomentanupstairswindowswungopen.A largehead,with a knobof hair at theback, bobbedout like aJack-in-the-Box.

“Well,what’sthematternow?”aharshvoicecried.ThenthewomanlookeddownandspiedMaryPoppins.“Oh,it’syou,isit?”shesaidangrily.“Well,youcanjust turnroundandgobacktowhereveryoucamefrom.Heisn’t in!”Thewindowswungtoandtheheaddisappeared.Thechildrenfeltverydisappointed.

“Perhapswecancomeagaintomorrow,”saidJaneanxiously.“Today–orNever.That’smymotto!”snappedMaryPoppins.Andsherang

thebellagain.Thistimeitwasthefrontdoorthatburstopen.Theowneroftheheadstood

before them,glowering.Shewore largeblackboots,ablue-and-whitecheckedapronandablackshawlroundhershoulders.JaneandMichaelthoughtshewastheugliestpersontheyhadeverseen.AndtheyfeltverysorryforMrTwigley.

“What–youagain!”thehugewomanshouted.“Itoldyouhewasn’tin.Andinheisnot,ormyname’snotSarahClump!”

“Thenyouaren’tMrsTwigley!”exclaimedMichaelwithrelief.“Notyet,”sheremarked,withanominoussmile.“Here!Downyoucome,all

ofyou!”sheadded.ForMaryPoppins,withthespeedofaserpent,hadslippedthroughthedoorwayandwasdraggingthechildrenupthestairs.“Doyouhearme?I’llhavetheLawonyou,burstingintoadecentwoman’shouselikeasetofVampires!”

“Decent!”saidMaryPoppins,snorting.“Ifyou’redecentI’maDromedary!”Andsherappedthreetimesonadooratherright.

“Who’s there?” called an anxious voice from within. Jane and Michaeltrembledwithexcitement.PerhapsMrTwigleywasathome,afterall!

“It’sme,CousinFred.Unlockthedoor,please!”Therewasamoment’ssilence.Thenthesoundofakeybeingturnedinthe

lock.ThedooropenedandMaryPoppins,pullingthechildrenafterher,shutitandlockeditagain.

“Letmein–youPirate!”roaredMrsClump,angrilyrattlingthehandle.MaryPoppinslaughedquietly.Thechildrenglancedaboutthem.Theywere

in a large attic litteredwith scraps ofwood, tins of paint and bottles of glue.Everyavailablespace in the roomwasfilledwithmusical instruments.Aharpstood in one corner and in anotherwas a pile of drums.Trumpets andviolinshung from the rafters; flutes and tin-whistles were stacked on the shelves. Adustycarpenter’sbenchbythewindowwaslitteredwithcarpenter’stools.Andon the edge of the bench was a small polished box with a tiny screw-drivertossedbesideit.

In themiddle of the floor stood five half-finishedmusical boxes.Brightlytheyshoneintheirfreshnewcoloursandroundthem,chalkedontheboardsinlargewhiteletters,werethewords

WETPAINT

Thewhole attic smelt deliciously ofwood-shavings, paint and glue.Therewasonlyonethingmissingfromit.AndthatwasMrTwigley.

“Will you let me in or shall I go for the Police?” shouted Mrs Clump,banging again. Mary Poppins took no notice. And presently they heard herthumpingdownstairs,mutteringfuriouslyasshewent.

“Hasshegone?”athinvoicecackledanxiously.“She’sgonedownstairsandI’velockedthedoor!Now,whathaveyoudone

withyourself,please,Fred?”MaryPoppinsgaveanimpatientsniff.“I’vewished,Mary!”chirpedthevoiceagain.JaneandMichaelstaredroundthedustyattic.WherecouldMrTwigleybe?“Oh,Fred!Don’ttellmeit’sthe—!Well,wishagain,please,whereveryou

are!Ihaven’talldaytowaste.”“Allright!I’mcoming!Noneedforexcitement!”Theviolinsplayedastaveofmusic.Then,outoftheair–asitseemedtothe

children–cametwoshortlegscladinbaggytrousers.Theywerefollowedbyabodyinanoldfrock-coat.Andlastofallcamea longwhitebeard,awrinkledfacewithglassesonitsnose,andabaldheadinasmokingcap.

“Really,Cousin Fred!” saidMary Poppins crossly. “You’re old enough toknowbetter!”

“Nonsense,Mary!”saidMrTwigley,beaming.“Nobody’severoldenoughtoknowbetter!I’msureyouagreewithme,youngman!”HelookedatMichaelwithhistwinklyeyes.AndMichaelcouldn’thelptwinklingback.

“Butwherewereyouhiding?”hedemanded.“Youcouldn’thavejustcomeoutoftheair.”

“Oh,yes,Icould!”saidMrTwigley.“IfIwished,”headded,asheskippedroundtheroom.

“Youmean,youjustwished–andyoudisappeared?”Withaglanceatthedoor,MrTwigleynodded.“Ihadto–togetawayfromher!”“Why?Whatwouldshedotoyou?”askedJane.“Why?Becauseshewantstomarryme!Shewantstogetmywishes.”“Doyougeteverythingyouwishfor?”askedMichaelenviously.“Oh,everything.Thatis,ifIwishonthefirstNewMoon,aftertheSecond

Wet Sunday, after the Third ofMay.And she. . .”Mr Twigleywaved at thedoor.“ShewantsmetowishforaGoldenPalaceandPeacockPieeverydayfordinner.WhatwouldIdowithagoldenpalace?AllthatIwantis—”

“Becareful,Fred!”warnedMaryPoppins.Mr Twigley clapped his hand to his mouth. “Tut, tut! I really must

remember!I’veuseduptwowishesalready!”“Howmanydoyouget?”askedJane.“Seven,”saidMrTwigley,sighing.“MyGodmotherthoughtthatasuitable

number.Iknowtheoldladymeantitkindly.ButI’dratherhaveaSilverMug.Moreuseful.Andmuchlesstrouble.”

“I’dratherhavewishes,”saidMichaelstoutly.“Oh, no, you wouldn’t!” criedMr Twigley. “They’re tricky. And hard to

handle.Youthinkouttheloveliestthingstoaskfor–thenSupperTimecomesand you’re feeling hungry and you find yourself wishing for Sausage andMashed!”

“Whataboutthetwoyou’vealreadyhad?Weretheyanygood?”demandedMichael.

“Well,notbad,nowIcometothinkofit.IwasworkingonmyBirdiethere–”MrTwigleynodded towardshisbench–“when Iheardher comingup thestairs.‘Oh,goodness!’Ithought,‘IwishIcouldvanish!’And–whenIlookedround,Iwasn’tthere!Itgavemequiteaturnforamoment.NowondershetoldyouIwasout!”

MrTwigleygaveahappycackleashebeamedatthechildrenandswunghiscoat-tails.Theyhadneverseensuchatwinklyperson.Heseemedtothemmorelikeastarthanaman.

“Then,ofcourse,”MrTwigleywentonblandly,“IhadtowishmyselfbackagaininordertoseeMaryPoppins!Now,Mary,whatcanIdoforyou?”

“MrsBankswould like her piano tuned, please, Fred.Number Seventeen,

CherryTreeLane,oppositethePark,”MaryPoppinssaidprimly.“They’reJaneandMichaelBanks,”sheexplained,glancingat themwitha

lookofdisgust.“Delighted.Icallthisaverygreathonour!”MrTwigleybowedandflungout

his hands. “Iwish I could offer you something to eat but I’m all at sixes andsevenstoday.”

Afluteranggailythroughtheattic.“What’s this?” Mr Twigley staggered back. In each of his upturned

outstretchedhandslayadishofPeaches-and-Cream.MrTwigleystared.Thenhesniffedatthepeaches.“Theregoesmythirdwish!”hesaidruefully,ashehandedthedishestothe

children.“Well,itcan’tbehelped.I’vestillgotfourmore.AndnowIshallhavetobereallycareful!”

“Ifyoumustwastewishes,CousinFred, Iwishyouwouldwaste themonBreadandButter.You’llspoiltheirSupper!”snappedMaryPoppins.

JaneandMichaelspooneduptheirpeacheshurriedly.TheywerenotgoingtogiveMrTwigleythechanceofwishingthemawayagain.

“And now,” said Mary Poppins, as the last mouthful disappeared, “sayThankYoutoMrTwigleyandwe’llgetalonghome.”

“Oh,no,Mary!Why,you’veonlyjustcome!”MrTwigleywassoshockedthatforoncehestoodquitestill.

“Oh,dostayalittlelonger,MaryPoppins!”JaneandMichaelbegged.ThethoughtofleavingMrTwigleyallalonewithhiswisheswastoomuchforthem.

MrTwigleytookMaryPoppins’hand.“I feel somuch saferwhen you’re here,Mary!And it’s ages sincewe’ve

seeneachother!Whynotstayforawhile–Iwishyouwould!”Jug,jug,jug,jug!Ashowerofbirdnotesbrokeontheair.Atthesamemomentthedetermined

lookonMaryPoppins’facechangedtoapolitesmile.Shetookoffherhatandlaiditonthebenchbesidetheglue-pot.

“Oh,my!”Mr Twigley gasped in horror. I’ve been and gone and done itagain!”

“That’s four!” cried Jane andMichael gaily, shoutingwith laughter at hislookofsurprise.

Four,four,four,four!Thebirdnotesechoed.“Dear me! How careless! I’m ashamed of myself!” For a moment Mr

Twigleylookedalmostsad.Thenhisfaceandfeetbegantotwinkle.“Well,it’s

nogoodcryingoverspiltwishes.Wemustjusttakecareoftheonesthatareleft.I’mcoming,myDuckling!I’mcoming,myChick!”hecalledinthedirectionofthebirdnotes.

And,trippingtothecarpenter’sbench,hetookupthelittlepolishedbox.Hisfingers touchedawoodenspring.The lidflewopenand thesmallest,brightestbirdthechildrenhadeverseen,leaptupfromanestofgold.Clearjetsofmusicpouredfromitsbeak.Itssmallthroatthrobbedwiththestreamofnotes.

Jug,Jug,Jug,Jug– tereu! it sang.Andwhen theburningsongwasendedthebirddroppedbacktoitsgoldennest.

“Oh,MrTwigley,what bird is that?” Jane looked at the boxwith shiningeyes.

“ANightingale,”Mr Twigley told her. “I wasworking on himwhen youcame in. He has to be finished tonight, you see. Such lovely weather fornightingales.”

“Whydon’tyou justwish?”suggestedMichael.“Thenyouneedn’tdoanywork.”

“What!Wish onmyBirdie?Certainly not!You seewhat happenswhen Istartwishing.Why–hemightturnintoaBald-headedEagle!”

“Will you keep him to sing to you always?” Jane asked enviously. Shewishedshecouldhavealittlebirdlikethat.

“Keep him?Oh, dear, no! I’ll set him free! Can’t litter the place upwithfinished work. I’vemore things to do than take care of a bird. I have to putfiguresonthose...”henoddedtothehalf-finishedmusicalboxes.“AndI’vegotarushorderthatmustbefinished–amusicboxplaying‘ADayinthePark’.”

“ADayinthePark?”Thechildrenstared.“TheBand,youknow!”MrTwigleyexplained.“Andthesoundoffountains.

Andgossiping ladies.Rookscaw-cawing,andchildren laughing,and theslow,softmurmuroftreesastheygrow.”

Mr Twigley’s eyes glowed behind his spectacles as he thought of all thelovelythingshewouldputinthemusicalbox.

“But you can’t hear trees growing,” protestedMichael. “There’s nomusicforthat!”

“Tut!”saidMrTwigleyimpatiently.“Ofcoursethereis!There’samusicforeverything. Didn’t you ever hear the earth spinning? It makes a sound like ahumming-top.BuckinghamPalaceplays‘RuleBritannia’;theRiverThamesisadrowsyflute.Dearme,yes!Everythingintheworld–trees,rocksandstarsandhumanbeings–theyallhavetheirowntruemusic.”

Ashespoke,MrTwigley trippedacross the floorandwoundupamusicalbox. Immediately the littleplatformat the topbegan to turn.And fromwithincameaclearhighpipinglikethesoundofapennywhistle.

“That’smine!”saidMrTwigleyproudly,ashecockedhisheadtolisten.Hewoundupanothermusicalboxandanewtunefellontheair.

“That’s ‘London Bridge is Falling Down!’ It’s my favourite song!” criedMichael.

“WhatdidItellyou?”smiledMrTwigley,asheturnedanotherhandle.Thetunebrokegailyfromthebox.

“That’s mine!” said Jane, with a crow of delight. “It’s ’Oranges andLemons’.”

“Ofcourseitis!”twinkledMrTwigley.Andgailyseizingthechildren’shandshesweptthemawayacrosstheattic.

Thethreelittleplatformsturnedandspunandthethreetunesmingledintheair.

“LondonBridgeisFallingDown,Danceover,myLadyLeigh!”

sangMichael.

“OrangesandLemons,SaidtheBellsofSt.Clements”

sangJane.AndMrTwigleywhistledlikeahappyblackbird.Thefeetofthechildrenwerelightaswingsastheydancedtotheirowntrue

music.Neverbefore,theytoldthemselves,hadtheyfeltsolightandmerry.Bang!Thefrontdoorslammedandshookthehouse.MrTwigleypausedon

one toeand listened.Thump!Thump!came the footstepson thestairs.A loudvoicerumbledacrossthelanding.

MrTwigleygaveagaspofhorror,andswunghiscoat-tailsoverhisears.“She’scoming!”heshrieked.“Oh,dear!Oh,my!IwishIwereinanicesafe

place!”A blast of music came from the trumpets. And then a strange thing

happened.MrTwigley,as thoughbyanunseenhand,was snatched from the floorof

theattic.Offhewent,hurtlingpastthechildren,likeaseedofthistledowntossedbythewind.Thenchokingandgasping,shakingandpanting,helandeduponhis

musical box.He did not seem to have grown smaller nor the box larger.Yet,somehow,theyfittedperfectlytogether.

Round and round Mr Twigley spun and upon his face spread a smile oftriumph.

“I’msafe!”heyelled, ashewaved to the children. “She’ll never catchmenow!”

“Hooray!” theywere just about to shout, but thewordwas caught in theirthroats, like a hiccup. For something had seized them by the hair and wasflingingthembothacrosstheattic.Theirarmsandlegswentsprawlingwildlyastheylandedupontheirmusicalboxes.Theywobbledalittleforamoment,butsoontheyweresteadilywhirlinground.

“Oh!”pantedJane.“Whatalovelysurprise!”“Ifeellikeaspinningtop!”shoutedMichael.MrTwigleygavealittlestartandstaredattheminastonishment.“DidIdothat?GoodGraciousme!I’mgettingquitecleveratwishing.”“Clever!”saidMaryPoppins,sniffing.“Ridiculous–that’swhatIcallit!”“Well,atleastit’ssafe,”saidMrTwigley.“Andratherpleasant.Whydon’t

youtryit!”“Wish!”urgedMichael,withawaveofhishand.“Ah!Shedoesn’tneedto,”saidMrTwigley,withacuriousglanceatMary

Poppins.“Well,ifyouinsist...”shesaidwithanothersniff.Andplacinghertwofeet

neatlytogethersherosefromthefloorandsweptpasttherafters.Then,withouta smile, not even a wobble, she alighted upon a musical box. Immediately,thoughnoonehadwoundit,thetunebrokegailyout.

“RoundandroundtheCobbler’sbench,TheMonkeychasedtheWeasel,

TheMonkeysaiditwasallinfun–PopgoestheWeasel!”

itsang.And round and round went Mary Poppins, as calmly as though she had

turnedandspunfromtheverydayshewasborn.“Nowwe’realltogether!”Janecriedhappily.Sheglancedatthewindowand

wavedherhandtodrawMichael’sattention.Outside in the street the little houseswere revolving on their foundations.

Above in the sky spun twowhite clouds.And the attic itself, like themusicalboxes,wasturningroundandround.

Butloudlythoughthefourtunesrang,anothersoundcouldbeheardabovethem.Thump!Thump!Theheavystepscamenearer.

Andthenextmomentsomebodybangedonthedoor.“Open, I say, in the name of the Law!” cried a voice that was somehow

familiar.Astronghandtwistedthericketylock.Andthen,withacrash,thedoorburst

open.OnthethresholdstoodMrsClumpandthePoliceman.Theystared.Theireyespopped.Theirmouthsfellopenwithastonishment.

“Well,ofalltheshamefulsights!”criedMrsClump.“IneverthoughttoseethishouseturnedintoanAmusementPark!”SheshookherfistatMaryPoppins.“You’regoing togetyour reward,mygirl.ThePolicemanherewilldealwithyou!Andasforyou,MrTwigley,downyougetfromthatsillyrazzle-dazzleandcombyourhairandputonyourhat.We’regoingofftobemarried!”

MrTwigleyshuddered.Butheswunghiscoat-tailsjauntily.

“Don’tshoutandthumpPlease,MrsClump,Itmakesmejump!”

hesangashespedround.ThePolicemantookoutnotebookandpencil.“Comeon!Stopspinning,allofyou.I’masgiddyasaGardenGoat.AndI

wantanExplanation!”MrTwigleygaveagleefulcackle.“You’ve come to the wrong place, Officer dear! I’ve never yet made an

Explanation.Andwhat’smore,asIusedtosaytomyboy,Methuselah,Idon’tbelievein’em!”

“Now, now, joking’ll only make things worse. You can’t tell me you’reMethuselah’sfather!”ThePolicemansmiledaknowingsmile.

“Grandfather!”MrTwigleyretorted,ashesailedgracefullyround.“Now,that’senough.Youjustcomedown!Thisspinningandtwirlingisbad

forthe’Ealth.AndnotpermittedinPrivateDwellings.’Ere!’Oo’sthatpullingme!Letmego!”ThePolicemangaveafrightenedshriekasheshotoffhisfeetand through the air.Amusic box broke into noisy song as he dropped like astoneuponit.

“Daisy,Daisy,givemeyouranswer,do!

I’vegonecrazy,allfortheloveofyou!”

itshouted.“’Elp!’Elp!It’sme–PC32calling!”ThePolicemanwildlysnatchedathis

whistleandblewaresoundingblast.“Officer!”shoutedMrsClump.“YoudoyourdutyorI’llhave theLawon

you too.Get down and arrest thatwoman!” She thrust a huge finger atMaryPoppins. “I’ll have you put behind bars, my girl. I’ll have you – Here! Stopspinningmeround!”Hereyesgrewwidewithangryamazement.Foracuriousthingwashappening.

Slowly,onthespotwhereshestood,MrsClumpbegantorevolve.Shehadnomusicalbox,noplatform,shesimplywentroundandroundonthefloor.Theboardsgavealoudprotestingcreakasthehugeshapeturneduponthem.

“Well,that’sfixedyou!”criedMrTwigley.

“TryandjumpDearMrsClump!”

headvisedher,withagleefulshriek.AshudderofhorrorshookMrsClumpasshetriedtomoveherlargeblack

boots. She struggled. She writhed. She wriggled her body. But her feet werefirmlygluedtothefloor.

“Clevergirl,Mary!I’dneverhavethoughtit!”MrTwigleysmiledatMaryPoppinswithprideandadmiration.

“Thisisyourdoing–youwilful,wicked,cold-heartedVarmint!”MrsClumpgaveanangry shoutas she tried toclutchatMaryPoppins. “But I’llget evenwithyouyet–ormyname’snotSarahClump!”

“It’llneverbeTwigley,anyway!”shriekedMrTwigleyjoyously.“I want to go home! I want the Police Station!” wailed the Policeman,

spinningmadly.“Well,nobody’skeepingyou,I’msure!”saidMaryPoppins,sniffing.Asshe

spokethePoliceman’sboxcametoastandstillandhestumbledoffit,panting.“ScotlandYard!”hecried, staggering to thedoor. “Imust see theChief! I

must make a Report.” And, blowing a frantic peal on his whistle, he fleddownstairsandoutofthehouse.

“Comeback,youVillain!”screamedMrsClump.“He’sgone!”shewenton,asthefrontdoorbanged.“Oh,whatshallIdo?Help!Murder!Fire!”

Herfacegrewredasshetriedtofreeherself.But itwasnogood.Herfeet

werefirmlyfixedtothefloor,andsheflungoutherarmswithacryofanguish.“Mr Twigley!” she begged. “Please helpme, sir! I’ve always cooked you

tastymeals.I’vealwayskeptyoucleanandtidy.Youwon’thavetomarryme,Ipromise.Ifyou’llonlywishforsomethingtosetmefree!”

“Be careful, Fred!” warned Mary Poppins, as she twirled in a dignifiedmanner.

“AWishinTimesavesNine!Nowletmethink!”murmuredMrTwigley.He pressed his fingers to his eyes. Jane and Michael could see he was

makinganefforttowishSomethingReallyUseful.Foramomenthespunround,deepinthought.Thenhelookedup,smiling,andclappedhishands.

“MrsClump,”hecriedgaily. “Youshall be free! Iwish foryouaGoldenPalaceandPeacockPieeverydayfordinner.But–”hewinkedacrossatMaryPoppins–“mykindofpalace,MrsClump!Andmykindofpie!”

Arollofdrumsboomedthroughtheattic.MrsClumplookedatMaryPoppinsandsmiledasmileoftriumph.“Aha!”shesaidsmugly.“WhatdidItellyou?”Butevenasshespoketheproudsmilefaded.Itchangedtoalookofpurest

terror.For Mrs Clump was no longer a large fat woman. Her buxom body was

rapidlyshrinking.Herfeetastheyspunonthecreakingfloorgrewsmallerwitheveryturn.

“What’s this?” she panted. “Oh,what can it be?”Her arms and legs grewshortandskinnyasherfiguredwindledtohalfitssize.

“Police!Fire!Murder!SOS!”Hervoicegrewthinnerassheshrank.“Oh,MrTwigley!Whathaveyoudone?Police!Police!”squeakedthetiny

voice.Asshespokethefloorgaveanangryheaveandflungher,spinning,intothe

air.Shebouncedbackwithafranticshriekandstumbledawayacrosstheroom.Andas she ran shegrewsmaller thanever andhermovementmoreandmorejerky.Onemoment shewas the sizeof akitten and thenextnobigger than asmall-sizedmouse.Awayshewent,stumblingandbouncingandtripping,tillatthe end of the attic she dashed into a tiny golden palace that had suddenlyappeared.

“Oh,whydidIspeaktohim?Whathashedone?”MrsClumpcriedoutinatinnyvoice.

And looking through one of the golden windows, the children saw hercollapse on a chair before a small tin pie. She began to cut it with jerky

movementsasthepalacedoorclosedwithabang.At thatmoment theboxes ceased to spin.Themusic stopped and the attic

wassilent.DownfromhisboxsprangMrTwigleyandrantothegoldenpalace.Witha

cryofdelighthepickeditupandgazedatthescenewithin.“Veryclever!Ireallymustcongratulatemyself.Allitneedsnowisapenny-

in-the-slot and then itwilldo forBrightonPier.OnePenny,OnlyOnePenny,folks! To see the Fat Woman Eating the Pie! Roll up! Roll up! Only OnePenny!”

Waving the palace,MrTwigleywent gaily capering round the room. JaneandMichael,leapingdownfromtheirboxes,ranafterhimandcaughthiscoat-tails. They peered through the windows at Mrs Clump. There was a look ofhorroronhermechanicalfaceasshecuthermechanicalpie.

“Thatwasyoursixthwish!”Michaelremindedhim.“Itwasindeed!”MrTwigleyagreed.“AReallyusefulidea,foronce!Where

there’sawishthere’saway,yousee!Especiallyifshe’saround!”HenoddedatMary Poppins who was stepping off her musical box in the most majesticmanner.

“Getyourhats,please!”shecommandedsharply.“IwanttogethomeforaCupofTea.IamnotaDesertCamel.”

“Oh, just onemoment, please,MaryPoppins!MrTwigley’s got onemorewish!”

JaneandMichael,bothtalkingatonce,weretuggingatherhands.“Why,soIhave!I’dquiteforgotten.Now,whatshallI—?”“CherryTreeLane, remember,Fred!”MaryPoppins’ voicehad awarning

note.“Oh,I’mgladyouremindedme.Justasecond!”MrTwigleyputhishandto

hisbrowandascaleofmusicsounded.“Whatdidyouwish?”askedJaneandMichael.ButMrTwigleyseemedsuddenlytohavebecomedeaf,forhetooknonotice

of the question. He shook hands hurriedly as though, having wished all hiswishes,hewasnowanxioustobealone.

“Youhavetobegoing,yousaid?Howsad!Isthisyourhat?Well,delightedyoucame! Ihope–are theseyourgloves,dearMary?– Ihopeyou’llpaymeanothervisitwhenmywishescomeroundagain!”

“Whenwillthatbe?”demandedMichael.“Oh,inaboutninetyyearsorso,”MrTwigleyansweredairily.

“Butwe’llbequiteoldbythen!”saidJane.“Maybe,”hereplied,withalittleshrug.“ButatleastnotasoldasIam!”AndwiththathekissedMaryPoppinsonbothcheeksandhustledthemout

oftheroom.ThelastthingtheysawwashisjubilantsmileashebegantofixaPenny-in-

the-SlottoMrsClump’spalace...

Later,whentheycametothinkaboutit,JaneandMichaelcouldneverrememberhowtheygotoutofMrTwigley’shouseandintoCherryTreeLane.Itseemedasthough at one moment they were on the dusty stairs and the next they werefollowingMaryPoppinsthroughthepearlyeveninglight.

Janeglancedbackforonelastlookatthelittlehouse.“Michael!”shesaidinastartledwhisper.“It’sgone.Everything’sgone!”Helookedround.Yes!Janewasright.Thelittlestreetandtheold-fashioned

houseswerenowheretobeseen.TherewasonlytheshadowyParkbeforethemandthewell-knowncurveofCherryTreeLane.

“Well,wherehavewebeenallafternoon?”saidMichael,staringabouthim.ButitneededsomeonewiserthanJanetoanswerthatquestiontruly.“Wemusthavebeensomewhere,”shesaidsensibly.ButthatwasnotenoughforMichael.HerushedawaytoMaryPoppinsand

pulledatherbestblueskirt.“Mary Poppins, where have we been today? What’s happened to Mr

Twigley?”“HowshouldIknow?”snappedMaryPoppins.“I’mnotanEncyclopaedia.”“Buthe’sgone!And thestreet’sgone!AndI suppose themusicalboxhas

gonetoo–theonehewentroundonthisafternoon!”MaryPoppinsstoodstillonthekerbandstared.“Acousinofmineonamusicalbox?Whatnonsenseyoudo talk,Michael

Banks!”“But he did!” cried Jane and Michael together. “We all went round on

musicalboxes.Eachofustoourowntruemusic.Andyourswas‘PopGoestheWeasel’.”

Hereyesblazedsternlythroughthedarkness.Sheseemedtogrowlargerassheglared.

“Each to our –weasel? Round and round?”Really, shewas so angry shecouldhardlygetthewordsout.

“Ontopofamusicalbox,didyousay?So,thisiswhatIgetformypains!

You spend the afternoon with a well-brought-up, self-respecting pair like mycousin and myself. And all you can do afterwards is to make a mock of us.Roundandroundwithaweasel,indeed!ForTwoPinsI’dleaveyou–here,onthisspot–andnevercomeback!Iwarnyou!”

“On top of a musical weasel!” she fumed, as she stalked through thegatheringdusk.

Snap,snap,wentherheelsalongthepavement.Evenherbackhadanangrylook.

Jane and Michael hurried after her. It was no good arguing with MaryPoppins,especiallywhenshe looked like that.Thebest thing todowas tosaynothing.Andbeglad therewasnobody in theLane to offer herTwoPins. Insilencetheywalkedalongbesideher,andthoughtof theafternoon’sadventureandlookedateachotherandwondered...

*

“Oh,Mary Poppins!” saidMrs Banks brightly, as she opened the front door.“I’m sorry, but I don’t need your cousin, after all. I tried the piano again justnow.Andit’squiteintune.Infact,betterthanever.”

“I’mgladofthat,ma’am,”saidMaryPoppins,stealingaglanceatherselfinthemirror.“Mycousinwillmakenocharge.”

“Well, I should think not!” criedMrsBanks indignantly. “Why, he hasn’tevenbeenhere.”

“Exactly,ma’am,”saidMaryPoppins.Shesniffedassheturnedtowardsthestairs.

JaneandMichaelexchangedasecretlook.“Thatmusthavebeentheseventhwish!”Michaelwhispered.AndJanegave

anansweringnod.Jug,jug,jug,jug–tereu!FromtheParkcameashowerofwildsweetmusic.Ithadafamiliarsound.“Whatcanthatbe?”criedMrsBanks,assherantothedoortolisten.“Good

gracious!It’saNightingale!”Downfromthebranchesfellthesong,notebynote,likeplumsfromatree.It

burntupontheeveningair.Itthrobbedthroughthelisteningdusk.“Howverystrange!”saidMrsBanks.“Theyneversinginthecity!”Behindherbackthechildrennoddedandlookedateachotherwisely.“It’sMrTwigley’s,”murmuredJane.

“He’ssetitfree!”answeredMichaelsoftly.And they knew, as they listened to the burning song that somewhere,

somehow, Mr Twigley was true – as true as his little golden bird that wassingingnowinthePark.

TheNightingalesangoncemoreandwassilent.MrsBankssighedandshutthedoor.“IwishIknewwherehecamefrom!”

shesaiddreamily.ButJaneandMichael,whocouldhavetoldher,werealreadyhalfwayupthe

stairs. So they said nothing. There were things that could be explained, theyknew,andthingsthatcouldnotbeexplained.

Besides,therewereCurrantBunsforTeaandtheyknewwhatMaryPoppinswouldsayiftheydaredtokeepherwaiting...

ChapterThree

THECATTHATLOOKEDATAKING

MICHAELHADTOOTHACHE.HelayinbedgroaningandlookingatMaryPoppinsoutofthecornerofhiseyetoseeifshewasnoticing.

There she sat, in the old armchair, busilywindingwool. Jane knelt beforeher,holdingtheskein.UpfromthegardencamethecriesoftheTwinsastheyplayed on the lawnwith Ellen andAnnabel. It was quiet and peaceful in theNursery.MaryPoppins’ballgrewlargerandlarger.Theclockmadeaclucking,satisfiedsoundlikeahenthathaslaidanegg.

“Why should I have toothache and not Jane?” complained Michael. HepulledthescarfMaryPoppinshadlenthimmoretightlyroundhischeek.

“Becauseyouatetoomanysweetsyesterday,”MaryPoppinsrepliedtartly.“ButitwasmyBirthday!”heprotested.“ABirthday’s no reason for turning yourself into aDustbin! I don’t have

toothacheaftermine.”Michaelglaredather.SometimeshewishedMaryPoppinswasnotquiteso

PerfectlyPerfect.Butheneverdaredsayso.“If I die,” he warned her, “you’ll be sorry. You’ll wish you’d been a bit

nicer!”Shesniffedcontemptuouslyandwentonwinding.HoldinghischeekinhistwohandshegazedroundtheNursery,lookingfor

comfort.Everythingtherehadthefamiliarlookofanoldfriend.Thewallpaper,therocking-horse,thewornredcarpet.Hiseyeswanderedtothemantelpiece.

There lay the Compass and the Royal Doulton Bowl, the jam-jar full ofdaisies,thestickofhisoldKiteandMaryPoppins’TapeMeasure.Andtheretoowas thepresentAuntFlossiehadgivenhimyesterday– the littleCatofwhitechinapatternedwithblue-and-greenflowers.Itsat therewith itspawstogetherand its tailneatlycurledabout them.The sunlight shoneon its chinaback; itsgreeneyesgazedgravelyacrosstheroom.Michaelgaveitafriendlysmile.HewasfondofAuntFlossieandhelikedthepresentshehadbroughthim.

Thenhistoothgaveanotherdreadfulstab.

“Ow!” he shrieked. “It’s digging a hole right into my gum!” He glancedpatheticallyatMaryPoppins.“Andnobodycares!”headdedbitterly.

MaryPoppinstossedhimamockingsmile.“Don’tlookatmelikethat!”hecomplained,claspinghisachingcheekmore

tightly.“Whynot?ACatcanlookataKing,Isuppose!”“But I’m not a king—” he grumbled crossly, “and you’re not a cat,Mary

Poppins!”Hehopedshewouldarguewithhimaboutitandtakehismindoffhistooth.

“DoyoumeananycatcanlookataKing?CouldMichael’scat?”demandedJane.

MaryPoppinsglancedup.Herblueeyesgazedat theCat’sgreeneyesandtheCatreturnedherlook.

Therewasapause.“Anycat,”saidMaryPoppinsatlast.“Butthatcatmorethanmost.”Smilingtoherself,shetookuptheballofwoolagainandsomethingstirred

onthemantelpiece.ThechinaCattwitcheditschinawhiskerandlifteditsheadand yawned. The children could see its glistening teeth and a long pink cat’stongue. The Cat then arched its flowery back and stretched itself lazily. Andafterthat,withawaveofitstail,itleaptfromthemantelpiece.

Plop!went thefourpawsonthecarpet.Purr!said theCatas itcrossedthehearthrug. It paused for amomentbyMaryPoppinsandgaveher a littlenod.Then it sprang upon the window-sill, dived out into the shining sunlight anddisappeared.

Michaelforgothistoothacheandgaped.Janedroppedherskeinandstared.“But—”theybothstammered.“How?Why?Where?”“ToseetheQueen,”MaryPoppinsanswered.“She’sAtHomeeverySecond

Friday.Don’tstarelikethat,Jane–thewindmightchange!Closeyourmouth,Michael!Yourtoothwillgetcold.”

Michaelshuthismouthquickly.Thenheopeneditagain.“But Iwant to knowwhat happened!” he cried. “He’smade of china.He

isn’treal.Andyet–hejumped!Isawhim.”“WhydidhewanttoseetheQueen?”askedJane.“Mice,”repliedMaryPoppinscalmly.“AndpartlyforOldTime’sSake.”Afar-away lookcame intohereyesand thehandson theballofwool fell

idle.JaneflungawarningglanceatMichael.Hewriggledcuriouslyoutofbed

andcreptacrosstheroom.ThearmchaircreakedasheleantagainstitbutMaryPoppins took no notice. Shewas gazing thoughtfully out of thewindowwithdistantdreamyeyes.

“Onceuponatime,”shebeganslowly,asthoughshewerereadingfromthesheetofsunlight.

Once upon a time, there lived a King who thought he knew practicallyeverything.Icouldn’tevenbegintotellyouthethingshethoughtheknew.Hisheadwasasfulloffactsandfiguresasapomegranateofpips.AndthishadtheeffectofmakingtheKingextremelyabsent-minded.Thethingsthatclevermanforgotweremorethanthefishinthesea.YouwillhardlybelievemewhenIsaythat he even forgot his own name, which was Cole. The Prime Minister,however,hadanexcellentmemory,andremindedhimofitfromtimetotime.

Now,thisKing’sfavouritepursuitwasthinking.Hethoughtallnightandhethought in the morning. He thought at mealtimes, he thought in his bath. Henevernoticedwhatwashappeninginfrontofhisnosebecause,ofcourse,hewasalwaysthinkingaboutsomethingelse.

Andthethingshethoughtaboutwerenot,asyoumightimagine,thewelfareofhispeopleandhowtomakethemhappy.Notatall.Hismindwasbusywithotherquestions.ThenumberofbaboonsinIndia,forinstance;andwhethertheNorthPolewasaslongastheSouth;andifpigscouldbetaughttosing.

Henotonlyworriedaboutthesethingshimself.Heforcedeverybodyelsetoworry about them too. All except the Prime Minister who was not at all athinking kind of person but an old man who liked to sit in the sun and doabsolutelynothing.ButhewascarefulnottoletthisbeknownforfeartheKingwouldcutoffhishead.

TheKinglivedinapalacemadeentirelyofcrystal.Intheearlydaysofhisreignithadshonesobrightlythatpassers-bywouldhidetheireyes,forfearofbeingdazzled.Butgraduallythecrystalgrewdullerandthedustoftheseasonscovereditsbrightness.Nobodycouldbesparedtopolishit,foreveryonewasfartoobusyhelpingtheKingthinkhisthoughts–eventhecooksandthemaidsandthe scullions. At any moment they might be ordered to leave their work andhurryawayontheKing’sbusiness.ToChina,perhaps,tocountthesilkworms.OrtofindoutiftheSolomanIslandswereruledbytheQueenofSheba.Whentheycamebackwiththeirlistsoffacts,theKingandthecourtierswouldwritethemdowninlargebooksboundinleather.Andifanyonereturnedwithoutananswer,hisheadwasatoncecutoff.

TheonlypersoninthepalacewhohadnothingtodowastheQueen.Allday

long she sat on her golden throne, twisting the necklace of blue-and-greenflowersthatwasclaspedaboutherthroat.Sometimesshewouldstartupwithacry and pull her ermine robes about her. For the palace, as it grewmore andmoredirty,became infestedwithmice.Andmice,asanyonewill tellyou,arethethingsnoQueencanstand.

“O-o-o-h!”shewouldsay,withalittlegasp,assheleaptontheseatof thethrone.

AndeachtimeshecriedouttheKingwouldfrown.“Silence,please!”hewouldsay,inafractiousvoice,fortheleastlittlenoise

disturbed his thinking. Then themicewould scatter for awhile and no soundwouldbeheardintheroom.Exceptforthescratchingofgoose-quillpensastheKingandthecourtiersaddednewfactstotheoneintheleatherbooks.

The Queen never gave orders, not even to her Ladies-of-the-Bedchamber.ForaslikelyasnottheKingwouldcountermandthem.

“MendtheQueen’spetticoat?”hewouldsaycrossly.“Whatpetticoat?Whywastetimetalkingaboutpetticoats?TakeapenandwriteoutthesefactsaboutthePhoenix!”

And the Lady-in-Waiting would have to obey, while the Queen eithermendedherownpetticoatorworeitwithatearinit.

What a dreadful state of affairs, you will say! And, indeed, I would notblameyou.Butyoumustnot think itwasalways like that.TheQueen, sittinglonelyuponher throne,wouldoften remindherself of thedayswhen she firsthadmarriedtheKing.Howtallandhandsomehehadbeen,withhisstrongwhiteneckandruddycheeks,andlocksofhairfoldedroundhisheadliketheleavesofcamelliaflowers.

“Ah!”shewouldsigh,rememberingback.Howhehadfedherwithhoney-cakesandfingersofbutteredbreadfromhisplate.Howhisfacehadbeensofulloflovethatherheartwouldturnoverinherbreastandforcehertolookaway,forsheerjoy.

Butatlasttherecameafatefulevening.“Youreyesarebrighter thanstars,”hesaid,asheglancedfromherfaceto

theshiningsky.Butinsteadofturningtoheragainasusual,hecontinuedtogazeupwards.

“Iwonder,”hesaiddreamily,“justhowmanystarsthereare!IthinkIshallcountthem.One,two,three,four,five,six,seven—”AndhewentoncountingtilltheQueenfellasleepbesidehim.

“Onethousand,twohundredandforty-nine...”hewassayingasshewoke

up.Sosheknewhewasstillcounting.Afterthathewouldnotbesatisfiedtillhegotthecourtiersoutoftheirbeds

andsetthemtocountingstars.AndasnotwoanswerscameoutaliketheKingwasveryangry.

Thatwashowitallbegan.Thenextday, theKingexclaimed,“Yourcheeks,myDarling,are like two

roses!”And the Queen was very happy till he added, “But why roses?Why not

cabbages?Whyarecheekspinkandcabbagesgreen?Andviceversa?Thisisaveryseriousquestion.Imustthinkaboutit.”

Thethirddayhetoldherthatherteethwerelikepearls.Butbeforesheevenhadtimetosmile,hewenton–

“Andwhat if theyare?Everybodyhas,afterall,acertainnumberof teeth,andmost of them are pearly. Pearls themselves, however, are very rare. It ismoreimportanttothinkaboutthem.”

Sohesummonedthebestdiversinthekingdomandsentthemdownunderthesea.

Andfromthatdayonwardshewasalwaysthinking.Hewasonlyconcernedwithgainingknowledgeandhenever even lookedat theQueen. Indeed, if hehadglancedinherdirection,hewouldprobablynothaveseenher,forheworkedso hard at his books and papers that he soon became very short-sighted. Hisround,redfacegrewthinandwrinkled,andhishairturnedgreyatanearlyage.Heatepracticallynothing–exceptforacheese-and-onionsandwichwhenevertheoldPrimeMinistertoldhimthatdinnerwasonthetable.

Well! You can imagine how lonely theQueenwas. Sometimes the PrimeMinister would shuffle cautiously to the throne and pat her hand kindly.SometimesthelittlepagewhofilledtheinkwellswouldraisehiseyesandsmileatherfrombehindtheKing’sback.ButneithertheoldmannortheboycouldsparemuchtimetoamusetheQueen,forfearoflosingtheirheads.

Youmustnot thinktheKingmeanttobeunkind.Indeed, itseemedtohimthat his subjects were luckier than most, for hadn’t they a King who knewpracticallyeverything?Butwhilehewasbusygatheringknowledgehispeoplegrewpoorerandpoorer.Housesfell intoruinandfieldswentuntilled,becausetheKingneededallthementohelphiminhisthinking.

Asforthewomen,theywereverycross.Itseemedtothemthat theKing’sknowledgewas nothing but Stuff andNonsense. For how could you feed thebabyon factsorpay the rentby thinking?Even theCowherdsand theGoose-

girls were discontented. And when you remember that these are usually thehappiest people in the world – (because they know they are princes andprincessesindisguise)–well,youwillrealisethestateofthekingdom.

AtlasttherecameadaywhentheKingandthecourtierswerebusy,asusual,attheirdesksintheCouncilChamber.TheQueensatlisteningtothescratchingofpensandthesqueakingofmiceinthewainscot.Andpresently,asshesatsostill,aboldmousestreakedacrossthefloorandbegantowashitswhiskersrightunder the throne. The Queen gave a little frightened gasp. But she quicklyclappedherhandtohermouthforfearofdisturbingtheKing.Thenshepulledhererminetrainaboutherandsattremblingwithinit.Andatthatmoment,overtheedgeofherhand,herstartledeyesglancedacrosstheroomandsawonthethreshold–acat.

Asmallcatitwas,asfluffyasadandelion,andwhiteassugarfromtail towhisker.ItwalkedwithalazyswingingstepasthoughithadnothingatalltodoandallTimetodoitin.Apairofgreeneyesglowedinitsheadasitsaunteredthroughthedoor.

Foramomentitpausedatthecarpet’sedge,glancingcuriouslyattheKingand the courtiers as they bent above their books. Then the green eyes turnedtowardstheQueen.TheCatgaveastartanditsbodystiffened.Upwentitsbacklike the hump of a camel. Itswhiskers stretched into threads of steel. Then itleapt across the Council Chamber and dived beneath the throne. Therewas ahoarsecat-cry.Andasmotheredsqueak.Andthemousewastherenolonger.

“Silence, please! Don’t make such extraordinary noises, my dear! Theyinterruptmythoughts!”saidtheKingfractiously.

“Itwasn’tme,”saidtheQueentimidly.“ItwasaCat.”“Cats?”saidtheKingabsent-mindedly,withoutevenliftinghishead.“Cats

are four-footed creatures covered with fur. They are found, either wild ordomesticated,inallquartersoftheglobe,withthesingleexceptionofthePolarcircles.Theyeatmice,fish,liverandbirds,andcommunicateeitherinapurroracaterwaul,accordingto theirmood.Theykeepthemselves to themselvesandare popularly supposed to possess nine lives. For further information onCats,seePageTwo,VolumeSeven,ShelfDinLibraryNumberFivetotheleftasyougointhedoor.Here!Hi!What’sallthis?”

WithastarttheKinglookedupfromhispage.FortheCatwassittingonthedeskbeforehim.

“Kindlybecareful!”theKingsaidcrossly.“You’rerightonmylatestfacts.Theydealwithaveryimportantquestion.DoturkeysreallycomefromTurkey

andifnot,why?Well,whatdoyouwant?Speakup!Don’tmumble!I’mratherdeaf!”

“Iwant to have a look at you,” theCat said calmly, as itwhisked its tailroundtheinkwell.

“Oho!Youdo,doyou?Well,aCatmaylookataKing,theysay!AndI’venoobjection.Goahead!”

TheKingleantbackwardsinhischairandturnedhisfacefromlefttorightsotheCatcouldseebothsides.

TheCatgazedthoughtfullyattheKingandthecourtiersputdowntheirpensandstared.

Therewasalongpause.“Well?”saidtheKing,withatolerantsmile.“Andwhatdoyouthinkofme,

mayIask?”“Notmuch,”saidtheCatcasually,lickingitsrightfrontpaw.Thecourtiersshudderedandgrabbedtheirpens.“What?”criedtheKing.“Notmuch,indeed!Mypoorignorantanimal,you

areevidentlynotawarewhichKingyouarelookingat!”“Allkingsareprettymuchalike,”saidtheCat.“Nothingof thekind,” theKingsaidangrily.“Idefyyou tonamea single

kingwhoknowsasmuchas Ido.Why,professorscome from theendsof theearthtoconsultwithmeforhalfanhour.Mycollectionoffactsisunsurpassed.Mycourt is composedof theVeryBestPeople. Jack-the-Giant-Killerdigsmygarden.MyflocksaretendedbynolessapersonthanBo-Peep.AndallmypiescontainFour-and-TwentyBlackbirds.Notmuch to lookat, forsooth!Andwhoareyou,I’dliketoknow,tospeaktoaKinglikethat!”

“Oh, just a cat,” the Cat replied. “Four legs and a tail and a couple ofwhiskers.”

“Icanseethatformyself!”snappedtheKing.“Itdoesn’tmattertomewhatyoulooklike.WhatIcareaboutis,howmuchdoyouknow?”

“Oh,everything,”theCatsaidcalmly,asitlickedthetipofitstail.“What!”TheKingburst outwith an angry splutter. “Well, of all the vain,

conceitedcreatures!I’veajollygoodmindtochopoffyourhead.”“Soyoushall,”saidtheCat.“Butallingoodtime.”“Knoweverything!Why,youpreposterous animal!There’snoone alive–

notevenmyself–whocouldbeaswiseasthat!”“With the single exception of cats,” said the Cat. “All cats, I assure you,

knoweverything!”

“Very well,” growled the King. “But you’ve got to prove it. If you’re socleverIshallaskyouthreequestions.Andthenweshallseewhatwe’llsee.”

Hesmileda supercilioussmile. If thewretchedCat insistedonboasting, itwouldhavetotaketheconsequences!

“Now,” he said, leaning back in his chair and putting his fingers together.“Myfirstquestionis—”

“Onemoment,please!” theCat saidcalmly.“Icannotundertake toansweryour questions until we have settled the terms. No cat would do anything sofoolish.Iampreparedtomakeabargainwithyou.Andthesearemyconditions.Itisagreedbetweenusthatyoushallaskmethreequestions.Afterthat,itisonlyfairthatIshouldquestionyou.Andwhicheveroneofuswinsthecontestshallhavecommandofyourkingdom.”

Thecourtiersdroppedtheirpensinsurprise.TheKing’seyesgoggledwithastonishment.

Butheswallowedthewordsthatsprangtohismouthandgaveadisdainfullaugh.

“Verywell,”hesaidhaughtily.“It’sagreatwasteoftimeandyou,notI,willbetheonetoregretit.ButIacceptyourbargain.”

“Then take off your crown,” commanded theCat, “and lay it on the tablebetweenus.”

TheKingtorethecrownfromhistatteredheadandthejewelsflashedinthesunlight.

“Let’sgetthisnonsenseoveranddonewith!Ihavetogoonwithmywork,”hesaidcrossly.“Areyouready?Well,hereismyfirstquestion.Ifyoulaidthemcarefully,endtoend,howmanysix-footmenwouldittaketogorightroundtheEquator?”

“That’seasy,” theCatreplied,withasmile.“Yousimplydivide the lengthbysix.”

“Aha!”criedtheKingwithacraftylook.“That’sallverywell–butwhatisthelength?”

“Anylengthyoulike,”theCatsaidairily.“Itdoesn’treallyexist,youknow.TheEquatorispurelyanimaginaryline.”

Thecourtiers lookedateachother inhorror.Theyhadneverheardanyonetalklikethis.

TheKing’sfacedarkenedwithdisapproval.“Well,” he said sulkily, “tell me this. What is the difference between an

ElephantandaRailwayPorter?”

“Nodifferenceatall,”saidtheCatatonce.“Becausetheybothcarrytrunks.”“But – but – but – but. . .” the King protested hotly. “These are not the

answersIexpected.Youreallymusttrytobemoreserious.”“Ican’thelpwhatyouexpected,”saidtheCat.“Thesearetheproperreplies

toyourquestions,asanycatwilltellyou.”TheKingmadeanangryclickwithhistongue.“This nonsense is getting beyond a joke! It’s a farce! It’s nothing but

twiddle-twaddle.Well,hereismythirdquestion–ifyoucananswerit.”YoucouldseebythesmileontheKing’sfacethat this timehethoughthe

hadtheCatexactlywherehewantedit.Heheldupapompoushandandbegan.“Ifadozenmen,workingeighthoursaday,hadtodigaholeten-and-a-half

miles deep – how longwould it be, includingSundays, before they put downtheirspades?”

TheKing’seyesshonewithacunningtriumph.Hegazedat theCatwithalookoftriumph.ButtheCathaditsanswerready.

“Twoseconds,”itsaidquickly,withalittleflickofitstail.“Twoseconds!Areyoumad?Theanswer’sinyears!”TheKingrubbedhis

handstogetherwithgleeatthethoughtoftheCat’smistake.“Irepeat,”saidtheCat.“Itwouldtakethemtwoseconds.Todigsuchahole

wouldbeutterlyfoolish.‘Tenmilesdeep?’theywouldsay.‘Why,whatonearthfor?’”

“Thatisn’tthepoint,”theKingsaidangrily.“Buteveryquestionmusthaveapoint.Apointisexactlywhatquestionsare

for.Andnow,”saidtheCat,“it’smyturn,Ibelieve!”The King gave an angry shrug of his shoulders. Who was this perfectly

ordinarycat,tositonhisdeskandaskhimquestions!“Well,bequick.You’vewastedenoughofmytime!”“Myquestionsareshortandverysimple,”theCatassuredhim.“Acatcould

solve them in a flick of thewhisker. Let us hope that aKingwill be equallyclever.Now,hereismyfirst.Howhighisthesky?”

TheKinggaveagruntofsatisfaction.Thiswasexactlythekindofquestionheliked,andhesmiledaknowingsmile.

“Well,ofcourse,”hebegan,“italldepends.Ifyoumeasureditfromalevelplain it would be one height. From the top of a mountain another. And aftertakingthisintoaccount,weshouldhavetodeterminethelatitudeandlongitude,the amplitude, magnitude and multitude, not forgetting the atmospherics,

mathematics,acrobaticsandhysterics;andthegeneraldepressions,expressions,impressionsandconfessions,togetherwith—”

“Excuseme,” interrupted the Cat. “But that is not the answer. Try again,please.Howhighisthesky?”

TheKing’seyespoppedwithangryastonishment.Nobodyhadeverdaredtointerrupthimbefore.

“Thesky,”hebellowed,“is–er–it’s...Well,ofcourseIcan’ttellyouinsomanyyards.Neithercouldanyoneelse,Iassureyou.Itisprobably—”

“Iwantanexactreply,”saidtheCat.HeglancedfromtheKingtothegapingcourtiers.“Hasanyonehere,inthishalloflearning,theanswertomyquestion?”

NervouslyglancingattheKing,thePrimeMinisterraisedatremblinghand.“Ihavealwayssupposed,”hemurmuredshyly,“thattheskywasjustalittle

higherthantheEagleflies.I’manoldman,ofcourse,andI’mprobablywrong—”

TheCatclappeditssugar-whitepawstogether.“No!No!Youareright,”itprotestedgently.Andthegreeneyelingeredfora

momentonthefrightenedeyesoftheoldPrimeMinister.TheKinggaveasullensnortofrage.“Tomfoolery!Nonsensicalbosh!”TheCatheldupitspawsforsilence.“Willyouanswermysecondquestion,

please!Whereisthesweetestmilktobefound?”ImmediatelytheKing’sfacecleared,andtookonaconfidentsmirk.“AssimpleasABC,”hesaidloftily.“Theanswer,ofcourse,isSardinia.For

there the cows live on honey and roses and theirmilk is as sweet as GoldenSyrup. Or perhaps I should say the Elegant Islands, where they feed uponnothingbut sugarcane.OrGreece,where theybrowse in theCandytuft.Now,takingintoconsideration—”

“I can take nothing into consideration,” said theCat, “except the fact thatyouhavenotansweredmyquestion.Whereisthesweetestmilk,OKing?”

“I know!” cried the little Page, pausing for a moment above a half-filledinkwell.“Inasaucerbythefire.”

TheCatgavethechildanapprovingnodandyawnedinthefaceoftheKing.“Ithoughtyouweresoclever!”itsaidslyly.“Youmayindeedbethewisest

of Kings – but somebody else has answered my question. Do not frown,however–”fortheKingwasgloweringatthePage–“youstillhaveonemorechance to win. Here is my third question.What is the strongest thing in theworld?”

TheKing’seyesglittered.Hetookhisbeardinhisskinnyfingersandstrokeditcomplacently.Thistimehewascertainhehadtherightanswer.

“The Tiger,” he said thoughtfully, “is a very strong thing. So also are theHorse and the Lion. Then, of course, there are the tides of the sea. And thegranite veins of themountains.Volcanoes too have amighty strength and thesnowycapsoficeatthePoles.Or,again,itmightbetheWallofChina—”

“Oragainitmightnot!”theCatbrokein.“Cananyonetellmethestrongestthing?”

ItglancedoncemoreroundtheCouncilChamber.Andthis timeitwastheQueenwhospoke.

“I think,” she said gently, “itmust be Patience. For, in the long run, it isPatiencethatovercomesallthings.”

Thegreeneyesdweltgravelyuponherforamoment.“It is indeed,” the Cat agreed quickly. And turning, it laid a paw on the

crown.“O,wisestofmonarchs!”cried theCat.“Youare,withoutdoubt,amighty

scholarandIamacommon-or-gardencat.ButIhaveansweredallthreeofyourquestionsandyouhavenotansweredoneofmine.The resultof thecontest isclear,Ithink.Thecrownbelongstome.”

TheKinggaveashortcontemptuouslaugh.“Don’t be so silly!Whatwouldyoudowith it?You can’tmake laws and

rule the people. You don’t even know how to read or write. Turn over mykingdomtoaCat?I’mhangedifIwill!”

TheCatsmiledbroadly.“Iseethatyourwisdomdoesnotincludeaknowledgeoffairy-tales.Ifitdid,

youwouldknow that it is onlynecessary to cutoff a cat’shead todiscover aPrinceindisguise.”

“Fairy-tales? Pooh! They’re nothing to me. I’m thinking about mykingdom.”

“Your kingdom,” said the Cat, “if you’ll forgive me mentioning it, is nolongeryouraffair.Allthatneedconcernyounowisquicklytocutoffmyhead.Therestyoumayleavetome.Furthermore,sinceyouapparentlyhavenouseforthem, I shall take into my service this wise man, your Prime Minister, thisunderstandingwoman,yourwife, and this sensible child, yourPage.Let themgettheirhatsandcomewithmeandtogetherwefourshallrulethekingdom.”

“But what’s going to happen tome?” cried the King. “Where shall I go?HowshallIlive?”

TheCat’seyesnarrowedsternly.“You should have thought of that before.Most people think twice before

makingabargainwithacat.Well,outwithyourswordnow,learntman!AndItrustthebladeissharp.”

“Stop!”criedthePrimeMinister,ashelaidhishandonthehiltoftheKing’ssword.ThenheturnedtotheCatandbowedrespectfully.

“Sir,”hesaidquietly,“listentome!Itistruethatyouhavewonthecrown,in fair and equal contest.And itmay be you are indeed a Prince. But Imustdeclineyouroffer.IhaveservedtheKingfaithfullysincethedayswhenIwasapageinhisfather’scourt.Andwhetherhebecrownedoruncrowned,headofakingdomoratramponthelonelyroads,Ilovehimandheneedsme.Iwillnotgowithyou.”

“NorI,”saidtheQueen,assherosefromhergoldenthrone.“IhavestoodattheKing’ssidesincehewasyoungandcomely.Ihavewaitedforhiminsilencethroughlong,lonelyyears.Whetherhebewiseorfoolish,richorwithoutbread,IlovehimandIneedhim.Iwillnotgowithyou.”

“Nor I,” said the littlePage,ashecorkeduphisbottleof ink.“This is theonlyhomeIhaveeverknown.AndtheKingismykingandIamsorryforhim.Besides,Ilikefillinguptheinkwells.Iwillnotgowithyou.”

AtthattheCatsmiledacurioussmileanditsgreeneyesshoneonthethreewhohadrefusedhim.

“Whathaveyoutosaytothis,OKing?”saidtheCatasitturnedtothedesk.Butnowordscametoanswerthequestion.FortheKingwasweeping.Hurriedly the Prime Minister tucked his own handkerchief between the

King’s fingers. And the Queen came and stood beside him with her handsclaspedoverherheart.

“Owiseman,whydoyouweep?”askedtheCat.“Because I am ashamed,” sobbed theKing. “I boasted about how clever I

was.IthoughtIkneweverything–prettynearly.AndnowIfindthatanoldmanandawomananda little ladareall farwiser thanIam.Donot try tocomfortme!”hewept,astheQueenandthePrimeMinistertouchedhishands.“Iamnotworthit.Iknownothingatall.NotevenwhoIam.”

Hehidhis face in thecrookofhisarm.“Oh, Iknow that I’maKing!”hecried. “I knowmy name and address, of course! But I do not know, after alltheseyears,whoIreally,trulyam!”

“Lookatmeandyouwillfindout,”saidtheCatquietly.“ButIh-h-havelookedatyou!”sobbedtheKingintohishandkerchief.

“Notreally,”theCatinsistedgently.“Youhaveonlyglancedatme,nowandagain.ACatmaylookataKing,yousay.ButaKingmayalsolookataCat.Ifyoudidthat,youwouldknowwhoyouare.Lookinmyeyes–andsee!”

TheKingtookhisfaceoutofthehandkerchiefandpeeredattheCatthroughhis tears.His eyeswanderedover the calmwhite face and came at last to theCat’sgreeneyes.Withinthatshining,piercinggazehesawhisownreflection.

“Closer.Closer,”theCatcommanded.ObedientlytheKingbentnearer.And as he gazed at those fathomless eyes, a change came over the man

withinthem.Slowly,histhin,pinchedfacegrewfatter.Thepalecheeksplumpedintoroundredpouchesandthewrinklessmoothedthemselvesoutofhisbrow.Bright locks of brown curled upon his head; a brown beard sprang from hisgreyingchin.Hiseyesbegan toshineandglowand their lightspreadoverhischangingface.TheKinggaveastartofsurpriseandsmiled.Andabig,broad,rosymansmiledbackfromthemirroringeyesoftheCat.

“MyGloriousGhosts!That’sme!”hecried.“IknowwhoIreallyamatlast!Why,I’mnotthecleverestmanintheworld!”Heflunguphisheadwithagustylaugh. “Ho-ho! Ha-ha! I see it all now! I’m not a thinking person at all. I’mnothingbutaMerryOldSoul!”

He waved his arms at the gaping courtiers. “Here, you! Take away thosepens and papers. Tear up the notebooks! Bury the desks! And if anyonementionsafacttomeIshallcutoffhisheadmyself!”

TheKinggaveanotheruproariouslaughandembracedthePrimeMinistersotightlythathenearlykilledtheoldman.

“Forgiveme,my faithful friend!” he cried. “AndbringmemyPipe and aBowlofPunchandcallinmyFiddlersThree!”

“Andyou,myJoy,myTreasure,myDove...”heturnedtotheQueenwithoutstretchedarms.“Oh,givemeyourhandagain,dearheart,andI’llneverletitgo!”

HappytearscreptdownthecheeksoftheQueen,andtheKingtouchedthemgentlyaway.“Idon’tneedstarsinthesky,”hewhispered,“Ihavethemhere,inyoureyes.”

“ForgivemeifIinterrupt.Butwhataboutme?”exclaimedtheCat.“Well,you’vegot thekingdom.You’vegot thecrown!Whatmoredoyou

want?”theKingdemanded.“Pooh!” said the Cat. “They’re no use to me! Accept them, I pray, as a

friendlygift.Butasnocatevergivessomethingfornothing,Idemandinreturn

twosmallrequests—”“Oh,anything.Anythingatall,”saidtheKingwithalordlygesture.“Ishouldlike,everynowandthen,”saidtheCat,“tocometothePalaceand

see—”“Me?Why,ofcourse!You’realwayswelcome!”TheKingbrokeinwitha

satisfiedsmile.“ToseetheQueen,”theCatcontinued,ignoringtheKing’sremark.“Oh – theQueen!All right.Whenever you like.You can help us to keep

downthemice.”“Mysecondrequest,”theCatwenton,“isthelittlechainofblue-and-green

flowersthattheQueenwearsroundherneck.”“Take it – andwelcome,” theKing said airily. “It was only a cheap one,

anyway.”Slowly theQueenputupherhands andunfastened the clasp at her throat.

ShetwinedthenecklaceabouttheCat,loopingitroundthefurrybodyandoverandunderthetail.ThenforalongmomentshelookeddeepintotheCat’sgreeneyesandtheCatlookedintohers.AndinthatlooklayallthesecretsthatQueensandcatscarryintheirheartsandnevertelltoanyone.

“MyAtHomedaysareeverySecondFriday,”saidtheQueen,asshesmiledattheCat.

“Ishallcome,”theCatsaid,nodding.Andhaving said that, it turnedawayand,without aglanceat anyoneelse,

sailedoutoftheCouncilChamber.Theblue-and-greennecklaceshoneinitsfuranditstailwavedtoandfrolikeabanner.

“By theway!” called theKing, as theCat departed. “Are you sure you’rereallyaprinceindisguise?CouldIhavesafelycutoffyourhead?”

TheCatturnedaboutandregardedhimgravely.Thenitsmileditsmockingsmile.

“Nothingiscertaininthisworld.Goodbye!”saidthegreen-eyedCat.ItsprangacrossthesunnythresholdanddowntheCastlesteps.OnthePalacelawnaredcowwasadmiringherreflectioninanornamental

pond.“Whoareyou?”sheenquired,astheCatpassedby.“I’mtheCatthatLookedataKing,”hereplied.“And I,” she remarkedwith a toss of her head, “am theCow that Jumped

OvertheMoon.”“Isthatso?”saidtheCat.“Whateverfor?”

The Cow stared. She had never before been asked that question. Andsuddenly it occurred to her that there might be something else to do thanjumpingovermoons.Forthefirst time,thewholethingappearedasapieceoffoolishness.

“Nowthatyoumentionit,”shesaidshyly,“Idon’tthinkIreallyknow.”Andshetrottedawayacrossthelawntothinkthematterover.

Onthegardenpathalarge,greybirdwasnoisilyflappingitswings.“I’mtheGoosethatLaystheGoldenEggs!”itquackedhaughtily.“Indeed?”saidtheCat,“andwhereareyourgoslings?”“Goslings?”TheGooseturnedatriflepale.“Well,nowthatyoumentionit,I

havenone. Ialways felt therewassomethingmissing.”Andshehurriedoff tomakeanestandlayacommonegg.

Plop!AgreenshapedroppedinfrontoftheCat.“I’mtheFrogthatWoulda-WooingGo,”itsaidproudly.“Do you tell me that, now?” the Cat said gravely. “Well, I trust you are

happilymarried.”“Er–nowthatyoumentionit–notexactly.Infact,–er–no!”confessedthe

Frog.“Ah,”saidtheCat,withashakeofhishead.“Youshouldhaveobeyedyour

Mother!”AndbeforetheFrogcoulddomorethanblink,theCathadpassedon.Away

itwentdownthegardenpath,itswhiskerstwitchinginthemorningair,itsblue-and-green necklace shining in the sun and itswhite tailwaving like a bannerbehindit.

AndasitdisappearedthroughthePalacegates,allthosewhohadseenitfeltrichandhappy.Ithadlookedatthemwithitsbrightgreeneyesandtheir liveshadtakenanewdirection.

TheCowandtheGooseandtheFrogwerehappy,fornowtheycouldstopdoingfoolishthingsthathadnorhymeorreason.Thecourtiersallwerehappymen, dancing by day to the Fiddlers’ tunes and drinking at night from theflowing bowl. The King himself was extremely happy because he no longerthought about anything. And the Queen was happy for a very good reason –becausetheKingwashappy.ThelittlePagewashappytoo.Fornowhecouldfilltheinkwellswithink,andemptythembackinthebottleagainwithnoonetosayhimnay.ButthehappiestpersoninalltheworldwastheoldPrimeMinister.

Doyouknowwhathedid?Heissuedaproclamation.

TheKing commandedhis subjects (it said) to put upMaypoles and dancearoundthem;togetoutMerry-go-roundsandridethem;todanceandfeastandsingandgrowfatandloveoneanotherdearly.And,furthermore(itwasclearlyprinted),ifanyonedisobeyedtheselaws,theKingwouldimmediatelycutoffhishead.

And,havingdonethat,thePrimeMinisterfelthehaddoneenough.Hespentthe rest of his days doing nothing – just sitting in the sun in a rocking-chair,makinghimselfagentlebreezewithafanofcoconutpalm.

AsfortheCat,itwentitswaythroughthewaysoftheworld,deckedintheQueen’s bright necklace; and gazing at everything it saw with its green andpiercingeyes.

It is stillwandering, some folks say, forNear andFar are alike to it.Andalwaysasitgoes,itwatchesoutforoneoranotherwhowillreturnitsgaze.Aking, it may be, or perhaps a shepherd, or a man going by through the citystreets.Ifitcomesuponanyonelikethat,itwillstaywiththemforalittlewhile.Notvery long, but long enough. It takesnomore than the tickof a second tolookdowndeepinitsdeepgreeneyesanddiscoverwhotheyare...

The dreamy voice was hushed and silent. The sunlight crept away from thewindowandduskcameslowlyin.NotasoundcouldbeheardintheNurserybutthetickingoftheclock.

Then,with a start, as though shewere comingback fromagreat distance,MaryPoppinsturnedtothechildren.Hereyessnappedangrily.

“May I ask what you’re doing out of bed? I thought you were dying oftoothache,Michael!Whatareyougapingatmefor,Jane?IamnotaPerformingBear!”

And,snatchingupherwool,shebecameherusualwhirlwindself.Withasqueak,Michaelranacrosstheroomandhurledhimselfintobed.But

Janedidnotmove.“IwonderwhoIam!”shesaidsoftly,halftoherselfandhalftoMichael.“Iknowwho I am,” saidMichael stoutly. “I’mMichaelGeorgeBanks, of

CherryTreeLane.AndIdon’tneedaCattotellme.”“He doesn’t need anyone to tell him anything. CleverMr Smarty!”Mary

Poppinstossedhimascornfulsmile.“When it comes back,” Janemurmured slowly, “I shall look right into its

deepgreeneyes!”“Youandyourdeepgreeneyes,indeed!Betterlookintoyourownblackface

andseethatit’scleanforSupper!”MaryPoppinssniffedherusualsniff.“Perhapsitwon’tcomeback!”saidMichael.ACatthatcouldlookataKing,

hethought,wouldhardlywanttospenditsdaysonthetopofamantelpiece.“Oh,yes,itwill–won’tit,MaryPoppins?”Jane’svoicewasfullofanxiety.“HowshouldIknow?”snappedMaryPoppins.“I’mnotaPublicLibrary!”“But it’s Michael’s cat—” Jane began to argue, when Mrs Banks’ voice

interruptedher.“MaryPoppins!” it called from the foot of the stairs. “Could youpossibly

sparemeamoment?”Thechildren lookedateachotherquestioningly.TheirMother’svoicewas

shrill with alarm.Mary Poppins hurried out of the room.Michael pushed theblanketsawayoncemoreandcreptwithJanetothetopofthestairs.

DowninthefronthallMrBankssathuddleduponachair.MrsBankswasanxiouslystrokinghisheadandgivinghimsipsofwater.

“Heseemstohavehadsomekindofshock,”sheexplainedtoMaryPoppins.“Can’t you tell us, George, exactly what happened? Whatever can be thematter?”

MrBanksraisedaghostlyface.“ANervousBreakdown–that’swhat’sthematter.I’mover-working.I’mseeingthings.”

“Whatthings?”demandedMrsBanks.MrBankstookasipofwater.“Iwas turning in at the endof theLanewhen. . .” hegave a shudder and

closedhiseyes.“Isawitstandingrightbyourgate.”“Yousawwhatstanding?”criedMrsBanksfrantically.“Awhitething.Sortofleoparditwas.Andforget-me-notsgrowingallover

itsfur.WhenIgottothegateit–lookedatme.Awildgreenlook–rightintomy eyes.Then it nodded and said ‘Good evening,Banks!’ andhurried up thepath.”

“But—”MrsBanksbegantoargue.MrBanksraisedaprotestinghand.“Iknowwhatyou’regoingtosay.Well,don’t.Theleopardsareall locked

up in the Zoo. And they don’t have forget-me-nots on them, anyway. I’mperfectlywellawareofthat.AndIknowthethingwasn’treallythere.ButitjustgoestoshowthatI’mveryill.You’dbettersendforDrSimpson.”

MrsBanksrantothetelephone.Andastifledhiccupcamefromthelanding.“What’sthematterwithyouupthere?”askedMrBanksfaintly.ButJaneandMichaelcouldnotanswer.Theywereovercomebyastormof

giggles.Theywrithedandrolledandrockedonthefloorandgulpedandgurgledwithlaughter.

ForwhileMrBankswasdescribinghisshock,awhiteshapehadappearedattheNurserywindow.Lightlyitleaptfromthesilltotheflooranduptoitsplaceonthemantelpiece.Itsattherenowwithitstailcurledrounditanditswhiskersfolded against its cheeks.Dappledwith small, blue, shining flowers, its greeneyesgazing across the room, silent and still on themantelpiece, satMichael’schinaCat.

“Well, of all the hard-hearted, unfeeling children!”MrBanks stared up atthem,shockedandhurt.

Butthatonlymadethemlaughmoreloudly.Theygiggledandcoughedandchokedandexploded,tillMaryPoppinsbentbackherheadandfixedthemwithoneofherfiercestglares.

Then there was silence. Not even a hiccup. For that look, as Jane andMichaelknew,wasenoughtostopanyonelaughing...

ChapterFour

THEMARBLEBOY

“ANDDON’TFORGETtobuymeaneveningpaper!”saidMrsBanks,asshehandedJanetwopenniesandkissedhergoodbye.

MichaellookedathisMotherreproachfully.“Isthatallyou’regoingtogiveus?”heasked.“What’llhappenifwemeet

theIceCreamMan?”“Well,”saidMrsBanksreluctantly.“Here’sanothersixpence.ButIdothink

youchildrengettoomanytreats.Ididn’thaveIceseverydaywhenIwasalittlegirl.”

Michael lookedathercuriously.Hecouldnotbelieveshehadeverbeenalittlegirl.MrsGeorgeBanks in short skirtsandherhair tiedupwith ribbons?Impossible!

“Isuppose,”hesaidsmugly,“youdidn’tdeservethem!”Andhetuckedthesixpencecarefullyintothepocketofhissailorsuit.“That’sfourpencefortheIceCreams,”saidJane.“Andwe’llbuyaLot-o’-

Funwiththerest.”“Outofmyway,Miss,ifyouplease!”saidahaughtyvoicebehindher.Asneatandtrimasafashion-plate,MaryPoppinscamedownthestepswith

Annabel.Shedumpedherintotheperambulatorandpusheditpastthechildren.“Now,QuickMarchintothePark!”shesnapped.“Andnomeandering!”Down thepath straggled JaneandMichael,with JohnandBarbaraat their

heels.ThesunspreadoverCherryTreeLane likeabrightenormousumbrella.Thrushes andblackbirds sang in the trees.Down at the cornerAdmiralBoomwasbusilymowinghislawn.

Fromthedistancecamesoundsofmartialmusic.TheBandwasplayingattheendof thePark.Along thewalkswent the flowery sunshadesandbeneaththemsaunteredgossipingladies,exchangingthelatestnews.

TheParkKeeper,inhissummersuit–bluewitharedstripeonthesleeve–waskeepinganeyeoneveryoneashetrampedacrossthelawns.

“Observe the Rules! Keep Off the Grass! All Litter to be Placed in the

Baskets!”heshouted.Janegazedatthesunny,dreamyscene.“It’sjustlikeMrTwigley’sbox,”she

saidwithahappysigh.Michaelputhiseartothetrunkofanoak.“IbelieveIcanhearitgrowing!”hecried.“Itmakesasmall,soft,creeping

sound—”“You’llbecreepinginaminute!Rightbackhome,unlessyouhurry!”Mary

Poppinswarnedhim.“NoRubbishAllowedinthePark!”shoutedtheKeeperasshesweptalong

theLimeWalk.“Rubbishyourself!”sheretortedbriskly,withahaughtytossofherhead.He tookoffhishatand fannedhis faceashestaredather retreatingback.

AndyouknewfromthewayMaryPoppinssmiledthatsheknewquitewellhewas staring.Howcouldhehelp it, she thought toherself.Wasn’t shewearinghernewwhite jacket,with thepink collar and thepinkbelt and the fourpinkbuttonsdownthefront?

“Whichwayarewegoingtoday?”askedMichael.“Thatremainstobeseen!”sheansweredhimpriggishly.“Iwasonlyenquiring—”Michaelargued.“Don’t,then!”sheadvised,withawarningsniff.“Sheneverletsmesayanything!”hegrumbledunderhishattoJane.“I’llgo

dumbsomedayandthenshe’llbesorry!”They trudged beside her without a word and the sun shone softly down.

MaryPoppinsthrusttheperambulatorinfrontofherasthoughshewererunninganobstaclerace.

“Thisway,please!”shecommandedpresently,assheswungthepramtotheright.

Andtheyknew,then,wheretheyweregoing.ForthelittlepaththatturnedoutoftheLimeWalkledawaytowardstheLake.

There, beyond the tunnels of shade, lay the shining patch of water. Itsparkledanddancedinitsnetofsunlightandthechildrenfelt theirheartsbeatfasterastheyranthroughtheshadowstowardsit.

“I’ll make a boat, and sail it to Africa!” shouted Michael, forgetting hiscrossness.

“I’llgofishing!”criedJane,asshegallopedpasthim.Laughing and whooping and waving their hats, they came to the shining

water.All round theLake stood the dusty green benches patientlywaiting for

someonetositonthem.Andtheduckswentquackingalongtheedge,greedilylookingforcrustsofbread.

Atthefarendof thewaterstoodthebatteredmarblestatueoftheBoyandtheDolphin.Dazzlingwhiteandbrightitshone,betweentheLakeandthesky.TherewasasmallchipofftheBoy’snoseandalinelikeablackthreadroundhisankle.Oneofthefingersofhislefthandwasbrokenoffatthejoint.Andallhistoeswerecracked.

There he stood, on his high pedestal,with his arm flung lightly round theneckoftheDolphin.Hishead,withitsruffleofmarblecurls,wasbenttowardsthewater.Hegazeddownatitthoughtfullywithwidemarbleeyes.

The name NELEUS was carved in faded gilt letters at the base of thepedestal.

“How bright he is today!” breathed Jane, blinking her eyes at the shiningmarble.

AnditwasatthatmomentthatshesawtheElderlyGentleman.He was sitting at the foot of the statue, reading a book with the aid of a

magnifying glass.His bald headwas sheltered from the sun by a knotted silkhandkerchief,andlyingonthebenchbesidehimwasablacktophat.

Thechildrenstaredatthecuriousfigurewithfascinatedeyes.“That’s Mary Poppins’ favourite seat! She will be cross!” exclaimed

Michael.“Indeed?AndwhenwasIevercross?”hervoiceenquiredbehindhim.Theremarkquiteshockedhim.“Why,you’reoftencross,MaryPoppins!”he

said.“Atleastfiftytimesaday!”“Never!” she said with an angry snap. “I have the patience of a Boa-

constrictor!ImerelySpeakMyMind!”She flounced away and sat down on a bench exactly opposite the statue.

Then she glared across the Lake at the ElderlyGentleman. Itwas a look thatmight have killed anybody else. But the Elderly Gentleman was quiteunaffected.Hewentonporingoverhisbookandtooknonoticeofanyone.MaryPoppins,withan infuriatedsniff, tookhermending-bagfromtheperambulatorandbegantodarnthesocks.

Thechildrenscatteredroundthesparklingwater.“Here’s my boat!” shriekedMichael, snatching a piece of coloured paper

fromalitterbasket.“I’m fishing,” said Jane, as she layonher stomachand stretchedherhand

over the water. She imagined a fishing-rod in her fingers and a line running

down,with a hook and aworm.After awhile, she knew, a fishwould swimlazilyuptothehookandgiveawormatweak.Then,withajerk,shewouldlandhimneatlyandtakehimhomeinherhat.“Well,Inever!”MrsBrillwouldsay.“It’sjustwhatweneededforsupper.”

Beside her the Twins were happily paddling. Michael steered his shipthroughaterriblestorm.MaryPoppinssatprimlyonherbenchandrockedtheperambulatorwithonefoot.Hersilverneedleflashedinthesunlight.TheParkwasquietanddreamyandstill.

Bang!TheElderlyGentlemanclosedhisbookandthesoundshatteredthesilence.“Oh,Isay!”protestedashrillsweetvoice.“Youmighthaveletmefinish!”JaneandMichaellookedupinsurprise.Theystared.Theyblinked.Andthey

staredagain.Forthere,onthegrassbeforethem,stoodthelittlemarblestatue.ThemarbleDolphinwasclaspedinhisarmsandthepedestalwasquiteempty.

The Elderly Gentleman opened his mouth. Then he shut it and opened itagain.

“Er–didyousaysomething?”hesaidatlast,andhiseyebrowswentuptothetopofhishead.

“Yes,ofcourse Idid!” theBoy replied.“Iwas readingoveryourshoulderthere–”hepointedtowardstheemptypedestal–“andyouclosedthebooktooquickly.IwantedtofinishtheElephantstoryandseehowhegothisTrunk.”

“Oh,Ibegyourpardon,”saidtheElderlyGentleman.“Ihadnoidea–er–ofsucha thing. Ialwaysstopreadingat four,yousee. Ihave togethome tomyTea.”

Heroseandfoldedthehandkerchiefandpickeduptheblacktophat.“Well, now that you’ve finished,” theBoy said calmly, “you can give the

booktome!”TheElderlyGentlemandrewback,clutchingthebooktohisbreast.“Oh,Icouldn’tdothat,I’mafraid,”hesaid.“Yousee,I’veonlyjustbought

it.IwantedtoreaditwhenIwasyoung,butthegrown-upsalwaysgotitfirst.AndnowthatI’vegotacopyofmyown,IreallyfeelImustkeepit.”

Heeyedthestatueuneasilyasthoughhefearedthatatanymomentitmightsnatchthebookaway.

“I could tell you about theElephant’sChild,” Janemurmured shyly to theBoy.

Hewheeledaroundwiththefishinhisarms.“Oh,Jane–wouldyoureally?”hecriedinsurprise.Hismarblefacegleamed

withpleasure.“AndI’lltellyouYellowDogDingo,”saidMichael,“andTheButterflythat

Stamped.”“No!”saidtheElderlyGentlemansuddenly.“HereamIwithasuitofclothes

andahat,andapairof shoes.Andhe’squitenaked. I’llgivehim thebook! Isuppose,”headded,withagloomysigh,“Iwasnevermeanttohaveit.”

He gave the book a last long look, and thrusting it at theMarbleBoy, heturnedawayquickly.ButtheDolphinwriggledandcaughthiseyeandheturnedtotheBoyagain.

“Bytheway,”hesaidcuriously,“Iwonderhowyoucaught thatPorpoise?Whatdidyouuse–alineoranet?”

“Neither,” replied theBoy,withasmile.“Hewasgiven tomewhenIwasborn.”

“Oh–Isee.”TheElderlyGentlemannodded, thoughhestill lookedratherpuzzled.“Well–Imustbegettingalong.Goodday!”Heliftedtheblacktophatpolitelyandhurriedoffdownthepath.

“Thankyou!” theMarbleBoy shoutedafterhim,asheeagerlyopened thebook. On the fly-leaf was written, in spidery writing, “William WeatherallWilkins.”

“I’llcrossouthisnameandputmineinstead.”TheBoysmiledgailyatJaneandMichael.

“But what is your name? And how can you read?” cried Michael, veryastonished.

“MynameisNeleus,”theBoysaid,laughing.“AndIreadwithmyeyes,ofcourse!”

“Butyou’reonlyastatue!”Janeprotested.“Andstatuesdon’tusuallywalkandtalk.Howeverdidyougetdown?”

“I jumped,”repliedNeleus,smilingagain,ashe tossedhismarblecurls.“Iwassodisappointednottofinishthatstory,thatsomethinghappenedtomyfeet.Firsttheytwitched,andthentheyjumpedandthenextthingIknewIwasdownonthegrass!”Hecurledhislittlemarbletoesandstampedontheearthwithhismarblefeet.“Oh,lucky,luckyhumanbeingstobeabletodothiseveryday!I’vewatchedyousooften,JaneandMichael,andwishedIcouldcomeandplaywithyou.Andnowatlastmywishhascometrue.Oh,tellmeyou’regladtoseeme!”

Hetouchedtheircheekswithhismarblefingersandcrowedwithjoyashedancedaround them.Thenbefore theycouldutterawordofwelcomehespedlikeaharetotheedgeoftheLakeanddabbledhishandinthewater.

“So–thisiswhatwaterfeelslike!”hecried.“Sodeepandsoblue–andaslightasair!”HeleantoutoverthesparklingLakeandtheDolphingaveaflickofitstailandslippedfromhisarmswithasplash.

“Catchhim!He’llsink!”criedMichaelanxiously.But the Dolphin did nothing of the kind. It swam round the Lake and

threshed thewater; itdivedandcaught its tail in itsmouthand leapt in theairanddivedagain.Theperformancewas just like a turn in the circus.Andas itsprang,dripping,tothearmsofitsmaster,thechildrencouldnothelpclapping.

“Was it good?” asked Neleus enviously. And the Dolphin grinned andnodded.

“Good!” cried a well-known voice behind them. “I call it extremelynaughty!”

Mary Poppinswas standing at the edge of the Lake and her eyeswere asbrightasherdarningneedle.Neleussprangtohisfeetwithalittlecryandhunghisheadbeforeher.Helookedveryyoungandsmallandshyashewaitedforhertospeak.

“Whosaidyoumightgetdown,mayIask?”Herfacehaditsusuallookoffury.

Heshookhisheadguiltily.“No one,” he mumbled. “My feet jumped down by themselves, Mary

Poppins.”“Thenthey’dbetterjumpupagain,spit-spot.You’venorighttobeoffyour

pedestal.”Hetiltedbackhismarbleheadandthesunlightglancedoffhissmallchipped

nose.“Oh,can’t I staydown,MaryPoppins?”hepleaded.“Do letmestay fora

littlewhileandplaywithJaneandMichael!Youdon’tknowhowlonelyitisupthere, with only the birds to talk to!” The earnest marble eyes entreated her.“Please,MaryPoppins!”hewhisperedsoftly,asheclaspedhismarblehands.

Shegazeddownthoughtfullyforamoment,asthoughsheweremakinguphermind. Then her eyes softened. A little smile skipped over hermouth andcrinkledtheedgeofhercheek.

“Well, just for this afternoon!” she said. “This one time, Neleus! Neveragain!”

“Never–Ipromise,MaryPoppins!”Hegaveheranimpishgrin.“Do you knowMary Poppins?” demandedMichael. “Where did youmeet

her?”hewantedtoknow.Hewasfeelingalittlejealous.

“Of course I do!” exclaimedNeleus, laughing. “She’s a veryold friendofmyFather’s.”

“WhatisyourFather’sname?Whereishe?”Janewasalmostburstingwithcuriosity.

“Faraway.IntheIslesofGreece.HeiscalledtheKingoftheSea.”Ashespoke,themarbleeyesofNeleusbrimmedslowlyupwithsadness.

“What does he do?” demanded Michael. “Does he go to the City – likeDaddy?”

“Oh, no! He never goes anywhere. He stands on a cliff above the sea,holdinghis tridentandblowinghishorn.BesidehimmyMothersits,combingherhair.AndPelias,that’smyyoungerbrother,playsattheirfeetwithamarbleshell.Andallday longthegulls flypast them,makingblackshadowson theirmarblebodies,andtellingthemnewsoftheharbour.Bydaytheywatchthered-sailedshipsgoinginandoutofthebay.Andatnighttheylistentothewine-darkwatersthatbreakontheshorebelow.”

“Howlovely!”criedJane.“Butwhydidyouleavethem?”She was thinking that she would never have left Mr andMrs Banks and

MichaelaloneonthecliffsofGreece.“Ididn’twant to,”said theMarbleBoy.“Butwhatcanastatuedoagainst

men?Theywerealwayscomingtostareatus–peekingandpryingandpinchingourarms.Theysaidweweremadealongtimeagobyaveryfamousartist.Andonedaysomebodysaid, ‘I’ll takehim!’–andhepointedatme.So– Ihad togo.”

HehidhiseyesforamomentbehindtheDolphin’sfin.“Whathappenedthen?”demandedJane.“HowdidyougettoourPark?”“In a packing-case,” said Neleus calmly, and laughed at their look of

astonishment. “Oh, we always travel that way, you know.My family is verymuchindemand.PeoplewantusforParksorMuseumsorGardens.SotheybuyusandsendusbyParcelPost.Itneverseemstooccurtothemthatsomeofusmightbe– lonely.”Hechokeda littleon theword.Thenheflunguphisheadwith a lordly gesture. “But don’t let’s think about that!” he cried. “It’s beenmuchbettersinceyoutwocame.Oh,JaneandMichael,Iknowyousowell–asifyouwerepartofmyfamily. IknowaboutMichael’sKiteandhisCompass;and theRoyalDoultonBowl, andRobertsonAy, and the things you have forsupper. Didn’t you ever noticeme listening?And reading the fairy-tales overyourshoulders?”

JaneandMichaelshooktheirheads.

“IknowAliceinWonderlandbyheart,”hewenton.“AndmostofRobinsonCrusoe. And Everything a Lady Should Know, which is Mary Poppins’favourite.Butbestofallarethecolouredcomics,especiallytheonecalledLot-o’-Fun.Whathappened toTigerTim thisweek?Didheget away safely fromUncleMoppsy?”

“Thenewonecomesouttoday,”saidJane.“We’llallreadittogether!”“Oh, dear!Howhappy I am!” criedNeleus. “TheElephant’sChild, and a

newLot-o’-Fun, andmy legs like thewingsof abird. Idon’tknowwhenmyBirthdayis,butIthinkitmustbetoday!”HehuggedtheDolphinandthebookinhisarmsandcaperedacrossthegrass.

“Hi!Ting-aling-aling!Lookwhereyou’regoing!”theIceCreamMangaveawarningcry.HewaswheelinghisbarrowalongbytheLake.Theprintednoticeinfrontofitsaid:

STOPMEANDBUYONEWHATWONDERFULWEATHER!

“Stop!Stop!Stop!Stop!”criedthechildrenwildly,astheyrantowardsthebarrow.

“Chocolate!”saidMichael.“Lemon!”criedJane.AndthefatlittleTwinsputouttheirhandsandgladlytookwhatwasgiven

them.“Andwotaboutyou!” said the IceCreamMan,asNeleuscameandstood

shylybesidehim.“Idon’tknowwhattochoose,”saidNeleus.“Ineverhadonebefore.”“Wot!Never ’adaNice?Wot’s thematter–weak stummick?Aboyyour

size should know all about Ices! ’Ere!” The IceCreamMan fished inside hisbarrowandbroughtoutaRaspberryBar.“Takethisandsee’owyoulikeit!”

Neleus broke the bar with his marble fingers. He popped one half in theDolphin’smouthandbegantolicktheother.

“Delicious,”hesaid,“muchbetterthanseaweed.”“Seaweed!Ishouldthinkso!Wot’sseaweedgottodowithit?But–talking

ofseaweed,that’sanicebigCod!”TheIceCreamManwavedhishandat theDolphin.“IfyoutookitalongtotheFishmonger’e’dgiveyouafancyprice.”

TheDolphingaveitstailaflickanditsfacelookedveryindignant.“Oh, Idon’twant to sellhim,”saidNeleusquickly.“He isn’t justa fish–

he’safriend!”“Afishykindof friend!”said theman.“Whydoesn’t ’e tellyou toputon

your clothes? You’ll catch your death running round stark naked. Well, nooffencemeant!Ting-aling!Ting-aling!”Herodeawaywhistlingandringinghisbell.

Neleusglancedatthechildrenoutofthecornerofhiseyeandthethreeburstoutintopealsoflaughter.

“Oh, dear!” cried Neleus, gasping for breath. “I believe he thinks I’mhuman!ShallIrundownandtellhimhe’smadeamistake?ThatIhaven’twornclothesfortwothousandyearsandnevercaughtevenasniffle?”

HewasjustabouttodartafterthebarrowwhenMichaelgaveashout.“Lookout!Here’sWilloughby!”hecried,andswallowedtherestofhisice

inonegulp.ForWilloughby,whobelonged toMissLark,hadahabitof jumpingupat

thechildrenandsnatchingfoodfromtheirhands.Hehadrough,bouncy,vulgarmannersandnorespectforanyone.ButwhatelsecouldyouexpectofadogwhowashalfanAiredaleandhalfaRetrieverandtheworsthalfofboth?

Therehecame,lollopingoverthegrass,bouncingandgrinningandstickingout his tongue. Andrew, who was as well-bred asWilloughby was common,trippedgracefullyafterhim.AndMissLarkherselffollowedbreathlessly.

“Justout for a spinbeforeTea!” she trilled. “Suchabeautifuldayand thedogsinsisted–Goodgracious,whatisthatIsee?”

She broke off, panting, and stared at Neleus. Her face, already red, grewredder,andshelookedextremelyindignant.

“You naughty, wicked boy!” she cried. “What are you doing to that poorfish?Don’tyouknowitwilldieifitstaysoutofwater?”

Neleusraisedamarbleeyebrow.TheDolphinswungitstailoveritsmouthtohideamarblesmile.

“You see?” saidMissLark. “It’swrithing in agony!Youmust put it backintothewaterthisminute!”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” said Neleus quickly. “I’m afraid he’d be lonelywithoutme.”HewastryingtobepolitetoMissLark.ButtheDolphinwasnot.Heflappedhistailandwriggledandgrinnedinaverydiscourteousmanner.

“Don’t answerme back! Fish are never lonely!You are justmaking sillyexcuses.”

MissLarkmadeanangrygesturetowardsthegreenbench.“I do think, Mary Poppins,” she said, “you might keep an eye on the

children!Thisnaughtyboy,whoeverheis,mustputthatfishbackwherehegotit!”

Mary Poppins favoured Miss Lark with a stare. “I’m afraid that’s quiteimpossible,ma’am.He’dhavetogotoofar.”

“Farornear–itdoesn’tmatter.Hemustputitbackthisinstant.It’scrueltyto animals and it shouldn’t be allowed.Andrew andWilloughby – comewithme!IshallgoatonceandtelltheLordMayor!”

Awayshebustled,withthedogsatherheels.Willoughby,ashetrottedby,winkedrudelyattheDolphin.

“And tellhim toputhis clotheson!He’ll get sunburnt, runningabout likethat!”shriekedMissLark,asshehurriedoff.

Neleusgavealittlespurtoflaughterandflunghimselfdownonthegrass.“Sunburnt!”hechoked.“Oh,MaryPoppins,doesnobodyguessI’mmadeof

marble?”“Humph!” replied Mary Poppins, snorting. And Neleus tossed her a

mischievoussmile.“That’swhat the Sea-Lions say!” he said. “They sit on the rocks and say

‘Humph!’tothesunset!”“Indeed?”shesaidtartly.AndJaneandMichaelwaited,trembling,forwhat

was surely coming.Butnothinghappened.Her facehadananswering lookofmischiefandtheblueeyesandthemarbleeyessmiledgentlyateachother.

“Neleus,”shesaidquietly,“youhavetenminutesmore.YoucancomewithustotheBookstallandback.”

“And then. . .?”he said,with aquestioning look, ashe tightenedhis armsroundtheDolphin.

She did not answer. She looked across the sparkling Lake and noddedtowardsthepedestal.

“Oh,can’thestay longer,MaryPoppins—?”thechildrenbegan toprotest.Buttheeagerquestionsfrozeontheirlips,forMaryPoppinswasglaring.

“Isaidtenminutes,”sheremarked.“AndtenminutesiswhatImeant.Youneedn’tlookatmelikethat,either.IamnotaGrislyGorilla.”

“Oh,don’t start arguing!” criedNeleus. “Wemustn’twaste a second!”HesprangtohisfeetandseizedJane’shand.“ShowmethewaytotheBookstall!”hesaid.Anddrewherawaythroughthespreadingsunlightandoverthegrassylawns.

Behind them Mary Poppins lifted the Twins into the perambulator andhurriedalongwithMichael.

Lightlyacross the summergrasses ran Janeand theMarbleBoy.Hiscurlsflewout in thewindwith hers andher hot breath blewonhismarble cheeks.Withinher soft and living fingers themarblehandgrewwarmer. “Thisway!”shecried,asshetuggedathisarmanddrewhimintotheLimeWalk.

Attheendofit,bytheFarGate,stoodthegailypaintedBookstall.Abrightsignnailedaboveitsaid:

MR.FOLLY

BOOKSPAPERSANDMAGAZINES

YOUWANTTHEM

IVEGOTTHEM

AfrillofcolouredmagazineshungroundtheBookstall;andasthechildrenracedup,MrFollypoppedhisheadthroughagapinthefrill.Hehadaround,quiet,lazyfacethatlookedasthoughnothingintheworldcoulddisturbit.

“Well,ifitisn’tJaneBanksandFriend!”heremarkedmildly.“IthinkIcanguesswhatyou’vecomefor!”

“The Evening News and Lot-o’-fun,” panted Jane as she put down thepennies.

Neleusseizedthecolouredcomicandskimmedthepagesquickly.“Does Tiger Tim get away?” cried Michael, as he dashed up, breathless,

behindthem.“Yes, he does!” cried Neleus, with a shout of joy. “Listen! ‘Tiger Tim

EscapesClutchesofUncleMoppsy.HisNewAdventurewithOldManDogface.WatchOutForAnotherTigerTimStoryNextWeek!’”

“Hooray!” shoutedMichael, peering round theDolphin’s shoulder toget alookatthepictures.

MrFollywaseyeingNeleuswith interest. “That’sa fineyoungwhaleyougotthere,sonny!Seemsalmost’uman.Wheredidyoucatchhim?”

“Ididn’t,”saidNeleus,glancingup.“Hewasgiventomeasapresent.”“Fancy that! Well, he makes a nice pet! And where do you come from?

Where’syerMa?”“She’salongwayfromhere,”repliedNeleusgravely.“Toobad!”MrFollywaggedhishead.“Dadawaytoo?”Neleussmiledandnodded.“You don’t say!Goodness, youmust be lonely!”Mr Folly glanced at the

marblebody.“Andcoldaswell, I shouldn’twonder,withnotastitchonyour

bones!”HemadeajinglingnoiseinhispocketandthrustouthishandtoNeleus.“There! Get yourself something to wear with that. Can’t go around with

nothingon.Pneumonia,youknow!Andchilblains!”Neleusstaredatthesilverthinginhishand.“Whatisit?”heaskedcuriously.“That’sa’Arf-crown,”saidMrFolly.“Don’ttellmeyouneversawone!”“No,Ineverdid,”saidNeleus,smiling.AndtheDolphingazedat thecoin

withinterest.“Well, I declare!Youpore little chap!Starknakedandnever seen a ’Arf-

crown! Someone ought to be taking care of you!” Mr Folly glancedreproachfullyatMaryPoppins.Andshegavehimanoutragedglare.

“Someoneistakingcareofhim,thankyou!”shesaid.As she spoke she unbuttoned her new white jacket and slipped it round

Neleus’shoulders.“There!”shesaidgruffly.“Youwon’tbecoldnow.Andno thanks toyou,

MrFolly!”Neleus looked from the coat to Mary Poppins and his marble eyes grew

wider.“Youmean–Icankeepitalways?”heasked.“Oh,dearsweetSea-Lion–thankyou!”hecried,andhehuggedherwaistin

hismarblearms.“Lookatme,Jane,inmynewwhitecoat!Lookatme,Michael,inmybeautifulbuttons.”Heranexcitedlyfromonetotheothertoshowoffhisnewpossession.

“That’sright,”saidMrFolly,beaming.“Muchbetterbesurethansorry!Andthe’Arf-crownwillbuyyouanicepairoftrousers—”

“Nottonight,”interruptedMaryPoppins.“We’relateasitis.Now,BestFootForwardandhomewego,andI’llthankyouallnottodawdle.”

Thesunwasswiftlymovingwestwardsasshe trundled thepramdown theLimeWalk.TheBandattheendoftheParkwassilent.Theflowerysunshadeshadallgonehome.The trees stoodstill andstraight in theshadows.TheParkKeeperwasnowheretobeseen.

Jane andMichael walked on either side of Neleus and linked their handsthroughhismarble arms.A silencewasover thehumanchildrenandover themarble childbetween them.Their adventure, like the summerday,was fadingandtheyfeltsadandhappyatthesametime.

“I love you, Neleus,” Jane said softly. “I wish you could stay with usalways.”

“Iloveyoutoo,”heanswered,smiling.“ButImustgoback.Ipromised.”

“I suppose you couldn’t leave the Dolphin?” said Michael, stroking themarblefin.

Janelookedathimangrily.“Oh,Michael – how can you be so selfish!Howwould you like to spend

yourlife,allaloneupthereonapedestal?”“I’dlikeit–ifIcouldhavetheDolphin,andcallMaryPoppinsaSea-Lion!”“Itellyouwhat,Michael!”saidNeleusquickly.“Youcan’thavetheDolphin

–he’spartofme.But theHalf-crown isn’t. I’llgiveyou that.”Hepushed themoneyintoMichael’shand.“AndJanemusthavethebook,”hewenton.“Butpromise,Jane,andcrossyourheart,thatyou’llletmereaditoveryourshoulder.AndeveryweekyoumustcometothebenchandreadmethenewLot-o’-Fun.”

Hegavethebookalastlonglookandtuckeditunderherarm.“Oh,Ipromise,Neleus!”shesaidfaithfully,andcrossedherheartwithher

hand.“I’llbewaitingforyou,”saidNeleussoftly.“I’llnever,neverforget.”“Walkupanddon’tchatter!”hissedMaryPoppins,assheturnedtowardsthe

Lake.Theperambulator creaked andgroaned as it trundled on itsway.But high

abovethecreakofthewheelstheycouldhearawell-knownvoice.Theytip-toedupbehindMaryPoppinsasshewalkedtotheshadowywater.

“Ineverdoneit!”thevoiceprotested.“Andwouldn’t–notifyoupaidme!”AttheedgeoftheLake,bytheemptypedestal,stoodtheLordMayorwith

twoAldermen.Andbefore them,wavinghisarmsandshouting,andgenerallybehavinginapeculiarmanner,wastheParkKeeper.

“It’snoneofmydoing,YourHonour!”hepleaded.“Icanlookyoustraightintheeye!”

“Nonsense, Smith!” said the Lord Mayor sternly. “You are the personresponsiblefortheParkstatues.Andonlyyoucouldhavedoneit.”

“Youmightaswellconfess!”advisedtheFirstAlderman.“Itwon’tsaveyou,ofcourse,” theSecondadded,“butyou’ll feelsomuch

better!”“ButIdidn’tdoit,I’mtellingyou!”TheParkKeeperclaspedhishandsina

frenzy.“Stopquibbling,Smith.You’rewastingmy time!”TheLordMayor shook

hisheadimpatiently.“First,IhavetogolookingforanakedboywhoIhearismaltreatingsomewretchedfish.Asalmon,MissLarksaid–orwasitahalibut?And now, as if thiswasn’t enough, I find themost valuable of our statues is

missingfromitspedestal.Iamshockedanddisgusted.Itrustedyou,Smith.Andlookhowyourepayme!”

“I am looking. I mean, I don’t have to look! Oh, I don’t knowwhat I’msaying,YourGrace!ButIdoknowInevertouchedthatstatchew!”TheKeeperglancedroundwildlyforhelpandhiseyefellonMaryPoppins.Hegaveacryofhorrifiedtriumphandflungouthishandaccusingly.

“YourWorship,there’stheguiltyparty!ShedoneitorI’lleatme’At!”TheLordMayorglancedatMaryPoppinsandbacktotheParkKeeper.“I’mashamedofyou,Smith!”he shookhishead sorrowfully. “Putting the

blameonaperfectlyrespectable,innocentyoungwomantakingherchargesforanafternoonairing!Howcouldyou?”

HebowedcourteouslytoMaryPoppins,whoreturnedthebowwithalady-likesmile.

“Innocent! ’Er!” theParkKeeper screamed.“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’resayin’,myLord!AssoonasthatgirlcomesintothePark,theplacebeginstogocrosswise.Merry-go-roundsjumpin’upinthesky,peoplecomingdownonkitesand rockets, thePrimeMinister bobbing roundonballoons– and it’s allyourdoing–youCaliban!”HeshookhisfistwildlyatMaryPoppins.

“Poorfellow!Poorfellow!Hismindisunhinged!”saidtheFirstAldermansadly.

“Perhapswe’dbettergetsomehandcuffs,”theSecondwhisperednervously.“Dowhatyoulikewithme!’Angme,whydon’tyer?Butitwasn’tmewot

done it!” Overcome with misery, the Park Keeper flung himself against thepedestalandsobbedbitterly.

MaryPoppinsturnedandbeckonedtoNeleus.Herantohersideonmarblefeetandleanthisheadgentlyagainsther.

“Isittime?”hewhispered,glancingup.Shenoddedquickly.Thenbendingshetookhiminherarmsandkissedhis

marblebrow.ForamomentNeleusclungtoherasthoughhecouldneverletgo.Thenhebrokeaway,smotheringasob.

“Goodbye,JaneandMichael.Don’tforgetme!”Hepressedhischillycheektotheirs.Andbeforetheycouldevensayawordhehaddartedawayamongtheshadowsandwasrunningtowardshispedestal.

“Inever’adnoluck!”wailedtheKeeper.“NeversinceIwasaboy!”“Andyouwon’thaveanynow,myman,unlessyouputback that statue.”

TheLordMayorfixedhimwithanangryeye.ButJaneandMichaelwerelookingneitherattheParkKeepernortheLord

Mayor.Theywerewatchingacurlyheadappearatthefarsideofthepedestal.Up scrambledNeleus, over the ledge, dragging theDolphin after him.His

marblebodyblazedwhiteandbrightinafadingshaftofsunlight.Hestoodatthetopof thepedestal anddanceda few last steps.Thenwithagesture,half-gay,half-sad, he put up a littlemarble hand andwaved them all farewell.As theywavedbackheseemedtotremble,butthatmayhavebeenthetearsintheireyes.TheywatchedhimdrawtheDolphin tohim,soclose that itsmarblemelted tohis.Thenhesmoothedhiscurlswithamarblehandandbenthisheadandwasstill. Even Mary Poppins’ pink-and-white jacket seemed turned to lifelessmarble.

“Ican’tputitbackifInevertookit!”theParkKeeperwentonsobbingandshouting.

“Now,seehere,Smith—”theLordMayorbegan.Thenhegaveagaspandstaggered sidewayswithhishandclasped tohisbrow.“MyJumpingGiraffes!It’scomeback,”hecried.“Andthere’ssomethingdifferentaboutit!”

He peered more closely at the statue and burst into roars of delightedlaughter.HetookoffhishatandwaveditwildlyandslappedtheParkKeeperontheback.

“Smith–yourogue!Sothatwasyoursecret!Whydidn’tyoutellusatfirst,myman?Itcertainlyisasplendidsurprise!Well,youneedn’tgoonpretendingnow...”

FortheParkKeeper,speechlesswithamazement,wasgogglingupatNeleus.“Gentlemen!” The Lord Mayor turned to the Aldermen. “We have sadly

misjudgedthispoorfellow.Hehasprovedhimselfnotonlyanexcellentservantof thecommunity–but anartist aswell.Doyou seewhathehasdone to thestatue?Hehasaddedalittlemarblecoatwithcollarandcuffsofpink.Agreatimprovement,tomymind,Smith!Ineverapprovedofnakedstatues.”

“NorI!”theFirstAldermanshookhishead.“Certainlynot!”saidtheSecond.“Neverfear,mydearSmith.Youshallhaveyourreward.Fromtodayyour

wageswillberaisedoneshillingandanextrastripewillbesewnonyoursleeve.Furthermore,IshallspeakofyoutoHisMajestywhenImakemynextreport.”

AndtheLordMayor,withanotherceremoniousbowtoMaryPoppins,sweptmajesticallyaway,humblyfollowedbythetwoAldermen.

TheParkKeeper,lookingasthoughhewerenotsureifhewereonhisheadorhisheels,staredafterthem.Thenheturnedhispoppingeyestothestatueandstared again at that. TheMarble Boy and his marble fish gazed thoughtfully

downat theLake.If theyheardanythingtheygavenosign.Theywereasstillandquietandsilentastheyhadalwaysbeen.

“Now home again, home again, jiggety-jog!” Mary Poppins raised abeckoningfingerandthechildrenfollowedwithoutaword.TheHalf-crownlayinMichael’spalm,burningandbrightandsolid.AndcoldasthemarblehandofNeleuswasthebookbeneathJane’sarm.

AlongtheWalktheymarchedinsilencethinkingtheirsecretthoughts.Andpresently,onthegrassbehindthem,therecamethethudoffeet.Theyturnedtofind theParkKeeper runningheavily towards them.Hehad takenoffhiscoatandwaswavingit, likeablue-and-redflag,attheendofhiswalking-stick.Hepulled up, panting, beside the perambulator and held out the coat to MaryPoppins.

“Takeit!”hesaidbreathlessly.“I justbeenlookingat thatBoybackthere.He’swearin’yours–with the fourpinkbuttons.Andyou’llneedonewhen itgetschilly.”

Mary Poppins calmly took the coat and slipped it over her shoulders.Herownreflectionsmiledconceitedlyatherfromthepolishedbrassbuttons.

“Thankyou,”shesaidprimly,totheParkKeeper.Hestoodbeforeherinhisshirt-sleeves,shakinghisheadlikeapuzzleddog.“Isupposeyouunderstandwhatitallmeans?”hesaidwistfully.“IsupposeIdo,”sherepliedsmugly.Andwithoutanotherword,shegavetheperambulatoralittlepushandsentit

bowling past him. He was still staring after her, scratching his head, as shepassedthroughthegateofthePark.

*

MrBanks,onhiswayhomefromtheOffice,whistledto themas theycrossedtheLane.

“Well,MaryPoppins,”hegreetedher.“You’reverysmartinyourblue-and-redjacket!HaveyoujoinedtheSalvationArmy?”

“No,sir,”sherepliedprimly.Andthelookshegavehimmadeitquiteclearshehadnointentionofexplaining.

“It’stheParkKeeper’scoat,”Janetoldhimhurriedly.“Hegaveittoherjustnow,”addedMichael.“What – Smith? He gave her the jacket of his uniform? Whatever for?”

exclaimedMrBanks.

ButJaneandMichaelweresuddenlysilent.TheycouldfeelMaryPoppins’gimleteyesmakingholesinthebacksoftheirheads.Theydarednotgoonwiththestory.

“Well,nevermind!”saidMrBankscalmly.“Isupposeshedidsomethingtodeserveit!”

Theynodded.Buttheyknewhewouldneverknowwhatshehaddone,notevenifhelivedtobefifty.Theywalkedupthegardenpathbesidehim,claspingthecoinandthebook.

Andastheywenttheythoughtofthechildwhohadgiventhemthosegifts,theMarbleBoywhoforoneshorthourhaddancedandplayedinthePark.Theythoughtofhimstandingaloneonhispedestal,withhisarmflunglovinglyroundhisDolphin–foreversilent,foreverstillandthesweetlightgonefromhisface.Darknesswouldcomedownuponhimand thestarsand thenightwouldwraphim round. Proud and lonely he would stand there, looking down upon thewatersofthelittleLake,dreamingofthegreatseaandhishomesofaraway...

ChapterFive

PEPPERMINTHORSES

“HI!” SHOUTEDMrBanks angrily, as he rattled theumbrellas in theElephant’sLegthatstoodinthefronthall.

“What is it now,George?” calledMrsBanks, from the foot of thekitchenstairs.

“Somebody’stakenmywalking-sticks!”MrBankssoundedlikeawoundedtiger.

“Here they are, sir!” said Mary Poppins, as she tripped down from theNursery. In one hand she carried a silver-headed ebony cane. From the otherswung a grey ash-stickwith a curved knobbly handle.Without anotherword,andlookingverysuperior,shehandedthestickstoMrBanks.

“Oh!”hesaid,rathertakenaback.“Whydidyouwantthem,MaryPoppins?Ihopeyouhaven’tgotabadleg!”

“No, thankyou, sir!” she saidwith a sniff.Andyouknewby the haughtytoneofhervoice thatMrBankshadinsultedher.Abadleg, indeed!Asifherlegs,aswellaseveryotherpartofher,werenotinperfectcondition!

“Itwasus!”saidJaneandMichaeltogether,peeringoutattheirFatherfrombehindMaryPoppins.

“You!What’s thematterwithyour fat legs?Are they lame,orcrippled,orwhat?”

“Nothing’sthematter,”saidMichaelplaintively.“Wewantedthesticksforhorses.”

“What!My Great-Uncle Herbert’s ebony cane and the stick I won at theChurchBazaar!Areyoumad?”MrBankscouldhardlybelievehisears.

“Well,we’venothingtorideon!”grumbledJane.“Whynottherocking-horse–dearoldDobbin?”calledMrsBanksfromthe

kitchen.“IhateoldDobbin.Hecreaks!”saidMichael,andhestampedhisfootathis

Mother.“ButDobbindoesn’tgoanywhere.Wewantrealhorses!”protestedJane.

“AndI’mtoprovidethem,Isuppose!”MrBanksstrode,fuming,downthehall. “Threemeals a day are not enough!Warm clothes and shoes aremerelytrifles!Nowyouwanthorses!Horses,indeed!Areyousureyouwouldn’tpreferacamel?”

Michael lookedathisFatherwith apainedexpression.Really,he thought,whatshockingbehaviour!Butaloudhesaidpatiently:

“No,thankyou.Justhorses!”“Well, you’ll get them when the moon turns blue! That’s all I can say!”

snappedMrBanks.“Howoftendoesthathappen?”Janeenquired.MrBanks lookedatherangrily.WhatstupidchildrenI’vegot,he thought.

Can’tunderstandafigureofspeech!“Oh–everythousandyearsorso.Onceinalifetime–ifyou’relucky!”he

saidcrossly.And,stuffingthecaneintotheElephant’sLeg,hehookedtheash-stickoverhisarmandstartedfortheCity.

MaryPoppinssmiledasshewatchedhimgo.Acurious,secretsmileitwas,andthechildrenwonderedwhatitmeant.

Mrs Banks came bustling up the kitchen stairs. “Oh, dear!Mary Poppins,whatdoyou think!MissLark’sdog,Willoughby,has justbeen inandeatenatyreofftheperambulator!”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Mary Poppins calmly, as though nothing thatWilloughbyeverdidcouldpossiblysurpriseher.

“Butwhatshallwedoabouttheshopping?”MrsBankswasalmostintears.“I really couldn’t say, I’m sure.” Mary Poppins gave her head a toss, as

thoughneitherdogsnorperambulatorswereanyconcernofhers.“Oh,mustwegoshopping?”grumbledJane.“I’m sick of walking,” said Michael crossly. “I’m sure it’s bad for my

health.”MrsBankstooknonoticeofthem.“Perhaps,MaryPoppins,”shesuggested

nervously,“youcould leaveAnnabelathome todayand takeRobertsonAy tocarrytheparcels.”

“He’s asleep in the wheelbarrow,” Jane informed them. She had lookedthroughthewindow,justafterbreakfast,andseenhimtakinghismorningrest.

“Well,hewon’tbetherelong,”saidMaryPoppins.Andshestalkedoutintothegarden.

Shewas quite right. Hewasn’t there long. Shemust have said somethingReally Awful, for as they trailed after her down the path Robertson Ay was

waitingatthegardengate.“Keepupanddon’t straggle, ifyouplease!This isnotaTortoiseParade.”

MaryPoppinstookaTwinbyeachhandandhurriedthemalongbesideher.“Day inanddayout, it’salways thesame, Inevergetamoment’speace.”

Robertson Ay gave a stifled yawn as he handed Jane his hat to carry andstumbledalongwithhiseyeshalf-closed.

DowntheHighStreetmarchedMaryPoppins,glancingatthewindowsnowandagaintoadmireherownreflection.

Lovely!she thought,asherprim, trimfigure in itspigeon’s-winghatwentbowingfrommirrortomirror.

Her first stop was at Mr Trimlet’s – Ironmonger, Hardware and GardenTools.

“Onemouse-trap!” she said haughtily, as she darted in at the door of theshopandreadfromMrsBanks’list.

MrTrimletwasabonymanwithalargepurplishface.Hewassittingbehindthe counterwith his hat on the back of his head.And themorning paperwasproppedaroundhimlikeanoldChinesescreen.

“Onlyone?”heaskedrudely,peeringroundtheedgeofthescreentolookatMary Poppins. “Sorry,Miss!” he saidwith a leer. “But one trapwouldn’t beworthmewhile!”Heshookhisheadandwasabouttoturnawaywhenhecaughtthelookonherface.Hispurplecheeksturnedthecolouroflilac.

“Justmy joke,”he saidhurriedly. “Nooffencemeant!Why, I’d sell ’alf amouse-trapifIthoughtyouwantedit.Nottomentionanicebit’ocheesetogowithit.”

“Onemincingmachine,”saidMaryPoppins,asshefixedhimwithastare.“AndI’llthrowinapoundofsteakforluck,”saidMrTrimleteagerly.MaryPoppinstooknonotice.“Half-a-dozenpotcleaners,one tinofbees’wax,onefloormop,”she read

outquickly.“Settingup’ouse?”enquiredMrTrimlet,smilingnervouslyashetiedupthe

parcels.“Apacketofnailsandagardenrake,”shewenton.Shelookedrightthrough

hispurplefaceasthoughitweremadeofglass.“Andwotaboutthesawdust?”heenquired.“Allthatwotthemchildrenhas

spilt?”Mary Poppins spun round. Jane and Michael and the Twins were sitting

comfortably on a fat brown sack, and their weight had squeezed a stream of

sawdustoutontothefloor.Hereyesblazed.“If you don’t get up this minute—” she began. And her voice was so

frightful that they sprang to their feet without waiting to hear the rest of thesentence.RobertsonAy,whohadbeenasleeponagardenroller,wokeupwithastartandbegantocollecttheparcels.

“Wewereonlyrestingourlegs—”Michaelbegan.“OneMoreWordandyou’llfindyourselfrestinginBed!Iwarnyou!”she

toldhimfiercely.“I’ll make no charge,” declaredMr Trimlet, as he hurriedly swept up the

sawdust.“Seein’it’syou!”headdedeagerly,stilltryingtobefriendly.MaryPoppinsgavehimacontemptuousstare.“There’spaintonyournose,”sheannouncedcalmly,andstalkedoutofthe

shop.Then off shewent, like a humanwhirlwind, speeding up theHigh Street.

AndoffwentthechildrenandRobertsonAy,wheelingbehindherlikethetailofacomet.

AttheBaker’ssheboughtaloafofbread,twoboxesoftartsandsomegingerbiscuits.

“Don’tmindme,”sighedRobertsonAyasshepiledthemintohisarms.“Iwon’t!” she retorted cheerfully.Shehurriedon to theGreengrocer’s for

peas,beansandcherries.“TheLastStrawbreakstheCamel’sback,”saidRobertsonAy,asshethrust

themathim.“Sotheysay!”sheremarkedwithachillysmileandconsultedherlistagain.ThenextplacewastheStationer’swheresheboughtabottleofink;andthen

shewenttotheChemistforapacketofmustardplasters.RobertsonAylaidhischinontheparcelsandwearilyclosedhiseyes.JaneandMichaelfeltverysorryforhimbutfarmoresorryforthemselves.

BynowtheyhadcometotheendoftheHighStreet.ButstillMaryPoppinsdidnotstop.Thechildrenlookedateachotherandsighed.Therewerenomoreshops.Wherecouldshebegoing?

“Oh, dear, Mary Poppins, my legs are breaking!” said Michael, limpingpathetically.

“Can’t we go home now, Mary Poppins? My shoes are worn out!”complainedJane.

AndtheTwinsbegantowhimperandwhinelikeacoupleoffretfulpuppies.MaryPoppinsregardedthemallwithdisgust.

“AsetofJellyfish– that’swhatyouare!Youhaven’tabackbonebetweenyou!”

Andpoppingtheshopping-listintoherbag,shegaveaquickcontemptuoussniffandhurriedroundthecorner.AfterhertotteredRobertsonAy,hungaboutwith parcels like a Christmas Tree. And behind him trailed the grumblingchildren,stragglingalongwiththeireyesontheground.

“A Jellyfish swims,” said Michael angrily. “And it doesn’t have to goshopping!”Hewas so tired that he almost didn’t carewhetherMary Poppinsheardhimornot.

Thebreezeblewgently fromthePark, fullof thescentsof themorning. Itsmeltof laurel leavesandmoss,andsomethingelse thatwasvaguelyfamiliar.Whatcoulditbe?Janesniffedtheair.

“Michael!”shewhispered.“IsmellPeppermint!”Michaelwasfeelingextremelycross.Buthewouldn’tforthelifeofhimlet

Janesmellsomethingthathecouldn’tsmell.Hesniffedlikeasulkylittledog.“Um-hum,”headmitted,“Idotoo!”Andthenitwasthat theybothnoticedthered-and-greenumbrella.Itstood

beside the iron railings on theTown side of the Park.Against it leant a largewhitesignboard:

MISSCALICOCONFECTIONER

HORSESFORHIRE

saidthewordsinbigblackletters.Thechildrenstared.Forbeneaththered-and-greenumbrellasatoneofthestrangestlittlefigures

theyhadeverseen.Atfirsttheycouldnotmakeoutwhatitwas,foritsparkledandglitteredlikeadiamond.Thentheysawthatitwasasmallelderlyladywithaskinny, leathery,yellowfaceandamaneof shortwhitehair.Theglitterandsparklecamefromherdress,whichwascoveredfromcollar tohemwithpins.They stuck out all over her, like the quills of a hedgehog, andwhenever shemoved they flashed in the sunlight. In her hand she held a riding-whip. Andeverynowandagainshecrackeditatoneofthepassers-by.

“Peppermint Candy! Bargain Prices! All of it made of Finest Sugar!” shecriedinalittlewhinnyingvoiceasthewhipswishedthroughtheair.

“Comeon,Michael!”saidJaneexcitedly,forgettinghowtiredshewas.

Michaelhadnodesiretobefriendly.Ontheotherhand,hewasdeterminednottobeleftoutofanything.Hetookherhandandletherdraghimtowardsthestripedumbrella.

As theydrewnearer the sparkling figure, they sawa sight that filled themwith hunger. For beside her stood a glass jar that was filledwith peppermintwalking-sticks.

“SugarandSpiceAndallthat’sniceAtaVerySpecialBargainPrice!”

sangthelittleoldlady,crackingherwhip.Andjustatthatmomentsheturnedherheadandspiedthestragglinggroup.

Herdarkeyesglitteredlikelittleblackcurrantsasshethrustoutabird-likehand.“Well, I never! If it isn’tMaryPoppins! I haven’t seenyou in amonthof

Tuesdays!”“Thesametoyou,sotospeak,MissCalico!”MaryPoppinsrepliedpolitely.“Well, it all just goes to show!” said Miss Calico. “If you know what I

mean!”sheadded,grinning.Thenherbrightblackgazefelluponthechildren.“Why,MercyMeandaJumpingBean!Whataquartetofsulkyfaces!Cross-

patch,drawthelatch!Youalllookasifyou’dlostsomething!”“Theirtempers,”saidMaryPoppinsgrimly.MissCalico’seyebrowswentupwitharush,andherpinsbegantoflash.“Thundering Tadpoles! Think of that! Well, what’s lost must be found –

that’sthelaw!Now–wheredidyoulose’em?”The little black eyeswent from one to another and somehow they all felt

guilty.“IthinkitmusthavebeenintheHighStreet,”saidJaneinastifledwhisper.“Tut!Tut!Allthatwayback?Andwhydidyoulose’em,mightoneask?”Michael shuffledhis feetandhis facegrewred.“Wedidn’twant togoon

walking—”hebeganshame-facedly.Butthesentencewasneverfinished.MissCalicointerruptedhimwithaloudshrillcackle.

“Whodoes?Whodoes?I’dliketoknow?Nobodywantstogoonwalking.Iwouldn’tdoitmyselfifyoupaidme.Notforasackfulofrubies!”

Michael stared. Could it really be true? Had he found at last a grown-uppersonwhofeltashedidaboutwalking?

“Why,Ihaven’twalkedforcenturies,”saidMissCalico.“Andwhat’smore,none ofmy family do.What – stumpon the ground on two flat feet?They’dthink that quite beneath them!” She cracked her whip and her pins flashedbrightlyassheshookherfingeratthechildren.

“Takemyadviceandalwaysride.Walkingwillonlymakeyougrow.Andwhere does it get you? Pretty near nowhere! Ride, I say! Ride – and see theworld!”

“Butwe’venothing to rideon!” Janeprotested, looking round to seewhatMissCalicorode.For,inspiteofthenotice“HorsesforHire”therewasn’tevenadonkeyinsight.

“Nothingtorideon?Snakesalive!That’saveryunfortunatestateofaffairs!”Miss Calico’s voice had a mournful sound but her black eyes twinkled

impishlyassheglancedatMaryPoppins.ShegavealittlequestioningnodandMaryPoppinsnoddedback.

“Well, itmighthavebeenworse!”criedMissCalico,as shesnatchedupahandfulofsticks.“Ifyoucan’thavehorses–whataboutthese?Atleastthey’llhelpyoualongabit.It’sluckytodayisaBargainDay.Icanletyouhave’emforapinapiece.”

Thescentofpeppermintfilledtheair.Thefourlosttemperscamecreepingbackasthechildrensearchedtheirclothesforpins.Theywriggledandgiggled,andpeekedandpried,butneverapincouldtheyfind.

“Oh, what shall we do, Mary Poppins?” cried Jane. “We haven’t a pinbetweenus!”

“I shouldhopenot!” she replied,witha snort. “Thechildren I care forareproperlymended.Theirclothesareneverdoneupwithpins!”

She gave a disgusted sniff. Then turning back the lapel of her coat, shehandedapintoeachofthechildren.RobertsonAy,whowasdozingagainsttherailings,wokeupwithastartasshehandedhimanother.

“Stick’emin!”shriekedMissCalico,leaningtowardsthem.“Don’tmindiftheyprick.I’mtootoughtofeel’em!”

Theypushed theirpins in among theothers andherdress seemed to shinemorebrightlythaneverasshehandedoutthesticks.

Laughing and shouting, they seized and waved them and the scent ofpeppermintgrewstronger.

“I shan’tmindwalking now!” criedMichael, as he nibbled the end of hispink-and-white stick.A shrill little crybrokeon the air, like a faintprotestingneigh. But Michael was sampling the Peppermint Candy and was far too

absorbedtohearit.“I’m not going to eat mine,” Jane said quickly. “I’m going to keep it

always.”Miss Calico glanced at Mary Poppins and a curious look was exchanged

betweenthem.“Ifyoucan!”saidMissCalico,cacklingloudly.“Youmaykeep’emall, if

you can – andwelcome! Stick ’em in firmly, don’tmindme!” She handed asticktoRobertsonAyashestuckhispininhersleeve.

“Andnow,” saidMaryPoppinspolitely, “ifyou’ll excuseus,MissCalico,we’llgetalonghometodinner!”

“Oh,wait,MaryPoppins!” protestedMichael. “Wehaven’t bought a stickforyou!”Anawful thoughthadcome tohim.What if shehadn’tanotherpin?Wouldhehavetosharehisstickwithher?

“Humph!”shesaid,withatossofherhead.“I’mnotafraidofbreakingmylegs,likesomepeopleIcouldmention!”

“Tee-hee!Ha-ha!Excusemelaughing!Asifsheneededawalking-stick!”MissCalico gave a bird-like chirp, as thoughMichael had said something

funny.“Well, pleased to have met you!” saidMary Poppins, as she shookMiss

Calico’shand.“The Pleasure is mine, I assure you, Miss Poppins! Now, remember my

warning!Alwaysride!Goodbye,goodbye!”MissCalicotrilled.Sheseemedtohavequiteforgottenthefactthatnoneofthemhadanyhorses.

“Peppermint Candy! Bargain Prices! All of it made of the Finest Sugar!”theyheardhershoutingastheyturnedaway.

“GotaPin?”sheenquiredofapasser-by,awell-dressedgentlemanwearinganeye-glass.Hecarriedabrief-caseunderhisarm.Itwasmarkedingoldletters:

LORDCHANCELLORDISPATCHES

“Pin?”saidthegentleman.“Certainlynot!WherewouldIgetsuchathingasaPin?”

“Nothingfornothing,that’sthelaw!Youcan’tgetastickifyou’vegotnopin!”

“Take one ’omine, duck! I got plenty!” said a large fatwomanwhowastramping past. She hitched a basket under her arm and, plucking a handful of

pinsfromhershawl,sheofferedthemtotheLordChancellor.“One Pin Only! Bargain Prices! Never Pay Two when you’re asked for

One!”MissCalicocriedinherhen-likecackle.ShegavetheLordChancellorastickandhehookeditoverhisarmandwenton.

“You and your laws!” said the fatwoman, laughing as she stuck a pin inMissCalico’sskirt.“Well,gimmeastrongone,ducky,do! I’mhardlyaFairyFay!”MissCalicogaveheralong,thickstickandshegraspedthehandleinherhandandleantherweightagainstit.

“Feedthebirds!Tuppenceabag!Thankyou,mydear!”criedthefatwomangaily.

“Michael!” cried Jane,with a gasp of surprise. “I do believe it’s the BirdWoman!”

Butbeforehehadachancetoreply,averystrangethinghappened.Asthefatwoman leant herweight on the stick, it gave a little upward spring. Then,swoopingunderherspreadingskirts,itheavedherintotheair.

“Upsadaisy!’EreIgo!”TheBirdWomanseizedthepepperminthandleandwildlyclutchedherbasket.Offswept thewalking-stickover thepavementandupacross the railings.A loudneighing filled theair and thechildrenstared inamazement.

“Holdtightly!”Michaelshoutedanxiously.“’Old tightyourself!” theBirdWomananswered, forhis stickwasalready

leapingbeneathhim.“Hi, Jane!Mine’sdoing it too!”he shrieked, as the stickborehim swiftly

away.“Be careful,Michael!” Jane called after him. But just at thatmoment her

ownstickwobbledandmadea longplungeupwards.Away itswoopedon thetrail of Michael’s, with Jane astride its pink-and-white back. It bucked andrearedlikeahorsebeneathherandshekeptherhandonitsneckforarein.Overthe laurelhedgesherodeandasshecleared the lilacbushesacracklingshapespedpasther.ItwasRobertsonAywithhisarmsfullofparcels.Hewaslyinglengthwaysalonghisstickanddozingasherode.

“I’llraceyoutotheoaktree,Jane!”criedMichael,asshetrottedup.“Quietly,please!Nohorseplay,Michael!Putyourhats straight and follow

me!”MaryPoppins,onherparrotumbrella,rodepastthematacanter.Neatlyand

primly,asthoughshewereinarocking-chair,shesatontheblacksilkfolds.InherhandsheheldtwoleadingstringsattachedtotheTwins’pinksticks.

“Allof’emmadeoftheFinestSugar!”MissCalico’svoicecamefloatingupastheearthfellawaybeneaththem.

“She’s sellinghundredsof sticks!” criedMichael.For the skywasquicklyfillingwith riders. Invisible hooves seemed to pound the air and high-pitchedneighscamefromeverydirection.

“There goesAuntieFlossie – over the dahlias!” cried Jane, as she pointeddownwards.Belowthemrodeamiddle-agedlady.Herfeatherboastreamedoutonthewindandherhatwasblowingsideways.

“Soitis!”saidMichael,staringwithinterest.“Andthere’sMissLark–withthedogs!”

Abovetheweeping-willowtreesaneatlittlepeppermintstickcametrotting.OnitsbacksatMissLark,lookingrathernervous,andbehindherrodethedogs.Willoughby, looking none theworse for the bicycle tyre, smiled rudely at thechildren. But Andrew kept his eyes tight shut, as heights always made himgiddy.

Ka-lop!Ka-lop!Ka-lop!Ka-lop!camethesoundofgallopinghooves.“Help!Help!Murder!Earthquakes!”criedahoarse,distractedvoice.The children turned to seeMr Trimlet riding madly up behind them. His

handsclungtightlytothePeppermintCandyandhisfacehadturnedquitewhite.“Itriedtoeatmystick,”hewailed,“andlookwhatitdidtome!”“BargainPrices!OnlyonePin!Yougetwhatyougive!”cameMissCalico’s

voice.By this time the sky was like a race-course. The riders came from all

directions;anditseemedtothechildrenthateveryonetheyknewhadboughtapepperminthorse.AmaninafeatheredhatrodebyandtheyrecognisedhimasoneoftheAldermen.InthedistancetheycaughtaglimpseoftheMatchMan,ashe trotted along on a bright pink stick. The Sweep raced past with his sootybrushes and the IceCreamMan cantered up beside him, licking a StrawberryBar.

“Outoftheway!Makeroom!Makeroom!”criedaloud,importantvoice.And dashing along at break-neck speed they saw theLordChancellor.He

leant lowover theneckofhisstickas thoughhewereridingaDerbyWinner.His eye-glass was firmly stuck in his eye and his brief-case bounced up anddownasherode.

“ImportantDispatches!” theyheardhimshout.“Imustget to thePalace intimeforLunch!Makeroom!Makeroom!”Andawayhegallopedandsoonwasoutofsight.

What a commotion therewas in thePark!Everyone jostled everyone else.“Getup!”and“Whoa there!” the ridersyelled.And thewalking-stickssnortedlikeangryhorses.

“Keep to the Left! No overtaking!” the ParkKeeper cried, as he canteredamong them.Hisstickwas likeaPoliceman’shorse; itpushedback the riderswithitshandleandheadedthebuckingsteedstotheleft.

“NoParking!”hebawled.“PedestriansCrossing!SpeedLimitTwentyMilesanHour!”

“Feed the Birds! Tuppence a Bag!” The Bird Woman trotted among thecrowd. She moved through a tossing surge of wings – pigeons and starlings,blackbirds and sparrows. “Feed theBirds! Tuppence aBag!” she cried as shetossedhernutsintheair.

TheParkKeeperpulleduphisstickandshouted:“Why,Mother,wotareyoudoin’’ere?YououghttobedownatStPaul’s!”“’Ullo,Fred,myboy!I’mfeedin’theBirds!SeeyouatTea-time!Tuppence

aBag!”TheParkKeeperstaredassherodeaway.“I never saw ’er do that before, not evenwhen Iwas a boy! ’Ere!Whoa,

there! Look where you’re goin’!” he cried, as a bright pink walking-stickstreakedby.

OnitrodeEllenandthePoliceman,whowereofffortheirAfternoonOut.“Oh! Oh!” shrieked Ellen. “I daren’t look down! It makes me feel quite

giddy!”“Well, don’t, then. Look at me instead!” said the Policeman, holding her

roundthewaistastheirstickgallopedswiftlyaway.Onandonwent thepeppermintwalking-sticksand theirpinknessshone in

themorningsun.Overthetreestheyboretheirriders,overthehouses,overtheclouds.

DownbelowthemMissCalico’svoicegrewfaintereverymoment.“PeppermintCandy!BargainPrices!AllofthemmadeoftheFinestSugar!”AndatlastitseemedtoJaneandMichaelthatthevoicewasnolongerMiss

Calico’s,butthefaintshrillneighofalittlehorseinaverydistantmeadow.They threaded theirway through the crowding riders, bouncing upon their

peppermint sticks.Thewind ran swiftlyby their facesand theechoofhooveswas in their ears.Oh,wherewere they riding?Home todinner?Orout to theuttermostendsoftheearth?

Andeverbeforethem,showingtheway,makingapaththroughthejostling

riders,wentthefigureofMaryPoppins.Shesatherumbrellawithelegantease,herhandswelldownonitsparrothead.Thepigeon’swinginherhatflewataperfectangle,notafoldofherdresswasoutofplace.Whatshewas thinking,theycouldnottell.Buthermouthhadasmallself-satisfiedsmileasthoughshewerethoroughlypleasedwithherself.

CherryTreeLanegrewnearerandnearer.TheAdmiral’stelescopeshoneinthesun.

“Oh,Iwishweneednevergodown!”criedMichael.“Iwishwecouldrideallday!”criedJane.“Iwish tobehomebyOneO’clock.Keepupwithme,please!”saidMary

Poppins. She pointed the beak of her parrot umbrella towards NumberSeventeen.

They sighed, though they knew it was no good sighing. They patted thenecksoftheirwalking-sticksandfollowedherdownwardsthroughthesky.

Thegardenlawn,likeabrightgreenpaddock,roseslowlyuptomeetthem.Down to it raced thepeppermint sticks, rearingandprancing likepoloponies.RobertsonAywas the first to land.His stick pulled up in the pansy bed andRobertson opened his eyes and blinked. He yawned and gathered his parcelstogetherandstaggeredintothehouse.

Down past the Cherry Trees trotted the children. Down, down, till thegrassesgrazedtheirfeet,andthesticksstoodstillonthelawn.

At thesamemoment, theparrot-headedumbrella, itsblacksilkfolds likeapairofwings,swoopeddownamongtheflowers.MaryPoppinsalightedwithaladylikejump.Thenshegavetheumbrellaalittleshakeandtuckeditunderherarm.Tolookat thatneat,respectablepair,youwouldneverhaveguessedtheyhadcrossedtheParkinsuchacuriousfashion.

“Oh,whatagloriousride!”criedMichael.“Howluckyyouhadthosepins,Mary Poppins!” He rushed to her across the lawn and hugged her round thewaist.

“IsthisagardenoraJumbleSale?I’llthankyoutoletmego!”shesnapped.“I’llneverlosemytemperagain!Ifeelsosweetandgood!”saidJane.MaryPoppinssmileddisbelievingly.“Howveryunusual!”sheremarked,as

shestoopedtopickupthesticks.“I’ll take mine, Mary Poppins!” he pleaded. “I shan’t even nibble the

handle!”Mary Poppins took not the slightest notice. Without a word she sailed

upstairswiththewalking-sticksunderherarm.

“Butthey’reours!”complainedMichael, turningtoJane.“MissCalicotoldustokeepthem!”

“No, shedidn’t,” said Jane,with a shakeof her head. “She saidwemightkeepthemifwecould.”

“Well,ofcoursewecan!”saidMichaelstoutly.“We’llkeepthemtorideonalways!”

And indeed, the sight of the walking-sticks, as they stood in a corner byMaryPoppins’bed,wasveryreassuring.Forwho,thechildrenfondlythought,would want to steal four sticky poles of sugar? Already the pink-and-whitestripedsticksseemedpartoftheNurseryfurniture.

They leant together with handles locked, like four faithful friends. Not amovementcamefromanyofthem.Theywerejustlikeanyothersticks,quietlywaitinginadustycornertogoforawalkwiththeirowners...

Theafternoonpassedandbedtimecameand thescentofpeppermint filled theNursery.Michaelsniffedashehurriedinfromhisbath.Heflungalovingglanceatthesticks.

“They’reall right!”hewhispered,asJanecame in.“But I thinkweshouldstayawaketonightandseethatnothinghappens.”

Jane nodded.She had seen those sticks do curious things and she felt thatMichaelwasright.

So, long after Mary Poppins had gone, they lay awake and stared at thecorner.Thefourdimshapesstoodstillandsilentbesidetheneatcampbed.

“Whereshallwegotomorrow?”askedMichael.“IthinkI’llrideovertoseeAuntFlossieandaskherhowshelikedit.”Hegaveayawnandshuthisrighteye.Hecouldseejustaswellwithone,hethought.Andtheothercouldtakearest.

“I’dliketoseeTimbuctoo,”saidJane.“Ithassuchabeautifulsound.”Therewasalongpause.“Don’tyouthinkthat’sagoodidea,Michael?”But Michael did not answer. He had closed the other eye – just for a

moment.Andinthatmomenthehadfallenasleep.Jane sat up, faithfully watching the sticks. She watched and watched and

watchedandwatched,tillherheadfellsidewaysuponthepillow.“Timbuctoo,”shemurmureddrowsily,withhereyesontheslendershapesin

the corner. And after that she said nothing more because she was much toosleepy...

Downstairs theGrandfatherClockstruck ten.ButJanedidnothear it.ShedidnothearMaryPoppinscreepinandundressbeneathhercottonnightgown.ShedidnothearMrBankslockingthedoors,northehouseasitsettleddownforthenight. She was dreaming a beautiful dream of horses and through it cameMichaelcallinghername.

“Jane!Jane!Jane!”cametheurgentwhisper.She sprang up and tossed the hair from her eyes. BeyondMary Poppins’

sleeping shape she could seeMichael sitting on the edge of his bed with hisfingertohislips.

“Iheardafunnynoise!”hehissed.Jane listened.Yes!Sheheard it too.Sheheldherbreathas shecaught the

soundofahigh,shrill,far-awaywhistle.“Whew-ee!Whew-ee!”Itcamenearerandnearer.Then,suddenly,fromthenightoutside,theyheard

ashrillvoicecalling.“Come,Sugar!Come,Lightfoot!Come,Candy!Come,Mint!Don’twaitor

you’llbelate.That’sthelaw!”Againcamethewhistle,clearerandlouder.Andat thesamemoment there

wasaquickscuffleinthecornerbyMaryPoppins’bed.Rattle!Clash!Bang!Swoop!Andthefourwalking-sticks,oneafteranother,roseupandleaptoutof the

window.Ina flash thechildrenwereoutofbedand leaningacross thesill.Allwas

darkness.Thenighthadnotasinglestar.ButovertheCherryTreessomethingshonewithaqueerunearthlybrilliance.

It wasMiss Calico. She flashed like a little silver hedgehog, as she rodethroughtheskyonapeppermintstick.Herwhipmadelittlecracksintheairandherwhistlepiercedthestill,darknight.

“Comeup,youslow-coaches!”shescreamed,asthefoursticksfollowedher,neighingwildly.

“Dancer,youdonkey,comeup!”shecalled.Andfromsomewhere,downbythekitchensteps,anotherstickcametrotting.

“ThatmustbeRobertsonAy’s!”saidJane.“Whereareyou,Trixie?Comeup,mygirl!”MissCalicocrackedherwhip

again.And out fromMissLark’s best bedroomwindow another stick leapt tojointhethrong.

“Come,Stripe!Come,Lollipop!DappleandTrot!”Fromeverydirectionthe

stickscameracing.AndMissCalicoflashedlikeastaramongthem.“Shake a leg,Blossom!Look sharp, there,Honey!Thosewho roam,must

comehome.That’s the law!”Shewhistled themupandcrackedherwhipandlaughedastheyleaptthroughtheairtowardsher.

The whole sky now was studded with sticks. It rang with the thunder ofgallopinghoovesandthetrumpetingneighsofpepperminthorses.Atfirst theylookedlikesmallblackshadowswiththecolourgonefromtheirshiningbacks.ButaglowofmoonrisecamefromtheParkandsoontheyappearedinalltheirbrightness.Theyshoneandshimmeredastheygalloped;theirpinklegsflashedintherisinglight.

“Come up, my fillies! Come up, my nags! All of you made of the finestsugar!”

High and sweet cameMissCalico’s voice, as she called her horses home.Crack! went her whip as they trotted behind her, snorting and tossing theirpeppermintheads.

Then themoon rose, full and roundandclear, above the treesof thePark.AndJane,asshesawit,gaveagaspandclutchedherbrother’shand.

“Oh,Michael!Look!It’sblue!”shecried.Andblueindeeditwas.Outfromtheothersideofearth thegreatbluemooncamemarching.Over

the Park and over the Lane it spread its bright blue rays. It hung from thetopmostpeakofthesky,andshonelikealamponthesleepingworld.

Andacrossitslight,likeaflockofbats,rodeMissCalicoandherstringofhorses.Theirshapesspedpastthebigbluemoonandflashedforamomentinitsbrightness. Then away went the racing peppermint sticks, through the distantshining sky. The crack of the whip grew smaller and smaller. Miss Calico’svoicegrewfastandfaint.Tillatlastitseemedasthoughsheandherhorseshadfadedintothemoonlight.

“AllofthemmadeoftheFinestSugar!”Alastsmallechocamefloatingback.Thechildrenleantonthewindow-sillandweresilentforamoment.ThenMichaelspoke.“Wecouldn’tkeepthem,afterall,”hesaidinamournfulwhisper.“Shenevermeantusto,”saidJane,asshegazedattheemptysky.They turned together from thewindowand themoon’sblue light streamed

intotheroom.Itlaylikewateruponthefloor.Itcreptacrossthechildren’scotstill it reached thebed in the corner.Then, full and clear andbold andblue, it

shoneuponMaryPoppins.Shedidnotwake.Butshesmiledasecret,satisfiedsmileas though,even inherdeepestdreams, shewas thoroughlypleasedwithherself.

Theystoodbesideher,hardlybreathing,astheywatchedthatcurioussmile.Thentheylookedateachotherandnoddedwisely.

“Sheknows,” saidMichael, inawhisper.AndJanebreathedananswering“Yes.”

Foramomenttheysmiledathersleepingfigure.Thentheytip-toedbacktotheirbeds.

The blue moonlight lay over their pillows. It lapped them round as theyclosed their eyes. It gleamed uponMary Poppins’ nose as she lay in her oldcampbed.Andpresently,asthoughbluemoonswerenothingtoher,sheturnedherfaceaway.Shepulledthesheetupoverherheadandhuddleddowndeeperundertheblankets.AndsoontheonlysoundintheNurserywasMaryPoppins’snoring.

ChapterSix

HIGHTIDE

“ANDBESUREyoudon’tdropit!”saidMaryPoppins,asshehandedMichaelalargeblackbottle.

Hemetthewarningglintinhereyeandshookhisheadearnestly.“I’llbeextraspeciallycareful,”hepromised.Hecouldnothavegonemore

cautiouslyifhehadbeenaBurglar.He and Jane andMary Poppins had been on a visit to Admiral Boom to

borrowaBottleofPortforMrBanks.NowitwaslyinginMichael’sarmsandhe was walking gingerly – pit-pat, pit-pat – like a cat on hot bricks. Anddawdling along behind came Jane, holding the SpottedCowrie Shell thatMrsBoomhadgivenher.

Theyhadhadawonderful afternoon.TheAdmiralhad sung“ISawThreeShipsa-Sailing”andshownthemhisfull-riggedShipinaBottle.MrsBoomhadprovidedGingerPopandaplateofmacaroons.AndBinnacle,theretiredPiratewhodid theAdmiral’sbookingandmending,hadallowed them to lookat theSkullandCrossbonestattooeduponhischest.

Yes,thoughtMichael,lookingdownatthebottle,ithadreallybeenalovelyday.

Then,aloud,hesaidwistfully,“IwishIcouldhaveaGlassofPort.I’msureitmustbedelicious!”

“Stepup,please!”MaryPoppinscommanded.“Anddon’tkeepscratchingatthatlabel,Michael!YouarenotaTuftedWoodpecker!”

“Ican’tstepupanyquicker!”hegrumbled.“Andwhymustwehurry,MaryPoppins?”Hewas thinking thatwhen the bottlewas empty hewouldmake ashiptoputinit.Abeautifullittlefull-riggedship,liketheoneintheAdmiral’sbottle.

“Wearehurrying,”saidMaryPoppins,withawfuldistinctness,“becausethisistheSecondThursdayandIamgoingout.”

“Oh!” groanedMichael,whohad quite forgotten. “Thatmeans an eveningwithEllen!”

HelookedatJaneforsympathybutJanetooknonotice.ShewasholdingherCowrieShelltoherearandlisteningtothesoundofthesea.

“I can’t bearEllen!”Michael grumbled. “She’s always got a cold and herfeetaretoobig.”

“IwishIcouldseetheSea!”Janemurmured,asshepeeredinsidetheshell.MaryPoppinsgaveanimpatientsnort.“Thereyougo!Wish,wish,wishing

–alldaylong!Ifitisn’taGlassofPort,it’stheSea!Ineverknewsuchapairforwishing!”

“Well,youneverneed towish!”saidMichael.“You’reperfect, justasyouare!”

She’llbepleasedwiththat,hethoughttohimself,ashegaveheraflatteringsmile.

“Humph!”saidherdisbelievinglook.Butadimpledancedsuddenlyintohercheek.

“Getalongwithyou,MichaelBanks!”shecried,andhustled themthroughthegate...

Itturnedoutlater,toMichael’ssurprise,thatEllenhadnocold.Shehadanotherailment, however, which went by the name of ’Ay Fever. She sneezed andsneezed till her face grew red. And it seemed to Michael that her feet grewbigger.

“I’m afraid I’ll sneeze me ’ead right off!” she said lugubriously. AndMichaelalmostwishedshewould.

“If there weren’t any Thursdays,” he said to Jane, “Mary Poppins wouldnevergoout!”

But,unfortunately,everyweekhadaThursdayandonceMaryPoppinswasoutofthehouseitwasnogoodcallingherback.

Thereshewentnow,trippingdowntheLane.Sheworeherblackstrawhatwithdaisiesandherbestbluecoatwithsilverbuttons.Thechildrenleantfromthe Nursery window andwatched her retreating back. The parrot-head of herumbrellahadaperkylookandshewalkedwithajaunty,contentedairasthoughsheknewthatapleasantsurpriseawaitedherroundthecorner.

“Iwonderwhereshe’sgoing!”saidJane.“I wish I were going too!” groaned Michael. “Oh, Ellen, can’t you stop

sneezing!”“Colder-hearted than a Toad, that boy is!” observed Ellen to her

handkerchief.“AsifIdiditforchoice!A-tishoo!”

She sneezed till theNursery furniture trembled.She sneezed the afternoonawayandshesneezedallthroughsupper.Shesneezedthefiveofthemthroughtheir baths and put them into bed, still sneezing. Then she sneezed on thenightlight,sneezedthedoorshutandsneezedherselfdownthestairs.

“Thankgoodness!”saidMichael.“Now,let’sdosomething!”If Mary Poppins had been on duty they would never have dared to do

anything.ButnobodytookanynoticeofEllen.Shesimplydidn’tcount.JanepatteredovertothemantelpieceandtookdowntheCowrieShell.“It’sstillgoingon!”shesaidwithdelight.“Singingandgentlyroaring!”“Goodgracious!”criedMichael,ashetoolistened.“Icanevenhearthefish

swimming!”“Don’tbesosilly!Whatnonsenseyoutalk!Nobodycanhearafishswim!”Jane and Michael glanced round hurriedly. Whose voice was that? And

wherediditcomefrom?“Well, don’t standgogglingat eachother!Comeon in!” the strangevoice

cried.AndthistimeitseemedtocomefromtheShell.“It’sperfectlysimple!Justshutyoureyesandholdyourbreath–anddive!”“Divewhere?”saidMichaeldisbelievingly.“Wedon’twanttohitourheads

onthehearthrug!”“Hearthrug?Don’tbesosilly!Dive!”thevoicecommandedagain.“Comeon,Michael!Standbesideme!Atleastwecantry!”saidJane.So,holdingtheCowrieShellbetweenthem,theyshuttheireyesanddrewin

theirbreathanddivedasthevoicehadtoldthem.Totheirsurprisetheirheadshitnothing.ButtheroaringsoundfromtheShellgrewlouderandawindranswiftlybytheircheeks.Downtheywent,swoopinglikeapairofswallows,tillsuddenlythewatersplashedaroundthemandawavewentovertheirheads.

Michaelopenedhismouthandgaveasplutter.“Oh,oh!”hecriedloudly,“ittastesofsalt!”

“Well, what did you think it would taste of? Sugar?” said the same littlevoicebesidethem.

“Areyouallright,Michael?”Janecalledanxiously.“Ye-yes,”hesaidbravely.“Aslongasyou’rethere!”Sheseizedhishandandtheydivedtogetherthroughrisingwallsofwater.“Shan’tbelongnow,”thevoiceassuredthem.“Icanseethelightsalready.”Lightsinthewater–howstrange!thoughtJane.Andsheopenedhereyesfor

apeep.Belowshonea rippleofcoloured flares–blue, roseandsilver, scarletand

green.“Pretty, aren’t they?” said the voice in her ear. And, turning, she saw,

lookinggleefullyather, the round,brighteyeofaSea-Trout.Hewasperchedlikeabirdontheboughofatree,whosebrancheswereallofcrimson.

“That’scoral!”shecriedinastonishment.“Wemustbedowninthedeepsofthesea!”

“Well,wasn’tthatwhatyouwanted?”saidtheTrout.“Ithoughtyouwishedyoucouldseethesea!”

“Idid,”saidJane,lookingverysurprised.“ButIneverexpectedthewishtocometrue.”

“GreatOceans!Why bother towish it, then? I call that simply awaste oftime.Butcomeon!Wemustn’tbelatefortheParty!”

And before they had time towonderwhere the Partywas, he swept awaythroughtheforestsofcoralandtheydivedbehindhimwiththegreatestofease.

“Oh,whatagloriousfeeling!”shriekedMichael,asheswamalongatthetailoftheTrout.

“JumpingJellyfish!”criedafrightenedvoice.“Whatastartyougaveme!Itlookedlikeanet!”AlargefishdartedthroughacurlofJane’shairandhurtledaway,lookingveryupset.

“That’stheHaddock.He’sjumpy,”theTroutexplained.“He’slostsomanyfriendsup there–”hepointedhisfinup throughthewater–“andhe’salwaysafraidit’shisturnnext.”

Janethoughthowoftenshehadeatenhaddockforbreakfastandfeltalittleguilty.

“I’msorry—”shebegantosay,whenaloudroughvoiceinterruptedher.“Move along, please! Don’t block up the sea-lanes!Why can’t you keep

your fins toyourself!”AhugeCodshoulderedhiswaybetween them, lashingoutwithhistailinalldirections.

“ClutteringuptheOceanlikethis!It’sdisgraceful!I’llbelatefortheParty!”Heflungoutanangryglanceat thechildren.“Andwhoareyou,anyway?”hedemanded.

TheywerejustabouttotellhimtheirnameswhentheTroutswamupbesidetheCodandwhisperedinhisear.

“Oh,Isee!Well,Ihopethey’vegotmoneytopayfortheirtickets!”“Well–no,”Janefumbledinherpocket.“Tch,tch,tch!It’salwaystheway.Nomethodinanyone’smadness.Here!”

TheCodwhiskedacoupleofflatwhitediscsfromapocketunderhistail.“Sand

Dollars,”heexplainedimportantly.“Ialwayskeepafewaboutme.Neverknowwhen I may need ’em.” He tossed the dollars at the children and flounderedawaythroughthecoral.

“Silly Old Codger!” remarked the Trout. “You needn’t worry about yourtickets.You’reGuestsofHonour!You’llgetinfree.”

Jane andMichael looked at each other in surprise. They had never beforebeenguestsofhonourandtheyfeltveryproudandsuperior.

“Who’llget in free, I’d like toknow?Nobody’sgoing toget in free,whileI’maroundintheOcean.Norout,either,ifitcomestothat!”agrating,saw-likevoiceinformedthem.

Jane and Michael spun round. A pair of staring eyes met theirs. A widemouthsmiledahorriblesmile;andasetofhairy,hungryfeelersreachedoutineverydirection.ItwasanOctopus.

“Yum,yu-u-um!”saidtheOctopus,leeringatMichael.“BobbyShafto’sfatand fair – and just what I need for my Supper!” He reached out one of thedreadfulfeelersandMichaelgaveasqueakofterror.

“Oh,no,youdon’t!”theTroutsaidquickly.AndhewhisperedawordtotheOctopusasJanewhiskedMichaelaway.

“What?Speakup,can’tyou?I’mhardofhearing!Oh,Isee.Theybelongto–allright,allright!”

TheOctopus drew in his feeler regretfully. “We are always delighted,” hewentonloudly,“tohaveamongusatHighTideanybodybelongingto—”

“What in the Sea is all that chatter? I never get a moment’s peace!” aquerulousvoicebrokein.

The children turned in its direction. But all they sawwas one small clawwavingfrominsideashell.

“That’stheHermitCrab!”theTroutexplained.“Livesbyhimselfanddoesnothingbutgrumble.Shutsuplikeaclamifanyonespeakstohim.But,come!Wemusthurry.Themusic’sstarting.”

Andoffhedartedthroughthewallsofwater.Softsoundsofmusiccametotheirearsastheyfollowedhimthroughatunnelofrock.Afaintglowshoneattheendofthetunnelandthemusicgrewlouderastheyswamtowardsit.Thensuddenlytheireyesweredazzledasafloodofbrilliancebrokeuponthem.Theyhad reached the end of the shadowy tunnel and before themwas the loveliestsightthechildrenhadeverseen.

There lay the stretching floor of the sea, sownwith soft lawnsof greenestsea-weed.Itwasthreadedwithpathsofgoldensandanddappledwithflowersof

every colour;white oceandaisies andpink sea-poppies and lilies and roses ofredandyellow.Upfromthesandstretchedtreesofcoral,andplumesofsea-fernlolledonthewater.Thedarkrocksglitteredwithshiningshellsandoneofthem,thelargestofall,wascoveredwithmother-of-pearl.Behindthisrocklayadeepdark cavern, as black as the sky on amoonless night. And far within it faintlightstwinkledasthoughstarsshoneinthedepthsofthesea.

JaneandMichael,atthetunnel’sedge,lookedoutandgaspedwithdelight.Nothinginthatbrightscenewasstill.Therocksthemselvesseemedtobow

andswingintheendlessrippleofwater.Thesmallfishflutteredlikebutterfliesbetween theswaying flowers.And festoonsof sea-weed, slung from thecoral,werehungwithathousandswinginglights.

Chinese lanterns! thought Jane toherself.But, lookingcloser, shesaw thatthelightswerereallyluminousfish.Theyhungbytheirmouthsfromthestringsofsea-weedandlitupthelawnswiththeirbrightness.

Themusic was playingmore loudly now. It came from a little terrace ofcoralwhereseveralCrabswereplayingonfiddles.AFlounderwaspuffingoutitscheeksandblowingdownaconchshell,whileCornet fishplayedonsilvercornetsandaBassbeat timeonabigbassdrum.About theplayers swam thebright sea-creatures, darting between the rock and the coral and leaping andplungingintimewiththemusic.Mermaids,innecklacesofpearl,swamdaintilyround among the fish. And the silver sheen of tail and fin went sparklingeverywhere.

“Oh!”criedJaneandMichaeltogether,foritseemedtheonlythingtosay.“Well, here you are at last!” said a booming voice, as a big Bronze Seal

came flapping towards them. “You’re just in time for the Garden Party.” Heofferedaflippertoeachofthechildrenandwaddledalongbetweenthem.

“DoyouoftengiveGardenParties?”askedMichael.Hewaswishinghetoocouldliveinthesea.

“Oh,dearme,no!”theSealreplied.“OnlywhenHighTidefallson–Isay!Isay!Wereyouinvited?”Hebrokeofftospeaktoalargegreyshape.“Iwastoldnowhalesweretobeadmitted!”

“Getout!Getout!Nowhalesallowed!”cameachorusoffishyvoices.TheWhalegaveaflickofhismonstroustailanddartedbetweentworocks.

Hehadalargepatheticfaceandgreatsadeyeswhichheturnedonthechildren.“It’sthesameeachtime,”hesaid,shakinghishead.“TheysayI’mtoobig,

andIeattoomuch.But,afterall,I’veaverylargeframeandIhavetokeepupmystrength.Can’tyoupersuadethemtomakeanException?Idowant tosee

theDistantRelative!”“Whosedistantrelative?”Janebegan,whentheSealinterruptedloudly.“Now, don’t be pathetic, Whale. Get moving! Remember the last

Unfortunate Incident.He ate up all the Sardine Sandwiches,” the Seal said toJanebehindhisflipper.

“NoAdmission Except on Business. All Riff-Raff keep outside the gates.Offwithyou,now.Swimalong!Nononsense!”

Afishwithasharpswordonhisnosecamebustlingacrossthelawns.“Ineverhaveanyfun!”blubberedtheWhale,astheSealandtheSwordfish

chasedhimaway.Janefeltverysorryforhim.“But,afterall,”shesaid,turningtoMichael,“he

doestakeupalotofspace!”ButMichaelwasnolongerbesideher.Hehadswumawaywithoneofthe

Mermaids,whowasdabbingatherfacewithalittlepinksponge.“Well,skirts, Isuppose.Andblousesandboots,”Janeheardhimsayingas

sheswamtowardsthem.TheMermaidturnedtoJaneandsmiled.“Iwasaskinghimaboutfashionsup

there–” shenoddedupwards through the sea–“andhe says theyarewearingblousesandboots.”Shespokethewordswithalittlelaughasthoughtheycouldnotbetrue.

“Andcoats,”Janeadded.“Andgaloshes,ofcourse!”“Galoshes?”TheMermaidraisedhereyebrows.“Tokeepourfeetdry,”Janeexplained.TheMermaidgave a trill of laughter. “Howvery extraordinary!” she said.

“Downhere,weprefertokeepeverythingwet!”Sheturnedonhertailtoswimaway,whenaclearvoicesuddenlyhailedher.

“Hullo, Anemone!” it cried. And out from behind a bed of lilies a silvershape came leaping. At the sight of the children it stopped in mid-water andstared at them with its great bright eyes. “Why, Bless my Sole!” it cried insurprise.“Whoevercaughtthosecreatures?”

“Nobody,”tinkledtheMermaidgaily,asshegiggledandwhisperedbehindherhand.

“Oh, really?Howverydelightful!” said the fish,witha supercilious smile.And,flickinghistail,heswamuptothechildren.

“I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m the Deep-Sea Salmon,” heexplained,preeninghissilverfins.“Kingof theFish,youknow,andall that.Idaresayyou’veheardofmenowandagain!”Indeed,bythewayheswaggered

and preened, you would have thought there was nothing else worth hearingabout!

“Refreshments!Refreshments!”saidagloomyvoice,asaPike,withtheairofanelderlybutler,camehoveringpastwithatray.

“Helpyourself!”saidtheSalmon,bowingtoJane.“ASardineSandwichoraSaltedShrimp?OrJelly– the fishykind,ofcourse!Andwhataboutyou?”heturned toMichael. “SomeSea-Cowmilk orBarnacleBeer?Or perhaps you’dpreferjustPlainSeaWater!”

“I was given to h’understand, your ’Ighness, that the h’young gentlemanh’wishedforPort!”ThePikestaredbeforehimgloomilyasheheldoutthetraytowardsthem.

“ThenPortheshallhave!”saidtheSalmonimperiouslyashewhiskedadarkreddrinkfromthetray.

Withastartofsurprise,Michaelrememberedhiswish.Hetooktheglassandsippediteagerly.“It’sigzacklylikeRaspberryFizz!”hecried.

“Good!” said the Salmon conceitedly, as though he had made the Porthimself. “Now, how would you like to look at the Catch? They’re probablyreelingthelastonesinandwe’lljusthavetimeifwehurry!”

“Iwonderwhathasbeencaught!”thoughtJane,astheydartedalongbesidethe Salmon. The sea-lanes by nowwere crowdedwith fishwhowere leapingtowardsthelawn.

“Now! Now! Remember whom you’re pushing!” said the Salmon in ahaughtyvoiceashescatteredthemrightandleft.“MyFinsandFlippers!Lookat those children!”He pointed to a group of Sea-Urchinswhowere tumblingnoisilyby.“Schoolmaster!Keepaneyeonyourpupils!ThisOcean’sbecominganabsoluteBear-Garden!”

“Ehwhat?”saidanabsent-mindedfishwhowasfloatingalongwithhisnoseinabook.“Here,WinkleandTwinkle!Andyoutoo,Spiky!Behave–orIshan’tletyougototheParty!”

TheUrchins looked at each other and grinned. Then they solemnly swamalong with the Schoolmaster, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in theirmouths.

“Ah, herewe are!” cried the Salmon gaily, as he led the children round aclusterofcoral.

Onalargeflatrocksatarowoffish,allsolemnlystaringupward.Eachfishheldafishing-rodinhisfinandwatchedhislinewithanearnestgazeasitranupthroughthewater.

“TheAngler-fish,”theSalmonexplained.“Talksoftly!Theydon’tliketobedisturbed.”

“But. . .” whispered Jane, looking very surprised, “the lines are goingupwards!”

TheSalmonstared.“Whereelsewouldtheygo?”hewantedtoknow.“Youcould hardly expect them to go downwards, could you? Bait!” he added,pointingtoseveralwater-proofbagsthatwerefilledwithpastrytarts.

“But–whatdotheycatch?”whisperedMichaelhoarsely.“Oh,humans,mostly,”theSalmonreplied.“Youcangetalmostanyonewith

a Strawberry Tart. They’ve taken a pretty good catch already. Look at themsquirmingandtwitching!”

He flicked his tail at a nearby cave and the children gasped withastonishment. For there, lookingvery cross anddisgruntled, stood a cluster ofhuman beings.Men in dark goggles and summer hatswere shaking their fistsandshoutingandstamping.Threeelderly ladieswerewavingumbrellas,andayoungeroneinrubberbootswaswringingherhandsindespair.

“Well,howdoyoulikeit?”jeeredtheSalmon,peeringinatthecavewithhisgreatbrighteyes.“Imustsayyoulookextremelyfunny!Exactlylikeafishoutofwater!”

Thehumansallgavea furioussnortand turned theirbackson theSalmon.Andatthesamemoment,fromsomewhereabove,awildcryrentthesea.

“Letmego,Isay!Takethishookoutatonce!Howdareyoudosuchathingtome!”

OneoftheAngler-fish,smilingquietly,stooduponhistailandreeledinhisline.

“Takeitout,Itellyou!”camethevoiceagain.And down through the sea, with a rush of bubbles, came a most

extraordinary figure. Its body was clothed in a thick tweed coat; a grey veilfloatedfromthehatonitshead;anduponitsfeetwerethickwoolstockingsandlarge-sizebuttonboots.

Michaelopenedhismouthandstaredandmadeagarglingnoise.“Jane!Doyousee?Ibelieveit’s—”“MissAndrew!”saidJane,whowasgarglingtoo.AndMissAndrewindeeditwas.Downshecame,coughingandchokingand

shouting.And anAngler-fish jerked thehook fromhermouth andpushedhertowardsthecave.

“Outrageous!Preposterous!”shespluttered.“JustasIwascatchingafishfor

mydinner.Howwas I to know that tart had a hookon it!Youvillains!”SheshookherfistattheAnglers.“IshallwritetoTheTimes!Ishallhaveyoufried!”

“Look at her writhing!” crowed the Salmon. “She’s a whopper! She’llwriggleforhoursandhours.”

JanefeltthatMissAndrewdeservedallshegot,butshelookedattheotherstrangersanxiously.Howterrible,shethoughttoherself,ifshehadbeencaught–orMichael.

“WhatwilltheAnglersdowiththem?”sheaskedtheSalmonearnestly.“Oh, throwthembackagain,ofcourse!Weonlycatch themforsport,you

know.They’refartootoughforeating.”“Hey!Comealong,Salmon!”calledtheSealfromthedistance.“Wecan’tlet

thechildrenmisstheGreeting.Andshe’sduetoarriveanyminute.”JanelookedatMichaelinsilentquestion.Whocouldshebe?Animportant

Mermaid?OrperhapstheQueenoftheSea!“KippersandCatfish!I’dforgotten!Comeon,youtwo!”criedtheSalmon.Hewentbeforethem,leapingandcurving,asilvershapeinthesilverwater.

BesidethemaSea-horsetrottedswiftly.Andfishswaminandoutamongthemastheyhurriedtowardsthelawns.

“Hullo,JaneandMichael!”pipedafriendlyvoice.“Rememberme–inyourgoldfish bowl? I’m back at home now. Give my love to your Mother!” TheGoldfishsmiledanddartedawaybeforetheyhadtimetoanswer.

Themusicwaslouderthanevernow.Eachmomentthecrowdonthelawnsgrewthicker,asfishandmermaids,urchinsandsealswentmeetingandgreetingeachother.

“Whatacrush!Onemightaswellbetinned!”saidtheSalmon,threshinghistail.

“Refreshments!Refreshments!”thePikecalledhoarsely.“Yo,ho,ho!Andabottleofrum!”afamiliarvoiceanswered.AndAdmiral

Boomcameplungingpast and seized aglass from the tray.Besidehim swamMrsBoom’sdove-likefigure.And,flounderingintheirwake,cameBinnacle.

“Shiver my timbers! Ahoy there, messmates! For I’m bound for the RioGrande!”bawledtheAdmiral.

ThePike stared after him, shakinghis head. “’Ooligans– that’swhat theyare!”hesaidgloomily.“Ih’reallydon’tknowh’whattheh’Ocean’scomingto!”

“Ah, there you are, children!” theBronze Seal cried, as he shouldered hiswaythroughtheshoutingthrong.“HangontomytailandI’llpullyouthrough.Excuseme!Letmepass,please,fish!TheseareJaneandMichael,theGuestsof

Honour!”Thefishdrewbackandstaredatthem.Politemurmursofwelcomesounded

amidthenoise.TheSealpushedthecrowdasidewithhisflippersanddraggedthechildrenafterhimtotherockofshiningpearl.

“We’rejustintimefortheGreeting!”hepanted.Theycouldhardlyhearhisboomingvoicebecauseofalltheshoutingandlaughter.

“Whatgreeting?”Janewasabouttoask,when,allofasudden,theshoutingceased.Themusic and laughter died away and a deep hush fell upon the sea.Eachfishinthecrowdwasasstillasstone.Theswayingflowersstoodquietinthewater.Eventhetideitselfwasstill.

“He’scoming!”saidtheSealinawhisper,ashenoddedtowardsthecave.“He’scoming!”thewatchingcreaturesechoed.AndJaneandMichaelheld

theirbreathandwatchedwiththewaitingfish.Then,outfromtheblackmysteriouscave,awitheredheademerged.Apair

of ancient sleepy eyes blinked at the dazzle of lights. Two wrinkled flippersstretchedfromthedarknessandadomedblackshellheavedupbehindthem.

ThechildrenclutchedtheBronzeSeal’sflippers.“Who is it?”whispered Jane inhis ear.She thought itmightbea tortoise,

perhaps,orastrangekindofturtle.“TheTerrapin,”theSealrepliedgruffly.“Theoldestandwisestthinginthe

world.”InchbyinchontremblingflipperstheTerrapincrepttothepearlyrock.His

eyesbeneaththehalf-closedlidswereliketwosmallblackstars.Hegazedattheassembledcreatures foramoment.Then liftinghiswithered,ancienthead, theTerrapinsmiled,andspoke.

“Myfriends,”hebeganmajestically,inavoicelikeanold,crackedbell,“Igreetyou,creaturesoftheSea!AndIwishyouahappyHigh-TideParty!”

Hebowedhiswitheredheadtotherockandallthefishbowedhumblyinthewater.

“Thisisagreatoccasionforusall,”theTerrapinwentonquietly.“Iamgladindeedtoseetonightsomanyoldacquaintances.”Hisblack-stargazesweptthecrowdedlawns,asthoughinoneglanceherecognisedeverycreatureinthesea.“Butsurely,”thewrinkledbrowswentup,“thereisoneofusmissing!”

TheSealglancedroundtowardsthetunnelandhisvoiceboomedoutwithacryoftriumph.

“Sheishere,mylord!Shehasjustarrived!”Ashespokeaclamourofvoicesroseandthecreaturesclappedandcheered.

At the samemoment, to thechildren’samazement, a figure thatwas strangelyfamiliar appeared at the edge of the tunnel. There it stood, dressed in its bestbluecoatandthestrawhattrimmedwithdaisies.Then,daintyandgraceful,neatandprim,itswoopedacrosstheshininggardens.ThecheeringrosetoaroarofjoyasitlandedupontheTerrapin’srock.

“Welcome,MaryPoppins!”criedathousandhappyvoices.Shewavedherparrotumbrella ingreeting, then she turnedandcurtsied to

theTerrapin.Foralongmomenthegazedather,asthoughhisancientglitteringeyeswere

looking into her heart. Then he waved his little naked head and gave her afriendlysmile.

“Mydearyoungrelative!”hesaidgraciously.“Thisisindeedapleasure.Itislong since Ihadavisitor from theworldabove thewater.And long too sinceyourSecondThursday fell uponourHighTide.Therefore, in thenameof thecreaturesofthedeep,Ibidyouwelcome,Mary!”And,blinking,heofferedherasmallwitheredflipper.

Mary Poppins took it and bowed respectfully. Then the china-blue eyeslookedinto theblackonesandastrangesmilepassedbetweenthem.Itwasasthoughneitherofthemhadanysecretsfromtheother.

“Andnow,dearMary,”theTerrapincontinued,“sincenobodycomesdowntothedepthsof theseawithout takingsomethingawaywiththem,letmegiveyoualittlepresent.”

He reached his flipper back into the cave and brought out a small brightobject. “Take this to remind you of your visit. Itwillmake a nice brooch, orperhapsahatpin.”And,leaningforward,hepressedastarfishonMaryPoppins’coat.Itshoneandtwinkleduponthebluelikealittleclusterofdiamonds.

“Oh, thank you!” she said, with a cry of delight. “It’s exactly what Iwanted!”

ShesmiledattheTerrapinandthenatthestar,andherglanceslidawaytothechildren.Thesmilefadedinstantly.Shegaveadisgustedsniff.

“If I’ve told you once, Jane, not to gape, I’ve told you a thousand times!Closeyourmouth,Michael!YouarenotaCodfish!”

“Ishouldthinknot!”mutteredtheCodindignantly,fromhisplacebehindthechildren.

“So–theseareJaneandMichael!”saidtheTerrapin,asheturnedhissleepyeyesuponthem.“Iamverygladtomeetyouatlast.Welcome,mychildren,toourHigh-TideParty!”

Hebowedgravelyand,urgedbyMaryPoppins’glare,theybowedinreturn.“Yousee,”hewenton,inhisold,crackedvoice,“IknowwhoJaneandMichaelare.ButIwonder–yes,Iwonderindeed,iftheyknowwhoIam!”

Theyshooktheirheadsandgazedathimspeechlessly.Hemovedhiscarapacealittleandthoughtfullyblinkedforamoment.Then

hespoke.“IamtheTerrapin.Idwellattherootsoftheworld.Underthecities,under

the hills, under the very sea itself, I makemy home. Up frommy dark root,throughthewaters,theearthrosewithitsflowersandforests.Themanandthemountainsprangfromit.Thegreatbeaststoo,andthebirdsoftheair.”

Heceasedforamomentandthecreaturesintheseaabouthimwerequietastheywatchedhim.Thenhewenton:“Iamolderthanallthingsthatare.SilentanddarkandwiseamI,andquietandverypatient.Hereinmycaveallthingshave theirbeginning.Andall things return tome in the end. I canwait. I canwait...”

He folded his lids upon his eyes and nodded his naked wrinkled head asthoughhewere talking tohimself. “Ihavenomore to say,”he said,blinking.“So...”heheldupalittlelordlyflipper.“Bidthemusicplay!”hecommandedtheSeal.“Andletthesea-peoplechoosetheirdance.Whatshallitbethistime,mychildren?”

“Tiddy-um-pom-pom,tiddy-um-pom-pom!”hummedavoicelikeabeeinabottle.

“Ah, yes, my dear Admiral!” the Terrapin nodded. “A very suitablesuggestion.StrikeuptheSailor’sHornpipe!”

Atonceawildcommotionrose.Thebandbrokeintoswiftgaymusicandthestillfishflickeredtheirtailsagain.Voicesandlaughterfilledtheseaandthetidebegantomove.

Tiddy-um-pom-pom!Awaytheywent–fishesandmermaids,urchins,seals.The green lawns bent beneath fins and flippers and the coral glimmeredwithsilvershapes.

“Tiddy-um-pom-pom!”criedAdmiralBoom,ashepulledoninvisibletarryropes.“Tiddy-um-pom-pom!”sangMrsBoom,claspingherhandsandrockingher feet. “Tiddy-um-pom-pom!” sang Binnacle loudly, as he thought of hishappypiratedays.Andthefishdancedinandoutamongthem,withsea-flowershungbehindtheirfins.

TheBronzeSealflappedupanddownonhis tailandtheSalmonswoopedover the lawns likeabird.TheAngler-fishprancedbywith their rodsand the

SwordfishandSchoolmasterdancedtogether.Andeveramongthescalythrong,adarkshapemovedlikeagracefulshadow.Heelandtoe,wentMaryPoppins,asshedanced theHornpipeon the floorof the sea.The fish swung roundher inshiningringsandtheirscalesmadeadappleoflightabouther.

Thechildrenstoodbythepearlyrockandstaredatthecuriousscene.“You find it strange, do you not?” said the Terrapin. “I can see you are

feelingAllatSea!”Hecackledgentlyathisownlittlejoke.Janenodded.“I thought theSeawouldbesodifferent,but really, it’svery

liketheland!”“Andwhynot?”saidtheTerrapin,blinking.“Thelandcameoutofthesea,

remember. Each thing on the earth has a brother here – the lion, the dog, thehare, the elephant. The precious gems have their kind in the sea, so have thestarryconstellations.Theroseremembersthesaltywatersandthemoontheebband flowof the tide.You toomust remember it, Jane andMichael!There aremorethingsinthesea,mychildren,thanevercameoutofit.AndIdon’tmeanfish!”theTerrapinsmiled.“ButIseethatyourtwentytoesaretwitching!Beoffwithyou,now,andjointhedance.”

Jane seizedMichael by the hand. Then, because she remembered he wasveryold,shecurtsiedtotheTerrapinbeforetheydartedaway.

Theyplungedtogetheramongthefishintimetothebeatofthemusic.Oh,howtheirbarefeettwinkledandpranced!Oh,howtheirarmswavedthroughthewater!And theirbodies swayed likestrandsof sea-weedas theywent throughthestepsoftheSailor’sHornpipe.

Tiddy-um-pom-pom! cried the merry music, as Mary Poppins cameswimmingtowardsthem.Shetooktheirhandsandtheydancedtogether,pullingandrockingthroughtheboughsofcoral.Roundtheywent,fasterandeverfaster,spinningliketopsinthespinningwater.Till,dazedwiththedanceanddazzledwith lights, they closed their eyes and leant against her. And her arms wentroundthem,firmly,strongly,assheliftedthemthroughthemovingtide.

Tiddy-um-pom-pom! They swung together and the music grew fainter asthey swung. Tiddy-um-pom-pom!Oh, the circling sea, that rocks us all in itsmightycradle!Tiddy-um-pom-pom!Oh,MaryPoppins,swingmeroundlikeabubble in the falling tide. Swingme round – tiddy-um. . . Swingme round –pom-pom...Swingme...Swingme...Swing...

“Holdme tight,MaryPoppins!”mutteredMichael drowsily, as he felt forhercomfortingarm.

Therewasnoanswer.

“Are you there,Mary Poppins?” he said with a yawn, as he leant on therockingsea.

Stillnoanswer.So,keepinghiseyesclosed,hecalledagainandtheseaseemedtoechohis

voice.“MaryPoppins,Iwantyou!MaryPoppins,whereareyou?”“WhereIalwaysamatthishourinthemorning!”sherepliedwithanangry

snap.“Oh,whatabeautifuldance!”hesaidsleepily.Andheputouthishand to

drawhertohim.It touched nothing. All that his searching fingers found was a warm, soft

bulkinesssuspiciouslylikeapillow.“I’llthankyoutodanceyourselfoutofbed!Itisnearlytimeforbreakfast!”Hervoicehad the rumbleofdistant thunder.AndMichaelopenedhiseyes

withastart.Goodgracious!Wherewashe?SurelyitcouldnotbetheNursery!Yetthere

wasOldDobbinstandingstillinthecorner;andMaryPoppins’neatcampbedand the toys and the books and his slippers. All the old familiar things werethere,butthelastthingMichaelwantedjustnowwasanoldfamiliarthing.

“Butwhere’stheseagone?”hesaidcrossly.“Iwanttobebackinthesea!”Her face popped round the bathroom door and he knew at once she was

furious.“TheseaisatBrightonwhereitalwaysis!”shesaid,withfiercedistinctness.

“Now,spit-spotandupyouget.AndNotAnotherWord!”“ButIwasin itamomentago!Andsowereyou,MaryPoppins.Wewere

dancingaroundamongthefishanddoingtheSailor’sHornpipe!”“Humph!”shesaid,giving thebath-matashake.“IhopeIhavesomething

bettertodothantogooutdancingwithsailors!”Hequailedbeneathherdarkenedglarebutheknewhewouldhavetogoon.“Well,whataboutallthefish?”hedemanded.“AndtheSealandtheSalmon

andthatfunnyoldTurtle?Weweredowntherewiththem,MaryPoppins,rightonthefloorofthesea!”

“Downin thesea?Witha funnyoldSalmon?Well,youcertainlyhave thefishiest dreams! I suppose you had too many buns for Supper! Sailors andTurtles, indeed!Whatnext?”Heraprongaveanangrycrackleassheflouncedaway,muttering.

Hegazedatherretreatingbackandfrownedandshookhishead.Hedarednotsayanymore,heknew,butshecouldn’tstophimwondering.

Sohewonderedandwonderedashegotoutofbedandpokedhistoesintohisslippers.AndashewonderedhiseyesmetJane’sasshepeepedfromundertheblankets.

Shehadheardeverywordoftheargumentand,whileshehadlistened,shehad thought her own thoughts and her eyes had noticed something. Now shesmiledasecretsmileatMichaelandnoddedherheadwisely.

“It was fishy,” she said. “But it wasn’t a dream.”And she pointed to themantelpieceassheslippedoutofbed.

He lookedup.Hegavea startof surprise.Thena smileof triumphspreadoverhisface.

For there, beside theCowrie Shell,were the twoSandDollars and a littlePinkStarfish.

“YourememberwhattheTerrapinsaid?Everyonewhogoesdowntotheseabringssomethingback,”Janeremindedhim.

Michael nodded as he gazed at the SandDollars.And at thatmoment thedoorburstopenandMaryPoppinsbouncedback.ShepluckedtheStarfishfromthemantelpieceandpinned it tohercollar. It twinkledbrightlyas sheprinkedandprankedinfrontoftheNurserymirror.

MichaelturnedtoJanewithasmotheredgiggle.“Tiddy-um-pom-pom!”hehummedunderhisbreath.“Tiddy-um-pom-pom!”Janesaidinawhisper.And,daringly,behindMaryPoppins’stiffstraightback, theydancedafew

stepsoftheHornpipe.They never noticed that her bright blue eyes were watching them in the

mirrorandcalmlyexchangingwithherownreflectionaverysuperiorsmile...

ChapterSeven

HAPPYEVERAFTER

ITWASTHElastdayoftheOldYear.UpstairsintheNursery,JaneandMichaelandtheTwinsweregoingthrough

the magical performance known as Undressing. When Mary Poppins set towork,itwasalmostasgoodaswatchingaConjuror!

Shemovedalongtherowofchildrenandtheirclothesseemedtofallawayather touch. Over John’s head she pulled the sweater as quickly as though shewere skinning a rabbit. Jane’s frock dropped off at a single touch; Barbara’ssocksliterallyranoffhertoes.AsforMichael,healwaysfeltthatMaryPoppinsundressedhimsimplybygivinghimoneofherlooks.

“Now,spit-spotintobed!”sheordered.And with the words went such a glare that they fled squealing in all

directionsanddartedunderthebedclothes.Shemoved about theNursery, foldingup the scattered clothes and tidying

thetoys.Thechildrenlaycosilyintheirbeds,watchingthecracklingwingofherapron as itwhisked about the room.Her eyeswere blue and her cheekswerepinkandhernoseturnedupwithaperkyairlikethenoseofaDutchDoll.Tolook at her, they thought to themselves, you would never imagine she wasanythingbutaperfectlyordinaryperson.But,asyouknowandIknow,theyhadeveryreasontobelievethatAppearancesareDeceptive.

SuddenlyMichaelhadanideathatseemedtohimveryimportant.“Isay!”hesaid,sittingupinbed.“WhenigzacklydoestheOldYearend?”“Tonight,”saidMaryPoppinsshortly.“Atthefirststrokeoftwelve.”“Andwhendoesitbegin?”hewenton.“Whendoeswhatbegin?”shesnapped.“TheNewYear,”answeredMichaelpatiently.“Onthelaststrokeoftwelve,”shereplied,givingashortsharpsniff.“Oh?Thenwhathappensinbetween?”hedemanded.“Between what? Can’t you speak properly,Michael? Do you think I’m a

MindReader?”

HewantedtosayYes,forthatwasexactlywhathedidthink.Butheknewhewouldneverdare.

“Betweenthefirstandthelaststroke,”heexplainedhurriedly.MaryPoppinsturnedandglaredathim.“NevertroubleTroubletillTroubletroublesyou!”sheadvisedpriggishly.“ButI’mnottroublingTrouble,MaryPoppins.Iwasonlywantingtoknow

—”hebrokeoffquickly,forMaryPoppins’facehadaVeryOminouslook.“ThenWantmustbeyourMaster.Now!IfIhaveOneMoreWordfromyou

—”Atthesoundofthatphrasehedivedundertheblankets.Forheknewverywellwhatitmeant.

MaryPoppinsgaveanothersniffandmovedalongtherowofbeds,tuckingthemallin.

“I’lltakethat,thankyou!”sheremarked,asshepluckedtheBlueDuckfromJohn’sarms.

“Oh,no!”criedJohn.“Pleasegivehimtome!”“IwantmyMonkey!”Barbarawailed,asMaryPoppinsuncurledherfingers

from themoth-eaten body of Pinnie. Pinniewas an old ragMonkeywho hadbelongedfirst toMrsBankswhenshewasa littlegirl,and then toeachof thechildreninturn.

ButMaryPoppinstooknonotice.ShehurriedontoJane’sbedandAlfred,the grey-flannel Elephant, was plucked from under the blankets. Jane sat upquickly.

“But why are you taking the toys?” she demanded. “Can’t we sleep withthemaswealwaysdo?”

MaryPoppins’onlyanswerwasanicyglareflungoverhershoulderasshestoopedtoMichael’sbed.

“The Pig, please!” she commanded sternly. She put out her hand for thesmall,giltcardboardPigthatAuntFlossiehadgivenhimforChristmas.

AtfirstthePighadbeenfilledwithchocolatesbutnowhewasquiteempty.Alargeholeyawnedinthebackofhisbodyat theplacewherethetailshouldhave been.OnChristmasDayMichael hadwrenched it off to see how itwasstuckon.SincethenithadlainonthemantelpieceandthePighadgonewithoutit.

MichaelclutchedtheGoldenPiginhisarms.“No,MaryPoppins!”hesaidbravely.“He’smyPig!AndIwanthim!”“What did I say?” askedMary Poppins. And her look was so awful that

Michaelloosenedhisholdatonceandlethertakeitfromhim.

“Butwhatareyougoingtodowiththem?”heaskedcuriously.For Mary Poppins was arranging the animals in a row on top of the toy

cupboard.“AsknoQuestionsandyou’llbeToldnoLies,”sheretortedpriggishly.Her

aprongaveanothercrackleasshecrossedtheroomtothebookcase.Theywatchedhertakedownthreewell-knownbooks:RobinsonCrusoe,The

GreenFairyBook andMotherGooseNurseryRhymes.Thensheopened themandlaidthemdowninfrontofthefouranimals.

Doesshemeantheanimalstoreadthebooks?Janewonderedtoherself.“Andnow,”saidMaryPoppinsprimly,asshemovedtowardsthedoor,“turn

over,allofyou–ifyouplease–andgotosleepatonce!”Michaelsatboltupright.“ButIwanttostayawake,MaryPoppins,andwatchtheNewYear!”“A Watched Pot Never Boils!” she reminded him. “Lie down, please,

Michael,inthatbed–anddon’tsayAnotherWord!”Then,sniffing loudly,shesnappedout the light,andshut theNurserydoor

behindherwithanangrylittleclick.“Iwillwatchallthesame,”saidMichael,assoonasshehadgone.“SowillI,”agreedJanequickly,withaverydeterminedair.The Twins said nothing. They were fast asleep. But it was at least ten

minutes beforeMichael’s head fell sideways on his pillow. And it was quitefifteenbeforeJane’seyelashesfluttereddownonhercheeks.

Thefoureiderdownsroseandfellwiththechildren’ssteadybreathing.ForalongtimenothingstirredthesilenceoftheNursery.

Ding-dong!Ding-dong!Ding-dong!Ding-dong!Suddenly,throughthesilentnight,apealofbellsrangout.Ding-dong!Ring-ting!Ding-dong!Fromeverytowerandsteepletheswingingchimeswentforth.Thebellsof

thecityechoedandtossedandfloatedacrosstheParktotheLane.FromNorthandSouthandEastandWesttheypealedandclangedandchimed.Peopleleantover theirwindow-sills and rattled their dinner-bells.And thosewho hadn’t adinner-bellplayedtunesontheirFrontdoorknockers.

Along the Lane came the Ice CreamMan, twanging his bicycle bell withgusto. In the garden of Admiral Boom, at the corner, a ship’s bell clangedthroughthefrostyair.AndMissLark,intheNextDoordrawing-room,tinkledherlittlebreakfastbell,whilethetwodogsbarkedandhowled.

Clang-clang!Tinkle-tinkle!Ding-dong!Bow-wow!Everybodyintheworldwasringingabell.Theechoesclashedandchimed

andrhymedinthechillymidnightdark.Thenallofasudden,therewassilence.Andoutofthestillness,solemnand

deep,thesoundofagreatclockstriking.“Boom!”saidBigBen.ItwasthefirststrokeofMidnight.At thatmoment something stirred in theNursery.Thencame the soundof

clatteringhooves.Jane andMichaelwerewide awake in an instant.Theyboth sat upwith a

start.“Goodness!”saidMichael.“Gracious!”saidJane.Forbeforethemlayanastoundingsight.ThereonthefloorstoodtheGolden

Pig,prancingaboutonhisgoldenhindtrottersandlookingveryimportant.Plump!Withaheavymuffledthud,AlfredtheElephantlandedbesidehim.

And,leapinglightlyfromthetopofthecupboard,camePinnietheMonkeyandtheoldBlueDuck.

Then,tothechildren’sastonishment,theGoldenPigspoke.“Willsomebodykindlyputonmytail?”heenquiredinahigh,shrillvoice.Michaelflunghimselfoutofbedandrushedtothemantelpiece.“That’s better,” remarked the Pig, with a smile. “I’ve been most

uncomfortableeversinceChristmas.APigwithoutatail,youknow,isalmostasbadasatailwithoutaPig.Andnow,”hewenton,asheglancedroundtheroom,“areweallready?Then,hurry,please!”

Ashespokehepranceddaintilytothedoor,followedbyAlfred,PinnieandtheDuck.

“Whereareyougoing?”Janecried,staring.“You’llsoonsee,”answeredthePig.“Comeon!”Inaflashtheyhadflungongownsandslippersandwerefollowingthefour

toysdownthestairsandoutthroughtheirownFrontDoor.“Thisway!”saidthePig,asheprancedacrossCherryTreeLaneandthrough

theGatesofthePark.PinnieandtheBlueDuckdancedbesidehim,wildlysquealingandquacking.

AndafterthemlumberedAlfredtheElephantwithJaneandMichaelathisgrey-flannelheels.

Above the treeshunga roundwhitemoon. Itsgleamingsilver rayspoured

down on thewide lawns of the Park.And there on the grasswas a throng offigures,movingbackwardsandforwardsintheshimmeringlight.

Alfredflunguphisflanneltrunkandeagerlysniffedtheair.“Ha!”heremarkeddelightedly.“We’resafelyinside,Pig,don’tyouthink?”“Insidewhat?”askedMichaelcuriously.“TheCrack,”saidAlfred,flappinghisears.Thechildrenstaredateachother.WhatonearthcouldAlfredmean?But the Pig was beckoning them towards him with a wave of his golden

trotter;andbrightformsflickeredbehindandaroundthemastheyhurriedtothelawn.

“Excuse us, please!” said three small shapes as they brushed against thechildren.

“TheThreeBlindMice,”explainedAlfred,smiling.“They’realwaysundereveryone’sfeet!”

“Are they running away from the Farmer’s Wife?” cried Michael, verysurprisedandexcited.

“Oh,dear,no!Nottonight,”saidAlfred.“They’rehurryingtomeether.TheThreeBlindMiceandtheFarmer’sWifeareallinsidetheCrack!”

“Hullo,Alfred–yougotinsafely!”“Why,it’sdearoldPinnie!”“What,theBlueDucktoo?”“Hooray,hooray!Here’stheGoldenPig!”Therewerecriesofwelcomeandshoutsofjoyaseveryonegreetedeveryone

else.ATinSoldierwhowasmarchingpast saluted thePig, andhewavedhistrotter.PinnieshookhandswithapairofbirdswhomhehailedasCockRobinandJennyWren.AndtheBlueDuckquackedatanEasterChickenhalf-inandhalf-out of its egg. As for Alfred, he flung up his trunk in all directions andloudlytrumpetedgreetings.

“Aren’tyoucold,mydear?It’schillytonight!”AgruffvoicespokebehindJane’sshoulder.

Sheturnedtofindabeardedmandressedinthestrangestgarments.Hehadgoatskintrousers,abeavercapandalargeumbrellaofrabbit-tails.Behindhim,withanarmfuloffurs,stoodablack,half-nakedfigure.

“Friday,”saidthebeardedman,“obligemebygivingthisladyacoat.”“Suttinly,Massa!Ahaims toplease!”And thegreatblackcreature,witha

gracefulmovement,flungasealskincloakaboutJane’sshoulders.Shestared.

“Soyou’re—”shebegan,andsmiledathimshyly.“OfcourseIam,”saidthetallman,bowing.“PleasecallmeRobinson!All

myfriendsdo.MrCrusoesoundssoformal.”“ButIthoughtyouwereinabook!”saidJane.“Iam,”saidRobinsonCrusoe,smiling.“But tonightsomeonekindly left it

open.AndsoIescaped,yousee!”Janethoughtofthebooksontopofthetoycupboard.Sherememberedhow

MaryPoppinshadopenedthembeforesheputoutthelight.“Doesithappenoften?”shequestionedeagerly.“Alas,no!Onlyattheendoftheyear.TheCrack’souroneandonlychance.

But,excuseme!Imustspeakto—”RobinsonCrusoe turned to greet a curious egg-shaped littlemanwhowas

hurryingpaston spindly legs.Hispointedheadwasasbaldasaneggandhisneckwasmuffledinawoollenscarf.Hestaredinquisitivelyat thechildren,ashegreetedRobinsonCrusoe.

“GoodGracious!”criedMichaelinsurprise.“You’reigzacklylikeHumpty-Dumpty!”

“Like?”shrilledthelittlemanhaughtily.“Howcananyonebelikehimself,I’dliketoknow?I’veheardofpeoplebeingunlike themselves–whenthey’vebeennaughtyoreatentoomuch–butneverlike.Don’tbesosilly!”

“But – you’re quite whole!” said Michael, staring. “I thought Humpty-Dumptycouldn’tbemended.”

“WhosaidIcouldn’t?”criedthelittlemanangrily.“Well,Ijustthought–er–thatalltheKing’shorsesand–er–alltheKing’s

men—”Michaelbegantostammer.“Pooh–horses!Whatdotheyknowaboutit?AndasfortheKing’smen–

stupidcreatures!–theyonlyknowabouthorses!Andbecausetheycouldn’tputmetogether,itdoesn’tsaynooneelsecould,doesit?”

Notwishingtocontradicthim,JaneandMichaelshooktheirheads.“Asamatteroffact,”Humpty-Dumptywenton,“theKinghimselfmended

me–didn’tyou–heh?”Heshriekedthelastwordsataroundfatmanwhowasholdingacrownon

hisheadwithonehandandcarryingapie-dishintheother.“He’s just like the King in Mary Poppins’ story! He must be Old King

Cole!”saidJane.“Didn’t I what?” the King enquired, carefully balancing his pie and his

crown.

“Stickmetogether!”shriekedHumpty-Dumpty.“Of course I did. Just for tonight, you know.With honey. In theQueen’s

parlour.Butyoureallymustn’tbothermenow.MyFour-and-TwentyBlackbirdsaregoingtosingandIhavetoopenthePie.”

“There, what did I tell you?” screamed Humpty-Dumpty. “How dare yousuggestI’maBrokenEgg!”

Heturnedhisbackuponthemrudelyandhisbigcrackedheadshonewhiteinthemoonlight.

“Don’targuewithhim!It’snogood,”saidAlfred.“He’salwaysso touchyabout that fall. Here! Step on your own toes! Lookwho you’re pushin’!”HeturnedandmadeasweepwithhistrunkandacrownedLionlightlyleaptaside.

“Sorry!” exclaimed the Lion politely. “It’s such a frightful crush tonight.Haveyouseen theUnicorn,by theway?Ah, therehe is!Hi!Waitaminute!”And, growling softly in his throat, he pounced upon a silvery figure thatwasdaintilytrottingby.

“Oh, stop him! Stop him!” Jane cried anxiously. “He’s going to beat theUnicornallroundtheTown!”

“Nottonight,”saidAlfredreassuringly.“Youjustwatch!”Jane andMichael stared with astonishment as they saw the Lion bowing.

ThenhetookthegoldencrownfromhisheadandofferedittotheUnicorn.“It’s your turn to wear it,” the Lion said courteously. Then the two

exchangedatenderembraceanddancedoffintothecrowd.“Children behaving nicely tonight?” they heard the Unicorn enquire of a

witheredoldwomanwhowasdancingpast.ShewaspullingalonganenormousShoe,fulloflaughingboysandgirls.

“Oh,sonicely!”criedtheOldWomangaily.“Ihaven’tusedmywhiponce!GeorgiePorgieissuchahelpwiththegirls.Theyinsistonbeingkissedtonight.And as for the boys, they’re just sugar and spice. Look at Red Riding HoodhuggingthatWolf!She’stryingtoteachhimtobegforsupper.Sitdown,please,Muffet.Andholdontight.”

ShewavedherwhipatafairlittlegirlwhosatatthebackoftheShoe.Shewas deep in conversation with a large black Spider; and as the Shoe wentrumblingpast,shereachedoutherhandandpattedhimgently.

“She’snotevenrunningaway!”criedMichael.“Whyisn’tshefrightened?”hewantedtoknow.

“BecauseoftheCrack,”saidAlfredagain,ashehurriedthembeforehim.JaneandMichaelcouldn’thelpstaringatRedRidingHoodandMissMuffet.

FancynotbeingafraidoftheWolfandthatblackenormousSpider!Then a filmy whiteness brushed them lightly and they turned to find a

shiningshapeyawningbehinditshand.“Still sleepy, Beauty?” trumped Alfred, as he slipped his trunk round her

waist.Shepattedthetrunkandleantagainsthim.“Iwasdeepinadream,”shemurmuredsoftly.“ButtheFirstStroke,luckily,

wokemeup!”Asshesaidthat,Michael’scuriositycouldcontainitselfnolonger.“But I don’t understand!” he burst out loudly. “Everything’s upside down

tonight!Whydoesn’t theSpider frightenMissMuffet?And theLion beat theUnicorn?”

“Alfred has told you,” said Sleeping Beauty. “Because we are all in theCrack.”

“WhatCrack?”demandedMichael.“TheCrackbetween theOldYearand theNew.TheOldYeardieson the

FirstStrokeofMidnightand theNewYear isbornon theLastStroke.Andinbetween–whiletheothertenstrokesaresounding–thereliesthesecretCrack.”

“Yes?”saidJanebreathlessly,forshewantedtoknowmore.TheSleepingBeautygaveacharmingyawnandsmileduponthechildren.“AndinsidetheCrackallthingsareatone.Theeternaloppositesmeetand

kiss.Thewolfand the lamb liedown together, thedoveand the serpent shareonenest.The stars benddown and touch the earth and the young and the oldforgiveeachother.Nightanddaymeethere,sodothepoles.TheEastleansovertowards theWest and the circle is complete. This is the time and place, mydarlings–theonlytimeandtheonlyplace–whereeverybodyliveshappilyeverafter.Look!”

TheSleepingBeautywavedherhand.JaneandMichael,glancingpastit,sawthreeBearshoppingclumsilyrounda

littlebright-hairedgirl.“Goldilocks,”explainedtheSleepingBeauty.“Assafeandsoundasyouare.

Oh,goodevening,Punch!How’sthebaby,Judy?”Shewaved toapairof long-nosedpuppetswhowerestrollingarm inarm.

“They’realovingcoupletonight,yousee,becausethey’reinsidetheCrack.Oh,look!”

Thistimeshepointedtoatoweringfigure.Hisgreatfeetstampeduponthelawnandhisheadwasashighasthetallesttree.Ahugeclubwasbalancedon

oneshoulder;andperchedontheothersatalaughingboywhowastweakingthebigman’sear.

“That’s Jack-the-Giant-Killer with his Giant. The two are bosom friendstonight.“TheSleepingBeautyglancedup,smiling.“Andhere,atlast,cometheWitches!”

Therewasawhirrabovethechildren’sheadsasagroupofbeady-eyedoldwomenswoopedthroughtheaironbroomsticks.Acryofwelcomerosetogreetthemastheyplungedintothecrowd.

Everyonerushedtoshaketheirhandsandtheoldwomencackledwithwitch-likelaughter.

“Nobody’s frightened of them tonight. They’re happy ever after!” TheSleepingBeauty’sdrowsyvoicewaslikealullaby.Shestretchedherarmsaboutthechildrenandthethreestoodwatchingthethrongingfigures.Thelawnsbentunder the trippingfeetand theairwasdizzywithnoddingheadsasKingsandPrincesses, Heroes andWitches saluted each other in the Crack between theyears.

“Gangway!Gangway!Letmepass!”criedahigh,clearvoice.Andfarawayat theendof the lawn theysawtheGoldenPig.Heplunged

throughthecrowdonhisstiffhindlegs,dividingittoleftandrightwithawaveofhisgoldentrotter.

“Makeway!Makeway!”heshoutedimportantly.Andthecrowdpartedanddrewasidesothatitformedadoublerowofbowing,curtseyingcreatures.

Fornowthereappeared,at theheelsof thePig,afigure thatwascuriouslyfamiliar.Ahatwithabowwasupon itsheadand its coat shonebrightlywithsilverbuttons.ItseyeswereasblueasWillow-PatternanditsnoseturnedupinanairywaylikethenoseofaDutchDoll.

Lightly she tripped along the path, with the Golden Pig prancing neatlybeforeher.Andasshecameacryofgreeting roseup fromevery throat.Hatsandcapsandcrownsandcoronetsweretossedintotheair.Andthemoonitselfseemedtoshinemorebrightlyasshewalkedbeneathitsrays.

“Butwhy isshe here?”demanded Jane, as shewatched that shapecomingdowntheclearing.“MaryPoppinsisnotafairy-tale.”

“She’s even better!” said Alfred loyally. “She’s a fairy-tale come true.Besides,”herumbled,“she’stheGuestoftheEvening!Itwasshewholeftthebooksopen.”

Amidthehappyshoutsofwelcome,MaryPoppinsbowedtorightandleft.Thenshemarchedtothecentreofthelawnand,openingherblackhandbag,she

tookoutaconcertina.“Choose your partners!” cried the Golden Pig, as he drew a flute from a

pocketinhisskinandputittohismouth.Atthatcommand,everycreaturethereturnedswiftlytohisneighbour.Then

the flute broke into a swinging tune; the concertina and the Four-and-TwentyBlackbirdstookupthegayrefrain;andawhiteCatplayedthechorussweetlyonahey-diddleFiddle.

“Can it be my cat?” Michael wondered, as he looked for the pattern offlowers and leaves.He had no time to decide, however, for his attentionwasattractedbyAlfred.

The grey-flannel Elephant lumbered past, uttering happy jungle cries andusinghistrunkasatrumpet.

“MayIhavethepleasure,mydearyoungLady?”HebowedtotheSleepingBeauty.Shegavehimherhandandtheydancedaway,Alfredtakingcarenottotread on her toes and the Sleeping Beauty yawning daintily and looking verydreamy.

Everyoneseemedtobechoosingapartnerorfindingafriendinthethrong.“Kissme!Kissme!”criedagroupofgirls,astheytwinedtheirarmsrounda

largefatschoolboy.“Outofmyway,youngGeorgie-Porgie!”criedtheFarmer’sWife,dancing

withThreeBlindMice.Andthefatboyplungedoffintothecrowdwiththegirlsalllaughingabout

him.“Oneandtwoandhopandturn–that’sthewayitgoes.”RedRidingHood,

holdingtheWolfbythepaw,wasteachinghimhowtodance.TheWolf,lookingveryhumbleandshy,waswatchinghisfeetasshecounted.

JaneandMichaelcouldhardlybelievetheireyes.Butbeforetheyhadtimetothinkaboutit,afriendlyvoicehailedthem.

“Do you dance?” saidRobinsonCrusoe gaily, as he took Jane’s hand andwhirledheraway.Sheswungaround,pressed tohisgoatskincoat, asMichaelprancedoffinthearmsofManFriday.

“Who is that?” asked Jane as they danced along. For there was the BlueDuckwaddlingpast,claspedtothebosomofalargegreybird.

“That’sGooseyGander!”saidRobinsonCrusoe.“AndthereisPinnie–withCinderella.”

She glanced round quickly. And there, sure enough, was old rag Pinnie,lookingveryimportantandproudofhimselfashedancedwithabeautifulLady.

Everybodyhadapartner.Noonewas lonelyor leftout.All the fairy-talesever toldweregathered togetheron thatsquareofgrass,embracingeachotherwithjoy.

“Are you happy, Jane?” Michael called to her, as he and Friday wentgallopingpast.

“Foreverandever!”sheansweredsmiling,andforthatmomentknewitwastrue.

Themusicwasswifternowandwilder.Ittossedamongthetossingtrees,itechoedabove thestrokesof theclock.MaryPoppins, thePigand theFiddlingCatwerebendingandswayingas theyplayed.AgainandagaintheBlackbirdssangandnever seemed togrowweary.The fairy-tale figures swungabout thechildren; and in their ears the fairy-tale voices were sweetly singing andlaughing.

“Happyeverafter!”cametheechoingcry,fromeveryoneinthePark.“Whatwasthat?”criedJanetoherpartner.Forbehindtheshoutingandthe

music,shehadheardtheboomoftheclock.“Time’snearlyup!”saidRobinsonCrusoe.“ThatmusthavebeentheSixth

Sense!”Theypausedforamomentintheirdanceandlistenedtotheclock.Seven! Above the sound rose the fairy-tale music, rocking them all in its

goldennet.Eight!saidthesteady,distantboom.Andthedancingfeetseemedtomove

moreswiftly.Nine!The trees themselvesweredancingnow,bending theirboughs to the

fairytune.Ten!O,Lion andUnicorn,Wolf andLamb!Friend andEnemy!Dark and

Light!Eleven!O, fleetingmoment!O, timeon thewing!How short is the space

betweentheyears!Letusbehappy–happyeverafter!Twelve!Solemnanddeepthelaststrokestruck.“Twelve!” The cry went up from every throat and the ring immediately

brokeandscattered.Brightshapesbrushedswiftlypastthechildren.JackandhisGiant,PunchandJudy.AwayspedtheSpiderwithMissMuffet,andHumpty-Dumpty on his spindly legs. The Lion, the Unicorn, Goldilocks, Red RidingHoodandThreeBlindMice–theystreamedawayacrossthegrassandseemedtomeltinthemoonshine.

CinderellaandtheWitchesvanished.TheSleepingBeautyandtheCatwiththeFiddlefled,andwerelostinlight.AndJaneandMichael,lookingroundfortheir partners, found that RobinsonCrusoe and hisMan Friday had dissolvedintotheair.

The fairy-talemusic died away, itwas lost in the lordly peal of bells. Fornowfromeverytowerandsteeplethechimesrangout,triumphant.BigBen,StPaul’s,StBride’s,OldBailey,Southwark,StMartin’s.Westminster,Bow...

Butonebellsoundedabovetheothers,merryandclearanddistinct.“Ting-aling-aling-aling!Itwasdifferent,somehow,fromtheNewYearbells,

familiarandfriendlyandnearerhome.Ting-aling-aling! it cried. And mixed with its echoes was a well-known

voice.“Who wants crumpets?” the voice said loudly, demanding an immediate

answer.Jane and Michael opened their eyes. They sat up and stared about them.

They were in their beds, under the eiderdowns, and John and Barbara wereasleep beside them. The fire glowed gaily in the grate. The morning lightstreamedthroughtheNurserywindow.AndfromsomewheredownbelowintheLanecamethesoundofthetinklingbell.

“I said ‘Who wants crumpets?’ Didn’t you hearme? The CrumpetMan’sdownintheLane.”

Therewasnomistakingit.ThevoicewasthevoiceofMaryPoppins,anditsoundedveryimpatient.

“Ido!”saidMichaelhurriedly.“Ido!”echoedJane.MaryPoppinssniffed.“Thenwhynotsaysoatonce!”shesaidsnappily.She

crossedtothewindowandwavedherhandtosummontheCrumpetMan.Downstairs the front gate openedquicklywith its usual noisy squeak.The

CrumpetManranupthepathandknockedattheBackDoor.HewassureofanorderfromNumberSeventeen,foralltheBanksfamilywerepartialtocrumpets.

MaryPoppinsturnedawayfromthewindowandputalogonthefire.Michaelgazedathersleepilyforamoment.Thenherubbedhiseyes,and,

withastart,hewokeupcompletely.“Isay!”heshouted.“IwantmyPig!Whereisit,MaryPoppins?”“Yes!” joined in Jane. “And IwantAlfred!Andwhere are theBlueDuck

andPinnie?”

“Onthetopofthecupboard.Whereelsewouldtheybe?”saidMaryPoppinscrossly.

Theyglancedup.Therewerethefourtoysstandinginarow,exactlyasshehadleftthem.AndinfrontofthemlayRobinsonCrusoe,TheGreenFairyBookandMotherGooseNurseryRhymes.Butthebookswerenolongeropenastheyhadbeenlastnight.Theywerepiledupononeanotherneatlyandallwerefirmlyclosed.

“But–howdidtheygetbackfromthePark?”saidMichael,verysurprised.“AndwhereisthePig’sflute?”Janeexclaimed.“Andyourconcertina!”ItwasnowMaryPoppins’turntostare.“My–what?”sheenquired,withanominouslook.“Yourconcertina,MaryPoppins!YouplayeditlastnightinthePark!”MaryPoppinsturnedfromthefireandcametowardsJane,glaring.“I’dlikeyoutorepeatthat,please!”Hervoicewasquiet,butdreadful.“DidI

understandyou to say, JaneBanks, that Iwas in thePark lastnight,playingamusicalinstrument?Me?”

“Butyouwere!”protestedMichaelbravely.“Wewereallthere.YouandtheToysandJaneandI.WeweredancingwiththeFairy-talesinsidetheCrack!”

MaryPoppinsstaredatthemasthoughherearshadbetrayedher.ThelookonherfacewasSimplyFrightful.

“Fairy-tales inside the Crack? Humph! You’ll have Fairy-tales inside theBath-room, if I hear One More Word. And the door locked, I promise you!Crack,indeed!Cracked,morelikely!”

Andturningawaydisgustedly,sheopenedthedoorwithanangryflingandhurrieddownthestairs.

Michaelwassilentforaminute,thinkingandremembering.“It’s funny,” he said presently. “I thought it was true. But I must have

dreamedit.”Janedidnotanswer.Shehadsuddenlydartedoutofbedandwasputtingachairagainst the toy

cupboard. She climbed up quickly and seized the animals and ran across toMichael.

“Feeltheirfeet!”shewhisperedexcitedly.He ran his hand over the Pig’s trotters; he felt the grey-flannel hooves of

Alfred,theDuck’swebbedfeetandPinnie’spaws.“They’rewet!”hesaid,withastonishment.Janenodded.

“Andlook!”shecried,snatchingtheirslippersfromunderthebedsandMaryPoppins’shoesfromtheboot-box.

Theslippersweredrenchedandstainedwithdew;andonthesolesofMaryPoppins’ shoes were wet little broken blades of grass, the sort of thing youwouldexpecttofindonshoesthathavedancedatnightinthePark.

MichaellookedupatJaneandlaughed.“Itwasn’tadream,then!”hesaidhappily.Janeshookherhead,smiling.TheysattogetheronMichael’sbed,noddingknowinglyateachother,saying

insilencethesecretthingsthatcouldnotbeputintowords.PresentlyMaryPoppinscameinwiththecrumpetsinherhand.Theylookedatherovertheshoesandslippers.Shelookedatthemovertheplateofcrumpets.Along,longlookofunderstandingpassedbetweenthethreeofthem.They

knewthatsheknewthattheyknew.“IstodaytheNewYear,MaryPoppins?”askedMichael.“Yes,”shesaidcalmly,assheputtheplatedownonthetable.Michaellookedathersolemnly.HewasthinkingabouttheCrack.“Shallwetoo,MaryPoppins?”heasked,blurtingoutthequestion.“Shallyoutoo,what?”sheenquiredwithasniff.“Livehappilyeverafterwards?”hesaideagerly.Asmile,halfsad,halftender,playedfaintlyroundhermouth.“Perhaps,”shesaidthoughtfully.“Italldepends.”“Whaton,MaryPoppins?”“Onyou,”shesaidquietly,asshecarriedthecrumpetstothefire...

ChapterEight

THEOTHERDOOR

“ITWASARound-the-Mulberry-Bushsortofmorning,coldandratherfrosty.ThepalegreydaylightcreptthroughtheCherryTreesandlappedlikewateroverthehouses.Alittlewindmoanedthroughthegardens.ItdartedacrosstheParkwithawhistleandwhinedalongtheLane.

“Brrrrrr!”saidNumberSeventeen.“Whatcanthatwretchedwindbedoing–howling and fretting around like a ghost! Hi! Stop that, can’t you? You’remakingmeshiver!”

“Whe-ew!Whe-ew!WhatshallIdo?”criedthewind,takingnonotice.NumberSeventeengaveitselfalittleshake.“Fanciful–that’swhatIam!”it

saidsensibly.“Imusthaveslepttoolong.What’sthat?”Arakingnoisecamefrominsidethehouse.RobertsonAywasremovingthe

ashesandlayingfreshwoodinthefireplaces.“Ah,that’swhatIneed!”saidNumberSeventeen,asMaryPoppinslitafire

in the Nursery. “Something to warm my chilly old bones. There goes thatmournfulwindagain!Iwishitwouldhowlsomewhereelse!”

“Whe-ee!Whe-ee!When will it be?” sobbed the wind among the CherryTrees.

The Nursery fire sprang up with a crackle. Behind their bars the brightflamesdancedandshoneonthewindow-pane.RobertsonAysloucheddowntothe broom cupboard to take a rest from his morning labours. Mary Poppinsbustledabout,asusual,airingtheclothesandpreparingthebreakfast.

Janehadwakenedbeforeanyoneelse,forthehowlofthewindhaddisturbedher.Andnowshe saton thewindow-seat, sniffing thedelicious scentof toastand watching her reflection in the window. Half of the Nursery shone in thegarden,aroommadeentirelyoflight.Theflamesofthefirewerewarmonherback,butanotherfireleaptandglowedbeforeher.Itdancedintheairbetweenthehousesbeneaththereflectionofthemantelpiece.Outthereanotherrocking-horse was tossing his dappled head; and from the other side of the windowanother Jane watched and nodded and smiled. When Jane breathed on the

window-pane and drew a face in the misty circle, her reflection did the verysamething.Andallthetimeshewasbreathinganddrawing,shecouldseerightthroughherself.BehindthefacethatsmiledatherwerethebareblackboughsoftheCherryTrees,andrightthroughthemiddleofherbodywasthewallofMissLark’shouse.

Presently the frontdoorbangedandMrBankswentaway to theCity.MrsBankshurriedinto thedrawing-roomtoanswer themorning’s letters.DowninthekitchenMrsBrillwashavingakipperforbreakfast.Ellenhadcaughtanothercoldandwasbusilyblowinghernose.AndupintheNurserythefirewentpop!andMaryPoppins’apronwentcrackle!Altogether,exceptforthewindoutside,itwasapeacefulmorning.

Not for very long, however. ForMichael burst inwith a sudden rush andstood in the doorway in his pyjamas.His eyes had a silver, sleepy look as hestood therestaringatMaryPoppins.Hestaredather faceandhestaredatherfeetwithanearnest,measuring, searchinggaze thatmissedoutnopartofher.Thenhesaid“Oh!”inadisappointedvoiceandrubbedthesleepfromhiseyes.

“Well?What’sthematterwithyou?”sheenquired.“Lostsixpenceandfoundapenny?”

He shook his head dejectedly. “I dreamed you had turned into a beautifulprincess.Andhereyouarejustthesameasever.”

Shebridledandgaveherheadatoss.“HandsomeisasHandsomedoes!”shesaidwithahaughtysniff.“I’mperfectlywellasIam,thankyou!I’msatisfied,ifyou’renot.”

Princess,indeed,youcouldseeherthinking.Asifanyprincessintheworldwouldn’tgivehereyestobeMaryPoppins!

Heflewtohersideandtriedtoappeaseher.“Oh, Iam satisfied,MaryPoppins!”hesaideagerly.“I just thought that if

thedreamhadcometrueitwouldbe–er–asortofchange.”“Change!”sheexclaimedwithanothersniff.“You’llgetallthechangesyou

wantsoonenough–Ipromiseyou,MichaelBanks!”Helookedatheruneasily.Whatdidshemeanbythat,hewondered.“Iwasonlyjoking,MaryPoppins.Idon’twantanychanges,really!Ionly

wantyou–foralways!”Andsuddenlyitseemedtohimthatprincesseswereverysillycreatureswith

nothingtobesaidintheirfavour.“Humph!”saidMaryPoppinscrossly,assheplonkedthetoastonthetable.

“Youcan’thaveanythingforalways–anddon’tyouthinkit,sir!”

“Exceptyou!”heretortedconfidently,smilinghismischievoussmile.Astrangeexpressioncameoverherface.ButMichaeldidnotnoticeit.Out

of the corner of his eye he had seenwhat Jane was doing. And now he wasclimbingupbesidehertobreatheonanotherpatchofwindow.

“Look!”hesaidproudly.“I’mdrawingaship.Andthere’sanotherMichaeloutsidedrawingoneigzacklylikeit!”

“Um-hum!” said Jane, without looking up, as she gazed at her ownreflection.ThensuddenlysheturnedawayandcalledtoMaryPoppins.

“Whichistherealme,MaryPoppins?Theoneinhereortheoneoutthere?”Withabowlofporridgeinherhand,MaryPoppinscameandstoodbetween

them.Eachtimeshebreathed,heraproncrackled,andthesteamfromthebowlwent upwith a puff. In silence she looked at her own reflection and smiled asatisfiedsmile.

Then:“Isthisariddle?”shedemanded,sniffing.“No,MaryPoppins,”Janesaideagerly.“It’ssomethingIwanttoknow.”Foramomenttheythought,astheylookedather,thatshemightbegoingto

tell them.ForhereyesgrewsoftandsheliftedherhandasthoughtolayitonJane’sshoulder.Then,apparently,shethoughtbetterofit,forshegaveherheadascornfultossandturnedawaytothetable.

“Idon’tknowaboutyou,”shesaidconceitedly,“butI’mgladtosaythatI’mrealwhereverIhappentobe!Dressyourself,Michael,ifyouplease!AndJane,youcometobreakfast!”

Under thegleamof thosesteelyeyes theyhurried toobeyher.Andby thetimebreakfastwasoverandtheyweresittingonthefloorbuildingaCastleoutof rubber bricks, they had quite forgotten their reflections. Indeed, had theylooked,theywouldnothavefoundthem,forthefirehadsettledtoarosyglowandthebrightflameshadgone.

“That’sbetter!”saidNumberSeventeen,snugglingcloserintotheearth.Thewarmthfromthefirecreptthroughitsbonesandthehousecamealiveas

MaryPoppinswentscuttlingaboutit.Todaysheseemedevenbusierthanusual.Shesortedtheclothesandtidied

thedrawers,sewedonoddbuttonsandmendedsocks.Sheputfreshpapersontheshelves,letdownthehemsofJane’sandBarbara’sfrocks,andstitchednewelastic into John’shat andMichael’s.She collectedAnnabel’s old clothes andmade them into a bundle for Mrs Brill’s niece’s baby. She cleaned out thecupboards,sortedthetoysandputthebooksstraightinthebookcases.

“Howbusysheis!Itmakesmequitegiddy!”saidMichaelinawhisper.

But Jane said nothing. She gazed at the crackly, bustling figure. And athought thatshecouldnotquitegetholdofwaswanderingroundinhermind.Something–wasitamemory?–whisperedawordthatshecouldn’tquitecatch.

Andallthroughthemorning,theStarlingsatontheNextDoorchimneyandscreechedhisendlesssong.EverynowandthenhewoulddartacrossthegardenandpeerthroughthewindowatMaryPoppinswithbrightanxiouseyes.Andthewindwentroundandroundthehouse,sighingandcrying.

The hourswent by and lunch time came.And stillMaryPoppinswent onbustling like a very tidy tornado. She put fresh daffodils in the jam-jar; shestraightened the furniture and shook out the curtains. The children felt theNurserytremblebeneathherministeringhand.

“Willshenever stop!”Michaelcomplained toJane,asheaddeda roomtotheCastle.

Andat thatmoment, as thoughMaryPoppinshadheardwhathe said, shesuddenlystoodstill.

“There!”sheexclaimed,asshe lookedatherhandiwork.“It’sasNeatasaPin.AndIhopeitremainsso!”

Thenshetookdownherbestbluecoatandbrushedit.Shebreathedonthebuttons tomake them shine and pinned the starfish brooch on her collar. Shetweaked and pulled at her black straw hat till the daisies stood up as stiff assoldiers.Thenshetookoffherwidecracklingapronandbuckledthesnake-skinbeltroundherwaist.Themessagewrittenonitwasclearlyvisible:“APresentfromtheZoo,”itsaid,inlargesnakyletters.

“Youhaven’twornthatforalong,longtime,”saidMichael,watchingwithinterest.

“IkeepitforBest,”sherepliedcalmly,asshetwitchedthebeltintoplace.Then she took her umbrella from the corner and polished the parrot-head

withbeeswax.Andafterthat,withaquietsmile,shepluckedtheTapeMeasurefromthemantelpieceandpoppeditintothepocketofhercoat.

Janeliftedherheadquickly.Somehow,thesightofthatbulgingpocketmadeherfeelstrangelyserious.

“Why don’t you leave the Tape Measure there? It’s perfectly safe, MaryPoppins.”

Therewasapause.MaryPoppinsappearedtobeconsideringthequestion.“Ihavemyreasons,”shesaidatlast,asshegaveasuperiorsniff.“Butit’salwaysbeenonthemantelpiece,eversinceyoucameback!”“Thatdoesn’tmeanthatitalwayswillbe.What’sgoodforMondaywon’tdo

forFriday,”sherepliedwithherpriggishsmile.Jane turnedaway.Whatwas thematterwithherheart?Itsuddenlyfelt too

bigforherchest.“I’mlonely,”shesaidinawhispertoMichael,takingcarenottolookathim.“Youcan’tbelonelyaslongasI’mhere!”Heputhislastbrickontheroof

oftheCastle.“It’snotthatkindofloneliness.IfeelI’mgoingtolosesomething.”“Perhaps it’s your tooth,” he said, with interest. “Try it and see if it

wobbles.”Jane shook her head quickly.Whatever it was shewas going to lose, she

knewitwasnotatooth.“Oh, for justonemorebrick!” sighedMichael. “Everything’sdonebut the

chimney!”MaryPoppinscameswiftlyacrosstheroom.“Thereyouare!That’swhatitneeds!”shesaid.Andshestoopedandputone

ofherowndominoesintheplacewherethechimneyshouldbe.“Hooray!It’scompletelyfinished!”hecried,glancingupatherwithdelight.

Thenhesawthatshehadplacedtheboxofdominoesbesidehim.Thesightofthemmadehimfeelqueerlyuneasy.

“Youmean...”hesaid,swallowing.“Youmean–wemaykeepthem?”Hehadalwayswantedthosedominoes.ButneverbeforehadMaryPoppins

allowedhimto touchherpossessions.Whatdid itmean?Itwassounlikeher.Andsuddenly,asshenoddedathim,hetoofeltapangofloneliness.

“Oh!”hebrokeout,with ananxiouswail. “What’swrong,MaryPoppins?Whatcanbethematter?”

“Wrong!”Hereyessnappedangrily.“Igiveyouanice respectablepresentandthat’sallthethanksIget!What’swrongindeed!I’llknowbetternexttime.”

Herushedatherwildlyandclutchedherhand.“Oh,Ididn’tmeanthat,MaryPoppins!I–thankyou.ItwasjustasuddenideaIhad—”

“Thoseideasaregoingtogetyouintotroubleoneofthesefinebrightdays.You mark my words!” she snorted. “Now, get your hats, please, all of you!We’llgoforawalktotheSwings.”

Atthesightofthatfamiliarglaretheiranxietymeltedaway.Shewassolikeherusualoutragedself thatnothing, theythought,couldreallybewrong.Theyflewtogetready,shoutingandlaughing,andknockingtheCastledownastheyran.

ThethinSpringsunshoneovertheParkastheyhurriedacrosstheLane.The

greynessof themorninghadvanishedandthemoaningwindhadgonewithit.Green smokehung around theCherryTreeswhere the small new leavesweresprouting.The scentofprimroseswas in theair and thebirdswere rehearsingtheirsongsforSummer.

“I’llraceyoutotheSwings!”shoutedMichael.“We’llhave themall toourselves!”criedJane.Fornobodyelsewas in the

clearingwherethefiveswingsstoodandwaited.In no time they had scrambled for places and Jane andMichael, John and

Barbara were each on a swing of their own. Annabel, looking like a whitewoollenegg,sharedherswithMaryPoppins.

“Now – one, two, THREE!” criedMichael loudly, and the wings swayedfrom the cross-beam. Slowly and gently they went at first. And then, as thechildren worked their feet, the swings began to go faster. The taut ropestrembledwithintheirhands;thewoodenseatsrockedinthemovingair.Higherandhigherthechildrenswung,swoopinglikebirdsthroughthedelicatesunlight.Uptheywentwiththeirheadstotheskyanddowntheycamewiththeirfeettotheearth.Thetreesseemedtospreadtheirbranchesbelowthem;theroofsofthehousesnoddedandbowed.

“It’slikeflying!”Janecriedhappily,astheearthturnedasomersaultunderherfeet.SheglancedacrossatMichael.Hishairwastossinginalldirectionsashe rode through the air. The Twins were squeaking like excited mice. Andbeyond them, with a dignified air, Mary Poppins swung backwards andforwards. One hand held Annabel on her knee and the other grasped herumbrella.Up, up, shewent, till her black strawhatwas higher than the trees,thendownshecamewithherneatblacktoespointedtowardsthelawn.Hereyes,assherodeherflyingswing,shonewithastrangebrightgleam.TheywerebluerthanJanehadeverseenthem,bluewiththebluenessoffar-away.Theyseemedtolookpastthetreesandhouses,andoutbeyondalltheseasandmountains,andovertherimoftheworld.

The five swings groaned as they swung together.The afternoon faded andtheParkgrewgreyasittiltedbeneaththeirfeet.ButJaneandMichaeltooknonotice.TheywerewrappedinadreamwithMaryPoppins,adreamthatswungthem up and down between the earth and the sky, a rocking, riding, lullingdreamthatwouldnevercometoanend.

Butcometoanend itdid,at last.Thesunwentdownand thedreamwentwithit.AsthelastraysspreadacrossthePark,MaryPoppinsputherfoottothegroundandherswingstoppedwithajerk.

“Itistimetogo,”shesaidquietly.Andbecausehervoice,foronce,hadnosternness,theystoppedtheirswingsimmediatelyandobeyedwithoutprotesting.TheperambulatorgaveitsfamiliargroanasshedumpedtheTwinsandAnnabelintoit.JaneandMichaelwalkedquietlybesideher.Theearthwasstillswayingbeneaththeirfeet.Theywerehappyandcalmandsilent.

Creak,creak!wenttheperambulatoralongthepath.Trip,trip,wentMaryPoppins’shoes.Michael glanced up as the last light fell on the faint green leaves of the

CherryTrees.“Ibelieve,”hesaiddreamilytoJane,“thatNellie-Rubina’sbeenhere!”“Heretodayandgonetomorrow–that’sme!”criedatinklingvoice.And they turned to findNellie-Rubinaherself rollingalongonherwooden

disc.AndbehindhercamethewheelingshapeofUncleDodger.“What a roll I’ve had!” cried Nellie-Rubina. “I’ve looked for you

everywhere!”shepanted.“Howareyouall?Doingnicely,Ihope!Iwantedtoseeyou,dearMissPoppins,togiveyoua—”

“Andalso,”saidUncleDodgereagerly,“towishyouaverygood—”“UncleDodger!”saidNellie-Rubina,withawarningglintinhereye.“Oh, excuse me! Begging your pardon, my dear!” the old man answered

quickly.“Just a Little Something to remember us by,” Nellie-Rubina went on. A

smile spread over her wooden face. Then, thrusting out her wooden arm, shepoppedasmallwhiteobjectintoMaryPoppins’hand.

“It’saConversation!”Michaelexclaimed.Jane peered at the letters in the fading light. “‘Fare TheeWell, my Fairy

Fay!’”shereadout.“Areyougoingaway,then,Nellie-Rubina?”“Oh,dearme,yes!Tonight’sthenight!”Nellie-Rubinagaveatinklinglaugh

assheglancedatMaryPoppins.“Youcankeepittoeatontheway,MaryPoppins!”UncleDodgernoddedat

theConversation.“UncleDodger!”criedNellie-Rubina.“Oh,my!Oh,my!Outofturnagain!I’mtooold,that’swhatitis,mydear.

Andbeggingyourpardon,ofcourse.”“Well,it’sverykindofyouboth,I’msure,”saidMaryPoppinspolitely.You

could see she was pleased by the way she smiled. Then she tucked theConversationintoherpocketandgavethepramapush.

“Oh,dowaitaminute,MaryPoppins!”criedabreathlessvoicebehindthem.

Apatterofstepscamealongthepathandthechildrenturnedquickly.“Why, it’sMr andMrs Turvy!” criedMichael, as a tall, thin shape and a

round,fatonecameforward,handinhand.“Wenowcallourselves theTopsy-Turvies.We think it soundsbetter.”Mr

Turvylookeddownatthemoverhisglassesashiswifeshookhandsallround.“Well,Mary,”hewenton, inhisgloomyvoice,“wethoughtwe’ddropin,

justforamoment–tosaySoLong,youknow.”“And not too long,we hope, dearMary!” addedMrs Turvy, smiling.Her

round,fatfaceshooklikeajellyandshelookedextremelyhappy.“Oh, thank you kindly, Cousin Arthur! And you too, Topsy!” said Mary

Poppins,assheshookthembothbythehand.“What does it mean – So Long?” asked Jane as she leant against Mary

Poppins.Something–perhapsitwasthedarkness–madehersuddenlywanttobeveryclosetothatwarmandcomfortingfigure.

“Itmeansmydaughters!”asmallvoicescreeched,asashapeemergedfromthe shadows. “So long, so wide, so huge, so stupid – the great GallumpingGiraffes.”

And there on the path stood Mrs Corry with her coat all covered withthreepenny-bits. And behind her Fannie and Annie stalked, like a pair ofmournfulgiants.

“Well,hereweareagain!”shriekedMrsCorry,asshegrinnedatthestaringchildren.“H’m!Growingupfast,aren’tthey,MaryPoppins?Icanseethattheywon’tneedyoumuchlonger!”

Mary Poppins gave a nod of agreement asMichael,with a cry of protest,rushedtoherside.

“We’llalwaysneedher–always!”hecried,huggingMaryPoppins’waistsotightlythathefeltherstronghardbones.

Sheglaredathimlikeanangrypanther.“Kindly do not crushme,Michael! I am not a Sardine in a tin!” she said

wrathfully,asshegavehimalittlepush.“Well,Ijustcametohaveawordwithyou,”MrsCorrycackledon.“Anold

word,Mary,andonethatisbestsaidquickly.AsIusedtotellSolomonwhenhewas making that fuss about the Queen of Sheba – if you’ve got to say itsometime,whynotnow?”MrsCorrylookedsearchinglyatMaryPoppins.Thensheaddedsoftly,“Goodbye,mydear!”

“Areyougoingawaytoo?”MichaeldemandedasshestaredatMrsCorry.She gave a merry shriek of laughter. “Well – yes, I am, in a manner of

speaking!Once one goes they all go – that’s theway of it.Now, Fannie andAnnie,”sheglancedaround,“whathaveyouidiotsdonewiththosepresents?”

“Here, Mother!” the sisters answered nervously. And the huge handsdropped into Mary Poppins’ palm two tiny pieces of gingerbread. One wasshapedlikeaheartandtheotherlikeastar.

MaryPoppinsgaveacryofdelight.“Why,MrsCorry!Whatasurprise!ThisisaTreataswellasaPleasure!”“Oh,it’snothing.JustaSouvenir.”MrsCorryairilywavedherhand,andher

littleelastic-sidedbootsdancedalongbesidetheperambulator.“All your friends seem to be here tonight!” remarked Michael to Mary

Poppins.“Well,whatdoyouthinkIam–aHermit?IsupposeIcanseemyfriends

whenIlike!”shesaidwithatossofherhead.“Iwasonlyremarking—”hebegan,whenagladshriekinterruptedhim.“Why,Albert–ifitisn’tyou!”criedMrsCorrygaily.Andsherantomeeta

roly-poly figure thatwashurrying towards them.Thechildrengavea shoutofjoyastheyrecognisedMrWigg.

“Well,Blessmyboots.It’sClaraCorry!”criedMrWigg,shakingherhandaffectionately.

“I didn’t know you knew each other!” exclaimed Jane, looking verysurprised.

“Whatyoudon’tknowwouldfillaDictionary,”MaryPoppinsbrokeinwithasnort.

“Knoweachother?Why,wewerechildrentogether–weren’twe,Albert?”criedMrsCorry.

MrWiggchuckled.“Ah, thegoodolddays!”heansweredcheerily.“Well,howareyou,Mary,mygirl?”

“Nicely,thankyou,UncleAlbert.Mustn’tcomplain,”repliedMaryPoppins.“I thought I’d stepup forOneLastWord.Pleasant trip and all that. It’s a

nice night for it.” Mr Wigg glanced round at the clear blue dusk that wascreepingthroughthePark.

“Anicenightforwhat?”demandedMichael.HehopedMaryPoppinswouldnot be lonelywith her friends going off like this.But, after all, he thought tohimself–she’sstillgotmeandwhatmorecouldshewant?

“Anicenighttogosailing–that’swhatit’sfor!”roaredAdmiralBoominhisrollickingvoice.Hewasstridingthroughthetreestowardsthem,singingashecame:

“Sailing,sailing,overtheBoundingMain,AndmanyastormyWindshallblowTillwecomehomeagain!Sailing,sailing,—

Ahoythere,lubbers!Hoistthemainsail!Upwiththeanchorandlethergo.ForawayI’mboundtogo–oho!–’crossthewideMissouri!”HeblewhisnosewithasoundlikeafoghornandlookedatMaryPoppins.

“Allaboard?”heenquiredgruffly,puttingahandonhershoulder.“Allaboard,sir,”sheansweredprimly,andshegavehimacuriouslook.“Hrrrrrrrrmph!Well–

“I’llbetruetomylove,IfmyLovewillbetru-uetome!”

he sang, in a voice that was almost gentle. “Here—” he broke off. “Port andStarboard!CocklesandWhelks!Youcan’tdothattoaSailor!”

“BalloonsandBalloons!” cried a high-pitched voice as a little shapewentwhizzingpastandknockedofftheAdmiral’shat.

It was the Balloon Woman. One small balloon flew from her hand. Itbouncedherupontheendofitsstringandsweptherawaythroughtheshadows.

“GoodbyeandGoodbye,myDearieDuck!”shecalledasshedisappeared.“Thereshegoes–offlikeastreakoflightning!”criedJane,gazingafterher.“Well, she’s certainly not a creeping Snail, like some people I could

mention!Kindlywalkup!”saidMaryPoppins.“Ihaven’tallnighttowaste!”“Ishouldthinknot!”MrsCorrysaid,grinning.Theywalked up. For once theywere eager to do anything she told them.

Theyputtheirhandsontheperambulatorbesideherblack-glovedfingers.Andthe blue duck lapped them round like a river as they hurried along with thechatteringgroup.

TheywerenearlyattheParkGatesnow.TheLanestretcheddarklyinfrontof them and from it came a strain ofmusic. Jane andMichael looked at eachother.Whatcoulditbe?said theirupraisedbrows.Thentheircuriositygot thebetterofthem.TheywantedtostaywithMaryPoppinsbuttheyalsowantedtoseewhatwashappening.Theygaveoneglanceatherdarkbluefigureandthenbegantorun.

“Oh, look!” cried Jane, as she reached the Gate. “It’sMr Twigleywith aHurdy-gurdy!”

AndMrTwigleyitwasindeed,drawingasweetwildtunefromtheboxashebusilyturnedthehandle.Besidehimstoodasmallbrightfigurethatwasvaguelyfamiliar.

“And all of them made of the Finest Sugar,” it was saying gaily to MrTwigleyasthechildrencrossedtheroad.Then,ofcoursetheyknewwhoitwas.

“Stare,stare,LikeaBear,Thenyou’llknowmeEverywhere!”

chantedMissCalicocheerfully,asshewavedherhandtowardsthem.“Couldyoumoveyourfeetabit,please,kids!You’restandingononeofmy

roses!”Bert, theMatchMan, crouched on the pavement, right at their own front

gate. He was drawing a large bouquet of flowers in coloured chalks on theasphalt. Ellen and the Policemanwerewatching him.AndMiss Lark and herdogswerelisteningtothemusicastheystoodoutsideNextDoor.

“Wait aminute,” she cried toMr Twigley, “while I run in and get you ashilling!”

MrTwigleysmiledhistwinklysmileandshookhisheadgently.“Don’tbother,ma’am,”headvisedMissLark.“Ashillingwouldbenouse

tome. I’mdoing itAll forLove.”And the children sawhim lift his eyes andexchangealookwithMaryPoppinsasshestrodeoutofthePark.Hewoundthehandlewithallhismightandthetunegrewlouderandquicker.

“OneForget-me-not–andthenit’sfinished,”theMatchManmurmuredtohimselfasheaddedaflowertothebunch.

“That’s dainty, Bert!” saidMary Poppins admiringly. She had pushed theperambulatorupbehindhimandwasgazingatthepicture.

He sprang to his feetwith a little cry and, plucking the bouquet from thepavement,hepresseditintoherhand.

“They’reyours,Mary,”hetoldhershyly.“Idrewthemallforyou!”“Didyoureally,Bert?”shesaidwithasmile.“Well,Ijustdon’tknowhow

to thankyou!”Shehidherblushingface in the flowersand thechildrencouldsmellthescentofroses.

TheMatchManlookedatherglowingeyesandsmiledalovingsmile.“It’stonight–isn’tit,Mary?”hesaid.

“Yes,Bert,”shesaid,nodding,asshegavehimherhand.TheMatchManlookedatitsadlyforamoment.Thenhebenthisheadandkissedit.

“Goodbye,then,Mary!”theyheardhimwhisper.Andsheansweredsoftly,“Goodbye,Bert!”“Whatisallthisabouttonight?”saidMichaelinquisitively.Youwouldthink

therehadneverbeenanightbefore,thefusseveryonewasmaking!“Tonightisthehappiestnightofmylife!”saidMissLarkasshelistenedto

theHurdy-gurdy.“Ineverheardsuchbeautifulmusic.Itmakesmyfeetsimplytwinkle!”

“Well, let ’em twinklewithmine!” roared theAdmiral.He snatchedMissLarkawayfromhergateandpolka-edalongtheLane.

“Oh,Admiral!”theyheardhercry,asheswungherroundandround.MrWiggturnedtoMrsCorry.“Clara,IhopeImayhavethehonour!”Mrs

Corrygaveawhoopofdelightandflungherselfintohisarms.“Lovey-dovey-cat’s-eyes!” cooedMrsTurvy.AndMrTurvy, lookingvery

embarrassed,allowedhertodancehimround.Herwideskirtswhirledabouthisfeetandhercurlssprangoutineverydirection.

“Wotabout it–eh?” thePolicemansmirked, andbeforeEllenhad time toblowhernose,hehadwhirledherintothedance.

One,two,three!One,two,three!Highandsweet,themusicflowedfromtheHurdy-gurdy.Thestreet lampsblazedwithsuddenbrightnessandspeckledtheLanewith light and shadow.One, two, three,wentMissCalico’s feet, as shedancedalongbesideMrTwigley. Itwas suchawildandmerry tune that JaneandMichaelcouldstandstillnolonger.Offtheydartedandone,two,three,theirfeetwenttappingontheechoingroad.

“’Ere!Wot’s all this?Observe theRules!Wecan’t ’avedancing inPublicPlaces!Moveon,now,don’tobstructthetraffic!”TheParkKeeper,gogglingasusual,camethreadinghiswaythroughCherryTreeLane.

“MercymeandaJumpingBean!You’rejustthemanIwant!”shriekedMissCalico.AndbeforetheParkKeeperknewwherehewas,shehadswunghimintothemazydancewherehegulpedandgapedandtwirled.

“Roundwego,Clara!”criedMrWigg,swingingpastwithMrsCorry.“IusedtodothiswithHenrytheEighth–andoh,whatatimewehad!”she

shrieked.“Getalong,clumsies!Keepyour feet toyourselves!”sheadded, inadifferent voice, toFannie andAnniewhoweredancing together like apair ofmournfulelephants.

“I’veneverbeensohappybefore!”cameMissLark’sexcitedcry.

“Youshouldgotosea,mydearLucinda!Everyone’shappyatsea!”roaredtheAdmiral,ashepolka-edmadlyalong.

“IdobelieveIwill,”shereplied.Andhertwodogslookedateachotheraghastandhopedshewouldchange

hermind.Deeperanddeepergrewtheduskasthedancerswhirledinaring.Andthere

in the centre stoodMary Poppins with her flowers clasped in her hands. Sherocked the perambulator gently and her foot beat time with the music. TheMatchManwatchedherfromthepavement.Andthecouples,astheypolka-edpast,gaveheralittlequicktouchontheshoulderasthoughtheyweresalutingher.

Straightandstiffshestoodthere,smiling,andhereyeswentrovingfromoneto the other –Miss Lark and theAdmiral; the Topsy-Turvies; the twoNoahsrollingaroundontheirdiscs;MissCalicoclutchingtheParkKeeper;MrsCorryinthearmsofMrWigg;andMrsCorry’sbigdaughters.Thenherbrightglancefellonthetwoyoungchildrenwhoweredancingroundinthering.Shelookedatthemforalong,longmoment,watchingtheirbrightenchantedfacesandtheirarmsgoingouttoeachother.

Andsuddenly,as thoughtheyfelt that lookuponthem,theystoppedinthemiddleoftheirdanceandrantoher,laughingandbreathless.

“MaryPoppins!”theybothcried,pressingagainsther.Thentheyfoundtheyhadnothingelsetosay.Hernameseemedtobeenough.

Sheputherarmsabout theirshouldersand looked into theireyes. Itwasalong,deep,searchinglookthatplungedrightdowntotheirveryheartsandsawwhatwasthere.Thenshesmiledtoherselfandturnedaway.Shetookherparrot-headedumbrellafromtheperambulatorandgatheredAnnabelintoherarms.

“Imustgoinnow,JaneandMichael!YoutwocanbringtheTwinslater.”Theynodded,stillpantingfromthedance.“Now,begoodchildren!” she saidquietly. “And remember all I have told

you.”Theysmiledatherreassuringly.Whatafunnythingtosay,theythought.As

iftheywoulddareforget!ShegavetheTwins’curlsagentlerumple;shebuttonedupMichael’scoatat

theneckandstraightenedJane’scollar.“Now,spit-spotandawaywego!”shecriedgailytoAnnabel.Thenoffshetrippedthroughthegardengate,withthebaby,theflowersand

the parrot umbrella held lightly in her arms.Up the stepswent the prim, trim

figure, walking with a jaunty air as though she was thoroughly pleased withherself.

“Farewell, Mary Poppins!” the dancers cried, as she paused at the FrontDoor.

Sheglancedbackoverhershoulderandnodded.ThentheHurdy-gurdygavealoudsweetpealandtheFrontDoorclosedbehindher.

Jane shivered as themusic ceased. Perhaps it was the frost in the air thatmadeherfeelsolonely.

MichaelreachedoutandtuckedtherugmoretightlyroundtheTwins.“We’llwaittillallthepeopleleaveandthenwe’llgoin,”saidJane.Sheglancedaroundat thegroupofdancers.Theywere standingstillupon

the pavement and seemed to be waiting for something. For every face wasgazingupwardsatNumberSeventeen.

“What can they be looking at?” saidMichael, as he craned his own headbackwards.

Then a glow appeared at the Nursery windows and a dark shape movedacrossit.ThechildrenknewitwasMaryPoppins,lightingtheeveningfire.Andpresently theflamessprangup.Theysparkledonthewindow-panesandshonethrough the darkening garden.Higher and higher leapt the blaze, brighter andbrighter thewindows gleamed. Then suddenly they saw theNursery reflecteduponMissLark’s sidewall.There it gleamed,highabove thegarden,with itssparklingfireandthemantelpieceandtheoldarmchairand—

“The Door! The Door!” A breathless cry went up from the crowd in theLane.

What door? Jane and Michael stared at each other. And suddenly – theyknew!

“Oh,Michael! It isn’t her friends who are going away!” cried Jane in ananguishedvoice.“It’s–oh,hurry,hurry!Wemustgoandfindher!”

WithtremblinghandstheyhauledouttheTwinsanddraggedthemthroughthegate.Pantingwithanxietytheyranupthegardenpath.TheytoreattheFrontDoor,rushedupstairsandburstintotheNursery.

Theirfacesfellastheystaredattheroom,foreverythinginitwasquietandpeacefulasithadalwaysbeen.Thefirewascracklingbehinditsbarsand,cosilytuckedinsidehercot,Annabelwassoftlycooing.Thebrickstheyhadusedforthe morning’s Castle were neatly piled in a corner. And beside them lay thepreciousboxofMaryPoppins’dominoes.

“Oh!”theypanted,surprisedandpuzzledtofindeverythingjustthesame.

Everything?No!Therewasonethingmissing.“Thecampbed!”Michaelcried.“It’sgone!Then–whereisMaryPoppins?”HetorethroughtheNursery,callinghername.Herantothebathroomand

outonthelandingandbacktotheNurseryagain.“MaryPoppins!MaryPoppins!MaryPoppins!”ThenJaneglancedupfromthefiretothewindowandgavealittlecry.“Oh,Michael,Michael!Theresheis!AndthereistheOtherDoor!”Hefollowedthelineofherpointingfingerandhismouthopenedwide.For there, on the outer side of thewindow, anotherNursery glimmered. It

stretched from Number Seventeen to the wall of Miss Lark’s house; andeverything in the real Nursery was reflected in that shining room. There wasAnnabel’sgleamingcotandthetablemadeoflight.Therewasthefire,leapingupinmid-air;andthere,atlast,wastheOtherDoor,exactlythesameastheonebehindthem.Itshimmeredlikeapanelof lightat theothersideofthegarden.Besideitstoodtheirownreflectionsandtowardsit,alongtheairyfloor,trippedthefigureofMaryPoppins.Shecarriedthecarpetbaginherhand;andtheMatchMan’sflowersandtheparrotumbrellaweretuckedbeneathherarm.Awayshestalked through the Nursery’s reflection, away through the shimmeringlikenessesoftheoldfamiliarthings.Andasshewent,thedaisiesnoddedonthecrownofherblackstrawhat.

AloudcryburstfromMichael’smouthasherushedtowardsthewindow.“MaryPoppins!”hecried.“Comeback!Comeback!”BehindhimtheTwinsbegantogrizzle.“Oh,please,MaryPoppins,comebacktous!”calledJane,fromthewindow-

seat.ButMaryPoppins tooknonotice. She strode on swiftly towards theDoor

thatshimmeredintheair.“Shewon’tgetanywherethatway!”saidMichael.“ItwillonlyleadtoMiss

Lark’swall.”But evenashe spoke,MaryPoppins reached theOtherDoorandpulled it

wideopen.Agaspofsurprisewentupfromthechildren.Forthewalltheyhadexpected to seehadentirelydisappeared.BeyondMaryPoppins’ straight,bluefiguretherewasnothingbutfieldonfieldofsky,andthedarkspreadingnight.

“Comeback,MaryPoppins!”theycriedtogether,inalastdespairingwail.Andasthoughshehadheardthem,shepausedforaminute,withonefooton

the threshold. The starfish sparkled on her collar as she glanced back swiftlytowardstheNursery.Shesmiledatthefoursad,watchingfacesandwavedher

bouquetofflowers.Thenshesnappedtheparrotumbrellaopenandsteppedoutintothenight.

Theumbrellawobbled for amoment and the light from the fire shone fulluponitasitswayedintheair.Then,withabound,asthoughgladtobefree,itsoaredawaythroughthesky.Up,upwentMaryPoppinswithit,tightlyholdingthe parrot handle as she cleared the tops of the trees. And as she went, theHurdy-gurdybrokeoutwithapealofmusic,asloudandproudandtriumphantasanyweddingmarch.

BackintheNurserythegreatblazefadedandsankintocrimsoncoals.Theflameswentdownandwiththemwenttheshiningotherroom.Soontherewasnothing tobe seenbut theCherryTreeswaving through the air and theblankbrickwallofMissLark’shouse.

Butabovetheroofabrightformrose,flyinghighereveryminute.Itseemedtohavegatheredintoitselfthesparkleandflameofthefire.Foritglowedlikealittlecoreoflightintheblackfrostysky.

Leaning upon thewindow-seat, the four childrenwatched it. Their cheekslayheavilyintheirhandsandtheirheartswereheavywithintheirbreasts.Theydid not try to explain it to themselves, for they knew therewere things aboutMaryPoppinsthatcouldneverbeexplained.Whereshehadcomefromnobodyknew,andwhereshewasgoingtheycouldnotguess.Theywerecertainonlyofonething–thatshehadkeptherpromise.ShehadstayedwiththemtilltheDooropenedandthenshehadleftthem.Andtheycouldnottelliftheywouldeverseethattrimshapeagain.

Michael reached out for the box of dominoes.He put it on the sill besideJane.Andtogethertheyhelditastheywatchedtheumbrellagosailingthroughthesky.

PresentlyMrsBankscamein.“What–sittingallalone,mydarlings?”shecriedasshesnappedonthelight.

“Where’sMaryPoppins?”sheenquired,withaglanceroundtheroom.“Gone,ma’am,”saidaresentfulvoice,asMrsBrillappearedonthelanding.MrsBanks’facehadastartledlook.“Whatdoyoumean?”shedemandedanxiously.“Well, it’s thisway,”MrsBrill replied. “Iwas listenin’ to aNurdy-gurdy

that’s down in theLane,when I see’s the empty perambulator and theMatchManwheelin’ituptothedoor.‘Ullo!’Isays,‘where’sthatMaryPoppins?’And’etellsmeshe’sgoneagain.Lock,stockandbarrergone.Notevenanoteon’erpin-cushion!”

“Oh,whatshallIdo?”wailedMrsBanks,sittingdownontheoldarmchair.“Do?Youcancomeanddancewithme!”criedMrBanks’voice,asheraced

upstairs.“Oh, don’t be so silly, George! Something’s happened.Mary Poppins has

goneagain!”MrsBanks’facewasatragedy.“George!George!Pleaselistentome!”shebegged,wringingherhands.

ForMrBanks had taken no notice.Hewaswaltzing round and round theroom,holdingouthiscoat-tails.

“Ican’t!There’saHurdy-gurdydownintheLaneandit’splayingtheBlueDanube.Ta-rumpom-pom-pom–de-di,de-dum!”

And,pullingMrsBanksfromthechair,hewaltzedherround,singinglustily.Thentheybothcollapsedonthewindow-seatamongthewatchingchildren.

“But, George – this is serious!”Mrs Banks protested, half-laughing, half-crying,asshepinnedupherhair.

“Iseesomethingmuchmoreserious!”heexclaimed,asheglancedthroughtheNurserywindow.“Ashootingstar!Lookatit!Wishonit,children!”

Awaythroughtheskystreakedtheshiningspark,cleavingapaththroughthedarkness.Andastheywatchedit,everyheartwasfilledwithsuddensweetness.DownintheLanethemusicceasedandthedancersstoodgazing,handinhand.

“MydearLove!”MrBankssaidtenderly,ashetouchedMrsBanks’cheek.Andtheyputtheirarmsaroundeachotherandwishedonthestar.

Jane and Michael held their breath as the sweetness brimmed up withinthem.And the thing theywishedwas that all their lives theymight rememberMaryPoppins.WhereandHowandWhenandWhy–hadnothing todowiththem. They knew that as far as she was concerned those questions had noanswers.Thebrightshapespeedingthroughtheairabovethemwouldforeverkeepitssecret.But in thesummerdaystocomeandthelongnightsofwinter,theywouldrememberMaryPoppinsandthinkofallshehadtoldthem.Therainand the sun would remind them of her, and the birds and the beasts and thechangingseasons.MaryPoppinsherselfhadflownaway,but thegiftsshehadbroughtwouldremainforalways.

“We’ll never forget you,Mary Poppins!” they breathed, looking up at thesky.

Her bright shapepaused in its flight for amoment andgave an answeringwave.Thendarknessfoldeditswingaboutherandhidherfromtheireyes.

“It’sgone!”saidMrBankswithasigh,ashepulledthecurtainsacrossthewindowanddrewthemalltothefire...

Sussex,EnglandNewYork,U.S.A.

GLORIAINEXCELSISDEO

Theadventuresinthisbookshouldbeunderstoodtohavehappenedduringanyof the three visits of Mary Poppins to the Banks Family. This is a word ofwarning to anybodywhomay be expecting they are in for a fourth visit. Shecannotforeverarriveanddepart.And,apartfromthat,itshouldberememberedthatthreeisaluckynumber.

ThosewhoalreadyknowMaryPoppinswillalsobefamiliarwithmanyofthe other characterswho appear here.And thosewho don’t – if theywant toknowthemmoreintimately–canfindthemintheearliervolumes.

P.L.T.

Contents

EveryGooseaSwan

TheFaithfulFriends

LuckyThursday

TheChildrenintheStory

TheParkinthePark

Hallowe’en

ChapterOne

EVERYGOOSEASWAN

THE SUMMER DAY was hot and still. The Cherry-Trees that bordered the Lanecould feel their cherries ripening– thegreen slowly turning toyellowand theyellowblushingred.

The houses dozed in the dusty gardenswith their shutters over their eyes.“Donotdisturbus!”theyseemedtosay.“Werestintheafternoon.”

Andthestarlingshidthemselvesinthechimneyswiththeirheadsundertheirwings.

Over thePark lay a cloudof sunlight as thick and as golden as syrup.Nowind stirred the heavy leaves. The flowers stood up, very still and shiny, asthoughtheyweremadeofmetal.

DownbytheLakethebencheswereempty.Thepeoplewhousuallysattherehadgonehomeoutoftheheat.Neleus,thelittlemarblestatue,lookeddownattheplacidwater.Nogoldfishflirtedascarlettail.Theywereallsittingunderthelily-leaves–usingthemasumbrellas.

Thelawnsspreadoutlikeagreencarpet,motionlessinthesunlight.Exceptfor a single, rhythmicmovement,youmighthave thought that thewholeParkwasonlyapaintedpicture.Toandfro,bythebigmagnolia,theParkKeeperwasspearinguprubbishandputtingitintoalitter-basket.

Hestoppedhisworkandlookedupastwodogstrottedby.TheyhadcomefromCherryTreeLane,heknew,forMissLarkwascalling

frombehindhershutters.“Andrew!Willoughby!Pleasecomeback!Don’tgoswimminginthatdirty

Lake.I’llmakeyousomeIcedTea!”AndrewandWilloughbylookedateachother,winked,andtrottedon.Butas

they passed the bigmagnolia, they started and pulled up sharply. Down theyfloppedonthegrass,panting–withtheirpinktongueslollingout.

MaryPoppins,neatandpriminherblueskirtandanewhattrimmedwithacrimson tulip, looked at them over her knitting. She was sitting bolt uprightagainstthetree,withaplaidrugspreadonthelawnaroundher.Herhandbagsat

tidilybyherside.Andaboveher,fromafloweringbranch,theparrotumbrelladangled.

Sheglancedatthetwothumpingtailsandgavealittlesniff.“Putinyourtonguesandsitupstraight!Youarenotapairofwolves.”Thetwodogssprangatoncetoattention.AndJane,lyingonthelawn,could

seetheyweredoingtheirverybesttoputtheirtonguesintheircheeks.“And remember, if you’regoing swimming,”MaryPoppins continued, “to

shakeyourselveswhenyoucomeout.Don’tcomesprinklingus!”AndrewandWilloughbylookedreproachful.“Asthough,MaryPoppins,”theyseemedtosay,“wewoulddreamofsucha

thing!”“Allright,then.Beoffwithyou!”Andtheyspedawaylikeshotsfromagun.“Comeback!”MissLarkcriedanxiously.Butnobodytookanynotice.“Whycan’tIswimintheParkLake?”askedMichaelinasmotheredvoice.

Hewaslyingfacedownwardsinthegrasswatchingafamilyofants.“You’renotadog!”MaryPoppinsremindedhim.“I know, Mary Poppins. But if I were—”Was she smiling or not? – he

couldn’tbesure,withhisnosepressedintotheearth.“Well–whatwouldyoudo?”sheenquired,withasniff.Hewantedtosaythatifhewereadoghewoulddojustasheliked–swimor

not,asthemoodtookhim,withoutaskingleaveofanyone.Butwhatifherfacewaslookingfierce!Silencewasbest,hedecided.

“Nothing!”hesaid,inameekvoice.“It’stoohottoargue,MaryPoppins!”“Outofnothingcomesnothing!”Shetossedherheadinits tuliphat.“And

I’mnotarguing,I’mtalking!”Shewashavingthelastword,asusual.The sunlight caught her knitting-needles as it shone through the broad

magnolialeavesonthelittlegroupbelow.JohnandBarbara,leaningtheirheadsoneachother’sshoulders,weredozingandwaking,wakinganddozing.AnnabelwasfastasleepinMaryPoppins’shadow.LightanddarknessdappledthemallandsplotchedthefaceoftheParkKeeperashedivedatapieceofnewspaper.

“AllLittertobeplacedintheBaskets!ObeytheRules!”hesaidsternly.MaryPoppinslookedhimupanddown.Herglancewouldhavewitheredan

oak-tree.“That’snotmylitter,”sheretorted.“Oh?”hesaiddisbelievingly.“No!”shereplied,withavirtuoussnort.

“Well,someonemust’aveputitthere.Itdoesn’tgrow–likeroses!”He pushed his cap to the back of his head and mopped behind his ears.

“Whatwiththeheat,andhertoneofvoice,hewasfeelingquitedepressed.“’Otweather we’re ’avin’! he remarked, eyeing her nervously. He looked

likeaneager,lonelydog.“That’s what we expect in the middle of summer!” Her knitting-needles

clicked.TheParkKeepersighedandtriedagain.“Iseeyoubroughtyerparrot!”hesaid,glancingupat theblacksilkshape

thathungamongtheleaves.“Youmeanmyparrot-headedumbrella,”shehaughtilycorrectedhim.Hegavealittleanxiouslaugh.“Youdon’tthinkit’sgoingtorain,doyou?

Withallthissunabout?”“Idon’tthink,Iknow,”shetoldhimcalmly.“AndifI,”shewenton,“werea

Park Keeper, I wouldn’t be wasting half the day like some people I couldmention!There’sapieceoforangepeeloverthere–whydon’tyoupickitup?”

Shepointedwithherknitting-needleandkeptitpointingaccusinglywhilehespeareduptheoffendinglitterandtosseditintoabasket.

“Ifshewasme,”hesaidtohimself,“there’dbenoParkatall.Onlyanicetidydesert!”Hefannedhisfacewithhiscap.

“And anyway,” he said aloud, “it’s no fault ofmine I’m a ParkKeeper. Ishould’avebeenaNexplorerbyrights,awayinforeignparts.IfI’d’admewayIwouldn’tbe’ere.I’dbesittin’onapieceoficealongwithaPolarBear!”

Hesighedandleantuponhisstick,fallingintoadaydream.“Humph!”saidMaryPoppinsloudly.Andastartleddoveinthetreeabove

herruffleditswinginsurprise.Afeathercameslowlydriftingdown.Janestretchedoutherhandandcaught

it.“Howdeliciouslyittickles!”shemurmured,runningthegreyedgeoverher

nose.Thenshetuckedthefeatheraboveherbrowandboundherribbonroundit.“I’mthedaughterofanIndianChief.Minnehaha,LaughingWater,gliding

alongtheriver.”“Oh,no,you’renot,”contradictedMichael.“You’reJaneCarolineBanks.”“That’sonlymyoutside,”sheinsisted.“InsideI’msomebodyquitedifferent.

It’saveryfunnyfeeling.”“You should have eaten a bigger lunch. Then you wouldn’t have funny

feelings.AndDaddy’snotanIndianChief,soyoucan’tbeMinnehaha!”

Hegaveasuddenstartashespokeandpeeredmorecloselyintothegrass.“Therehegoes!”heshoutedwildly,wrigglingforwardonhisstomachand

thumpinghistoes.“I’ll thank you,Michael,” saidMary Poppins, “to stop kicking my shins.

Whatareyou–aPerformingHorse?”“Notahorse,ahunter,MaryPoppins!I’mtrackinginthejungle!”“Jungles!”scoffedtheParkKeeper.“Myvoteisforsnowywastes!”“If you’re not careful, Michael Banks, you’ll be tracking home to bed. I

never knew such a silly pair. And you’re the third,” snapped Mary Poppins,eyeingtheParkKeeper.“Alwayswantingtobesomethingelseinsteadofwhatyou are. If it’s notMissMinne-what’s-her-name, it’s this or that or the other.You’reasbadastheGoose-girlandtheSwineherd!”

“Butitisn’tgeeseorswineI’mafter.It’salion,MaryPoppins.Hemaybeonlyanantontheoutsidebutinside–ah,atlast,I’vegothim!–insidehe’saman-eater!”

Michael rolled over, red in the face, holding something small and blackbetweenhisfingerandthumb.

“Jane,”hebeganinaneagervoice.Butthesentencewasneverfinished.ForJanewasmakingsignstohim,andasheturnedtoMaryPoppinsheunderstoodtheirmeaning.

Herknittinghadfallenon the rugandherhands layfolded inher lap.Shewaslookingatsomethingfaraway,beyondtheLane,beyondthePark,perhapsbeyondthehorizon.

Carefully, soasnot todisturbher, thechildrencrept toher side.TheParkKeeperplumpedhimselfdownontherugandstaredather,goggle-eyed.

“Yes,MaryPoppins?”promptedJane.“TheGoose-girl–tellusabouther!”Michaelpressedagainstherskirtandwaitedexpectantly.Hecouldfeelher

legs,bonyandstrong,beneaththecoolbluelinen.Fromunder theshadowofherhatsheglancedat themforashortmoment

andlookedawayagain.“Well, there she sat,” she began gravely, speaking in the soft accents that

weresounlikeherusualvoice.“Thereshesat,dayafterday,amidherflockofgeese,braidingherhairand

unbraidingitforlackofsomethingtodo.Sometimesshewouldpickafernandwaveitbeforeher likeafan, thewaytheLordChancellor’swifemightdo,oreventheQueen,maybe.

“Or again, shewouldweave a necklace of flowers and go to the brook to

admireit.Andeverytimeshedidthatshenoticedthathereyeswereblue–bluerthananyperiwinkle–andhercheekslikethebreastofarobin.Asforhermouth–nottomentionhernose!–heropinionofthesewassohighshehadnowordsfittodescribethem.”

“She sounds like you, Mary Poppins,” said Michael. “So terribly pleasedwithherself!”

Herglancecamedartingfromthehorizonandflickeredathimfiercely.“Imean,MaryPoppins—”hebegantostammer.Hadhebrokenthethread

ofthestory?“Imean,”hewentonflatteringly,“you’vegotpinkcheeksandblueeyestoo.

Likelollipopsandbluebells.”Aslowsmileofsatisfactionmeltedherangrylook,andMichaelgaveasigh

ofreliefasshetookupthetaleagain.

Well, she went on, there was the brook, and there was the Goose-girl’sreflection. And each time she looked at it she was sorry for everyone in theworld who was missing such a spectacle. And she pitied in particular thehandsomeSwineherdwhoherdedhisflockontheothersideofthestream.

“If only,” she thought lamentingly, “Iwere not the person I am! If Iweremerely what I seem, I could then invite him over. But since I am somethingmorethanagoose-girl,itwouldnotberightorproper.”

Andreluctantlysheturnedherbackandlookedintheotherdirection.Shewouldhavebeensurprised,perhaps,hadsheknownwhattheSwineherd

wasthinking.Hetoo,forlackofalooking-glass,madeuseofthelittleriver.Andwhenit

reflectedhisdarkcurls, and thecurveofhischinandhiswell-shapedears,hegrievedforthewholehumanrace,thinkingofallitwasmissing.AndespeciallyhegrievedfortheGoose-girl.

“Undoubtedly,”hetoldhimself,“sheisdyingofloneliness–sittingthereinhershabbydress,braidingheryellowhair.Itisveryprettyhairtoo,and–butforthefact thatIamwho Iam–Iwouldwillinglyspeakawordtoherandwhileawaythetime.”

Andreluctantlyheturnedhisbackandlookedintheotherdirection.What a coincidence, youwill say!But there’smore to the story than that.

NotonlytheGoose-girlandtheSwineherd,buteverycreatureinthatplacewasthinkingthesamethoughts.

Thegeese, as theynibbled thebuttercups and flattened thegrass into star-

like shapes, were convinced – and they made no secret of it – they weresomethingmorethangeese.

Andtheswinewouldhavelaughedatanysuggestionthattheyweremerelypigs.

AndsoitwaswiththegreyAsswhopulledtheSwineherd’scarttomarket;andtheToadwholivedbesidethestream,underoneofthestepping-stones;andthebarefootBoywiththeToyMonkeywhoplayedonthebridgeeveryday.

Each believed that his real selfwas infinitely greater and grander than theonetobeseenwiththenakedeye.

Around his little shaggy body, the Ass was confident, a lordlier, finer,sleekershapekickeditshoovesinthedaisies.

TotheToad,however,histrueselfwassmallerthanhisoutwardshape,andvery gay and green.Hewould gaze for hours at his reflection, but, ugly as ittrulywas,thesightneverdepressedhim.

“That’s onlymyoutside,” hewould say, nodding at hiswrinkled skin andyellowbulgingeyes.ButhekepthisoutsideoutofsightwhentheBoywasonthebridge.Forhedreadedthecursesthatgreetedhimifheshowedasmuchasatoe.

“Heaveto!”theferociousvoicewouldcry.“Enemysightedtostarboard!Abottleofrumandanewdaggertothemanwhoripshimapart!”

For the Boy was something more than a boy – as you’ll probably haveguessed.Inside,heknewtheStraitsofMagellanasyouknowthenoseonyourface.Honestmarinerspaledathisfame,hisdeedswereabywordinsevenseas.Hecouldsackadozenshipsinamorningandburythetreasuresocleverlythatevenhecouldnotfindit.

Toapasser-byitmighthaveseemedthattheBoyhadtwogoodeyes.Butinhisownprivateopinion,hewasonlypossessedofone.Hehadlosttheotherinahand-to-hand fight somewhere offGibraltar.His everyday name alwaysmadehim smilewhen people called him by it. “If they knewwho I really am,” hewouldsay,“theywouldn’tlooksocheerful!”

AsfortheMonkey,hebelievedhewasnothinglikeamonkey.“Thisoldfurcoat,”heassuredhimself,“issimplytokeepmewarm.AndI

swingbymytailforthefunofit,notbecauseImust.”Well, there they all were, one afternoon, full of their fine ideas. The sun

spreadoverthemlikeafan,verywarmandcosy.Themeadowflowershungontheirstems,brightasnewlywashedchina.Upintheskythelarksweresinging–onandon,songwithoutend,asthoughtheywereallwoundup.

TheGoose-girlsatamonghergeese,theSwineherdwithhisswine.TheAssinhisfield,andtheToadinhishole,werenoddingsleepily.AndtheBoyandhisMonkeylolledonthebridgediscussingtheirfurtherplansforbloodshed.

SuddenlytheAsssnortedandhiseargaveaquestioningtwitch.Larkswereaboveandthebrookbeneath,butheheardamongthesedailysoundstheechoofafootstep.

Alongthepaththatledtothestreamaraggedmanwaslounging.Histatteredclothesweresooldthatyoucouldn’tfindonebitofthemthatwasn’ttiedwithstring.Thebrimofhishatframedafacethatwasrosyandmildinthesunlight,andthroughthebrimhishairstuckupintuftsofgreyandsilver.Hisstepswerealternately light and heavy, for one foot wore an old boot and the other abedroomslipper.Youwouldhavetolookforalongtimetofindashabbierman.

Buthisshabbinessseemednottotroublehim–indeedheappearedtoenjoyit. For hewandered along contentedly, eating a crust and a pickled onion andwhistling between mouthfuls. Then he spied the group in the meadow, andstared,andhistunebrokeoffinthemiddle.

“Abeautifulday!”hesaidpolitely,pluckingthehat-brimfromhisheadandbowingtotheGoose-girl.

She gave him a haughty, tossing glance, but the Tramp did not seem tonoticeit.

“Youtwobeenquarrelling?”heasked,jerkinghisheadattheSwineherd.The Goose-girl laughed indignantly. “Quarrelling? What a silly remark!

Why,Idonotevenknowhim!”“Well,” said the Tramp, with a cheerful smile, “would you like me to

introduceyou?”“Certainly not!” She flung up her head. “How could I associate with a

Swineherd?I’maprincessindisguise.”“Indeed?”saidtheTramp,lookingverysurprised.“Ifthatisthecase,Imust

notdetainyou.IexpectyouwanttobebackatthePalace,gettingonwithyourwork.”

“Work?Whatwork?”TheGoose-girlstared.Itwasnowher turn to looksurprised.Surelyprincessessatuponcushions,

withslavestoperformtheirleastcommand.“Why, spinning and weaving. And etiquette! Practising patience and

cheerfulnesswhileunsuitablesuitorsbegforyourhand.Tryingtolookasifyouliked itwhenyouhear, for thehundred-thousandth time, theKing’s threesillyriddles!Notmanyprincesses–asyoumustknow–haveleisuretositalldayin

thesunamongahandfulofgeese!”“Butwhat aboutwearing a pearly crown?And dancing till dawnwith the

Sultan’sson?”“Dancing? Pearls? Oh, my! Oh,my!” A burst of laughter broke from the

Tramp,ashetookfromhissleeveapieceofsausage.“Thosecrownsareasheavyasleadoriron.You’dhavearidgeinyourhead

in no time.And a princess’s duty – surely you know? – is to dancewith herfather’soldfriendsfirst.ThentheLordChamberlain.ThentheLordChancellor.And,ofcourse,theKeeperoftheSeal.BythetimeyougetroundtotheSultan’sson,it’slateandhe’shadtogohome.”

TheGoose-girlponderedtheTramp’swords.Couldhereallybespeakingthetruth?All thegoose-girls inall thestorieswereprincesses indisguise.Butoh,howdifficultitsounded!WhatdidonesaytoLordChamberlains?“Comehere!”“Gothere!”asonewouldtoagoose?Spinningandweaving!Etiquette!

Perhaps, taking everything into account, itmight be better, theGoose-girlthought,simplytobeagoose-girl.

“Well, away to thePalace!” theTramp advised her. “You’rewasting yourtimesittinghere,youknow!Don’tyouagree?”hecalledtotheSwineherd,whowaslisteningfromhissideofthestream.

“Agreewithwhat?”saidtheSwineherdquickly,asthoughhehadn’theardaword. “I never concern myself with goose-girls,” he added untruthfully. “Itwouldnotbefittingorsuitable.Iamaprinceindisguise!”

“Youare?”criedtheTrampadmiringly.“Thenyou’reoccupyingyourtime,Isuppose,ingettingupmuscletofighttheDragon.”

The Swineherd’s damask cheek grew pale. “What dragon?” he asked in astifledvoice.

“Oh,anythatyouchancetomeet.Allprinces,asyouyourselfmustknow,havetofightatleastonedragon.Thatiswhatprincesarefor.”

“Two-headed?”enquiredtheSwineherd,gulping.“Two?”criedtheTramp.‘Seven,youmean!Two-headeddragonsarequite

outofdate.”The Swineherd felt his heart thump. Suppose, in spite of all the stories,

insteadoftheprincekillingthemonster,themonstershouldkilltheprince?Hewasnot,youunderstand,afraid.Buthewonderedwhether,afterall,hewerenotasimpleswineherd.

“Afinelotofporkersyou’vegotthere!”TheTrampglancedappreciativelyfromtheswinetohispieceofsausage.

Asnortofdisgustwentupfromtheherd.Araggedytramptobecallingthemporkers!

“Perhapsyouarenotaware,”theygrunted,“thatwearesheepindisguise!”“Oh, dear!” said the Tramp, with a doleful air. “I’m sorry for you, my

friends!”“Whyshouldyoubesorry?”demandedtheswine,stickingtheirsnoutsinthe

air.“Why?Surelyyouknowthatthepeoplehereareextremelypartialtomutton!

Iftheyknewtherewasaflockofsheep–howeverdisguised–inthismeadow—”He broke off, shaking his head and sighing.Then he searched among histatteredrags,discoveredapieceofplumcakeandmuncheditsombrely.

The swine, aghast, looked at each other.Mutton – what a frightful word!Theyhadthoughtofthemselvesasgracefullambsprancingforeverinfieldsofflowers – never as legs of mutton.Would it not be wiser, they cogitated, todecidetobemerelypigs?

“Here,goosey-ganders!”chirruped theTramp.He tossedhiscrumbs to theGoose-girl’sflock.

Thegeese,asonebird,raisedtheirheadsandletoutasnake-likehiss.“We’reswans!”theycackledinhigh-pitchedchorus.Andthen,ashedidnot

seemtobelievethem,theyaddedtheword,“Disguised!”“Well, if that’s the case,” the Tramp remarked, “you won’t be here very

long.All swans, asyouknow,belong to theKing.Dearme,what luckybirdsyou are! You will swim on the ornamental lake, and courtiers with goldenscissorswill clip your flying feathers. Strawberry jam on silver plateswill begivenyoueverymorning.Andnotacareintheworldwillyouhave–noteventhetroubleofhatchingyoureggs,fortheseHisMajestyeatsforbreakfast.”

“What!”criedthegeese.“Nogrubs?Nogoslings?”“Certainly not!But think of the honour!”TheTramp chuckled and turned

away,bumpingintoashaggyshapethatwasstandingamongthedaisies.Thegeesestoodrigidinthegrass,staringateachother.Strawberryjam!Clippedwings!Nohatchingseason!Couldtheyhavemade

amistake,theywondered?Weretheynot,afterall,justgeese?FromsomethingthatoncehadbeenapockettheTrampextractedanapple.“Pardon, friend!”hesaid to theAss,ashe tooka juicybite.“I’dofferyou

half–butyoudon’tneedit.You’veallthisbuttercupfield.”The Ass surveyed the scene with distaste. “It may be all very well for

donkeys,butdon’t imagine,”he remarked,“that I’msuchanassas I look.As

youmaybeinterestedtoknow,I’manArabsteedindisguise!”“Indeed?”TheTramplookedveryimpressed.“Howyoumustlong,ifthatis

so,forthecountryofyourbirth.Sandstorms!Mirages!Waterlessdeserts!”“Waterless?”TheAsslookedanxious.“Well,practically.Butthat’snothingtoyou.ThewayyouArabanimalscan

liveforweeksonnothing–nothingtoeat,nothingtodrink,nowheretosleep–it’swonderful!”

“Butwhataboutallthoseoases?Surelygrassgrowsthere?”“Fewandfarbetween,”saidtheTramp.“Butwhatofthat,myfriend?Thelessyoueatthefasteryougo!Thelessyoudrinkthelighteryouare!It

onlytakesyouhalfajiffytoflingyourselfdownandshelteryourmasterwhenhisenemiesattack!”

“But,”criedtheAss,“inthatcase,Ishouldbeshotatfirst!”“Naturally,”theTrampreplied.“That’swhyoneadmiresyouso–younoble

Arabsteeds.You’rereadytodieatanymoment!”The Ass rubbed his forehead against his leg.Was he ready to die at any

moment?HecouldnothonestlyanswerYes.Weeksandweekswithnothingtoeat! And here the buttercups and daisies were enough for a dozen asses. HemightindeedbeanArabsteed–butthenagain,hemightn’t.Upanddownwenthisshaggyheadasheponderedthedifficultproblem.

“That’s for you, old Natterjack!” The Tramp tossed the core of his appleunderthestepping-stone.

“Don’tcallmeNatterjack!”snappedtheToad.“Puddocky,then,ifyoupreferit!”“Thosearethenamesonegivestotoads.Iamafrogindisguise.”“Oh,happycreature!”theTrampexclaimed.“Sittingonlily-leavesallnight,

singingasongtothemoon.”“Allnight?I’dtakemydeathofcold!”“Catchingspidersanddragon-fliesforthelady-frogofyourchoice!”“Noneformyself?”theToadenquired.“A frog that would a-wooing go – and you are certainly such a one! –

wouldn’twanttocatchforhimself!”TheToadwas, however, not so sure.He liked a juicy spider.Hewas just

deciding,afterall,thathemightaswellbeatoad,when–plop!–wentapebblerightbesidehimandhehurriedlypoppedinhishead.

“Whothrewthat?”saidtheTrampquickly.“Idid,”cametheanswerfromthebridge.“Nottohithim!Justtomakehim

jump!”“Goodboy!”TheTramp lookedupwithasmile.“Afine, friendly lad like

youwouldn’thurtatoad!”“OfcourseIwouldn’t.Oranythingelse.Butdon’tyoucallmeboyor lad.

I’mreallya—”“Wait!Don’ttellme!Letmeguess!AnIndian?No–apirate!”“That’s right!” said the Boy, with a curt nod, showing all the gaps in his

teethinaterriblepiratesmile.“Ifyouwanttoknowmyname,”hesnarled,“justcallmeOne-eyedCorambo!”

“Gotyourcutlass?”theTrampenquired.“Yourskullandcrossbones?Yourblack silk mask?Well, I shouldn’t hang about here any longer! Landlubbersaren’tworthrobbing!SetyourcourseawayfromtheNorth.MakeforTierradelFuego.”

“Beenthere,”theBoysaidloftily.“Well,anyotherplaceyou like–nopirate lingers longon land.Haveyou

been–”theTramploweredhisvoice–“haveyoubeentoDeadMan’sDrop?”TheBoysmiledandshookhishead.“That’stheplaceforme,”hecried,reachingforhismonkey.“I’lljustgoand

saygoodbyetomymotherand–”“Your mother! Did I hear aright? One-eyed Corambo hopping off to say

goodbyetohismother!Apiratecaptainwastingtimebyrunninghome–well,really!”theTrampwasovercomewithamusement.

TheBoy looked at himdoubtfully.Where, hewondered,wasDeadMan’sDrop? How long would it take him to go and come? His mother would beanxious. And apart from that – as he’d reason to know – she was makingpancakes for supper. It might be better, just for today, to be his outer self.Corambocouldwaituntiltomorrow,Corambowasalwaysthere.

“Takingyourmonkeyalongasamascot?”TheTramplookedquizzicallyatthetoy.

He was answered by an angry squeal. “Don’t you call me a monkey!” itjabbered.“I’malittleboyindisguise!”

“Aboy!”criedtheTramp.“Andnotatschool?”“School?” said the Monkey nervously. “ ‘Two and two make five,’ you

mean,andallthatsortofthing?”“Exactly,” said the Tramp gravely. “You’d better hurry along now before

they find you’re missing. Here!” He scrabbled among his rags, drew twochocolatesfromunderhiscollar,andofferedonetotheMonkey.

Butthelittlecreatureturneditsback.School–hehadn’tbargainedforthat.Better,anydayoftheweek,tobeamoth-eatenmonkey.Hefeltasuddenrushofloveforhisoldfurcoatandhisglasseyesandhiswrinkledjungletail.

“You take it,Corambo!”TheTrampgrinned. “Pirates are alwayshungry.”HehandedonechocolatetotheBoyandatetheotherhimself.

“Well,”hesaid,lickinghislips,“timefliesandsomustI!”Heglancedroundatthelittlegroupandgaveacheerfulnod.

“Solong!”Hesmiledatthemrosily.Andthrustinghishandsamonghisrags,hebroughtoutapieceofbreadandbutter,andsaunteredawayacrossthebridge.

The Boy gazed after him thoughtfully, with a line across his brow. Thensuddenlyhethrewuphishand.

“Hey!”hecried.TheTramppaused.“Whatisyourname?Younevertoldus!Whoareyou?”saidtheBoy.“Yes,indeed!”cameascoreofvoices.“Whoareyou?”theGoose-girlasked;

andtheSwineherd,thegeese,theswineandtheAssechoedtheeagerquestion.EventheToadputouthisheadanddemanded:“Whoareyou?”

“Me?” cried the Tramp, with an innocent smile. “If you really want toknow,”hesaid,“I’manangelindisguise.”

Hebowedtothemamidhistattersandwavedasheturnedaway.“Ha,ha,ha!Ajollygoodjoke!”TheBoyburstintoapealoflaughter.Jug-jug-jug!inhisthroatitwent.That

tatteredoldthinganangel!Butsuddenlythelaughceased.TheBoystared,screweduphiseyes,looked

againandstared.TheTrampwas skipping along the road, hopping for joy, it seemed.Each

timeheskippedhisfeetwenthigher,andtheearth–coulditreallybetrue?theBoywondered–wasfallingawaybeneathhim.Nowhewasskimmingthetopsofthedaisiesandpresentlyhewasoverthehedge,skippinghigherandhigher.Up,uphewentandclearedthewoodland,plumbingthedepthsofthesky.Thenhespreadhimselfonthesunnyairandstretchedhisarmsandlegs.

Andashedid so the tattered rags flutteredalonghisback.Something, thewatchersclearlysaw,waspushingthemaside.

Then, feather by feather, from under each shoulder, a broad grey pinionshowed.Outandoutthebigplumesstretched,oneithersideoftheTramp,untilhe was only a tattered scrap between his lifting wings. They flapped for amomentabovethetrees,balancingstronglyagainsttheair,thenwithasweeping

sea-gullmovementtheyborehimupandaway.“Oh,dear!Oh,dear!”theGoose-girlsighed,knittingherbrowsinafrown.

FortheTramphadputherinanawkwardpredicament.Shewasalmost–ifnotquite–convincedshewasnot thedaughterofaKing,andnow–well lookathim!All those feathers under his rags! If hewas an angel, what was she?Agoose-girl–orsomethinggrander?

Hermindwaswhirling.Whichwastrue?Shakingherheadinbewilderment,sheglancedacross thestreamat theSwineherd,andthesightofhimmadeherburstoutlaughing.Really,shecouldn’thelpit.

There he sat, gazing up at the sky, with his curls standing on end withsurprise,andhiseyesasroundassoup-plates.

“Ahem!” She gave a delicate cough. “Perhaps it will not be necessary tofighttheDragonnow!”

He turned to her with a startled look. Then he saw that she was smilinggentlyandhisfacesuddenlycleared.Helaughedandleaptacrossthestream.

“Youshallhaveyourgoldencrown,”hecried.“I’llmakeitforyoumyself!”“Goldistooheavy,”shesaiddemurely,behindherfernyfan.“Not my kind of gold.” The Swineherd smiled. He gathered a handful of

buttercups,wovethemintoalittlewreathandsetitonherhead.And from that moment the question that was once so grave – were they

goose-girl and swineherd, or prince and princess? – seemed to them not tomatter.Theysattheregazingateachother,forgettingeverythingelse.

Thegeese,whowerealsoquiteamazed,glancedfromthefadingspeckintheskytotheirneighboursinthemeadow.

“Poorpigs!”theymurmuredmockingly.“Roastmuttonwithonionsauce!”“You’lllookprettyfoolish,”theswineretorted,“onanornamentallake!”But though they spoke harshly to each other, they could not help feeling,

privately,thattheTramphadputtheminaverytightcorner.Thenanoldgoosegaveahigh-pitchedgiggle.“Whatdoesitmatter?”hecackledgaily.“Whateverwearewithinourselves,

atleastwelooklikegeese!”“True!”agreedanelderlypig.“Andwehavetheshapeofswine!”Andatthat,asthoughreleasedfromaburden,theyallbegantolaugh.The

fieldrangwiththeirmingledcriesandthelarkslookeddowninwonder.“Whatdoes itmatter–cackle, cackle!Whatdoes itmatter–ker-onk,ker-

onk!”“Hee-haw!” said theAss, as he flung up his head and joined in themerry

noise.“Thinkingaboutyourfineoasis?”theToadenquiredsarcastically.“Hee-haw!Hee-haw! Iam indeed!Whatanass Iwas,not tosee itbefore.

I’veonly just realised,Natterjack, thatmyoasis isnot in thedesert.Hee-haw!Hee-haw!It’sundermyhoof–hereinthisveryfield.”

“Thenyou’renotanArabsteedafterall?”theToadenquired,withajeer.“Ah,”saidtheAss,“Iwouldn’tsaythat.Butnow–”heglancedattheflying

figure–“I’mcontentwithmydisguise!”He snatched at a buttercup hungrily as though he had galloped a long

distancethroughaleafless,sandyland.TheToadlookedupwithawonderingeye.“Could I be contentwithmy disguise?”Hepondered thequestiongravely.

Andashedidsoahazelnutfell fromabranchabovehim.Ithithisheadandbouncedofflightly,bobbingawayonthestream.

“Thatwould have stunned a frog,” thought the Toad, “but I, inmy hornycoat,feltnothing.”Agratifiedsmile,verylargeandtoothy,splithisfaceinthemiddle.Hethrustouthisheadandcraneditupwards.

“Comeonwithyourpebbles,boy!”hecroaked.“I’vegotmyarmouron!”But the Boy did not hear the puddocky challenge. He was leaning back

againstthebridge,watchingtheTramponhisbroadwingsflyingintothesunset.Notwithsurprise–perhapshewasnotyetoldenoughtobesurprisedatthings–buthiseyeshadalookoflivelyinterest.

Hewatchedandwatchedtilltheskygrewduskyandthefirststarstwinkledout.Andwhen the little flying speckwas no longer even a speck, he drew along,contentedsighandturnedagaintotheearth.

ThathewasCorambo,hedidnotdoubt.Hehadneverdoubtedit.Butnowheknewhewasotherthings,aswellasaone-eyedpirate.Andfaraboveall–herejoiced at it – he was just a barefoot boy. And, moreover, a boy who wasfeelingpeckishandreadyforhissupper.

“Comeon!”hecalled to theToyMonkey.He tucked it comfortablyunderhisarm,withitstailaroundhiswrist.Andthetwoofthemkepteachotherwarmastheywanderedhometogether.

Thelongdayfellawaybehindhimtojoinhisotherdays.Allhecouldthinkof nowwas the night. He could sense already thewarmth of the kitchen, thesizzling pancakes on the stove and hismother bending above them.Her face,framedinitsringofcurls,wouldberuddyandweary–likethesun.For,indeed,ashehadmanytimestoldher,thesunhasamother’sface.

And presently, there hewas on the doorstep and therewas she as he hadpictured her. He leant against her checked apron and broke off a piece ofpancake.

“Well,whathaveyoubeendoing?”shesmiled.“Nothing,”hemurmuredcontentedly.Forheknew–andperhapssheknewittoo–thatnothingisausefulword.It

canmeanexactlywhatyoulike–anything–everything...

Theendofthestorydiedaway.MaryPoppinssatstillandsilent.Around her lay themotionless children,making never a sound. Her gaze,

comingbackfromthefarhorizon,flickeredacrosstheirquietfacesandovertheheadoftheParkKeeper,asitnoddeddreamily.

“Humph!”sheremarked,withahaughtysniff.“Irecountachapterofhistoryandyouallfallfastasleep!”

“I’mnotasleep,”Janereassuredher.“I’mthinkingaboutthestory.”“Iheardeveryword,”saidMichael,yawning.The Park Keeper rocked, as if in a trance. “A Nexplorer in disguise,” he

murmured,“sittin’inthemidnightsunandclimbin’theNorthPole!”“Ouch!”criedMichael,startingup.“Ifeltadroponmynose!”“AndIfeltoneonmychin,”saidJane.They rubbed their eyes and looked about them. The syrupy sun had

disappearedandacloudwascreepingoverthePark.Plop!Plop!Patter,patter!Thebigdropsdrummedontheleaves.

TheParkKeeperopenedhiseyesandstared.“It’srainin’!”hecriedinastonishment.“Andmewithnoumbrella!”Heglancedatthedanglingshapeontheboughanddartedtowardstheparrot.“Oh,no,youdon’t!”saidMaryPoppins.Quickasaneedle,shegraspedthe

handle.“I’vealongwaytogoandmechestisbadandIoughtn’ttowetmefeet!”

TheParkKeepergaveherapleadingglance.“Then you’d better not go to the North Pole!” She snapped the parrot

umbrella open and gathered up Annabel. “The Equator – that’s the place foryou!”Sheturnedawaywithasnortofcontempt.

“Wake up, John and Barbara, please! Jane andMichael, take the rug andwrapitroundyourselvesandtheTwins.”

Raindrops bigger than sugar-plums were tumbling all about them. They

drummedand thumpedon thechildren’sheadsas theywrapped themselves intherug.

“We’re a parcel!” cried Michael excitedly. “Tie us up with string, MaryPoppins,andsendusthroughthepost!”

“Run!”shecommanded,takingnonotice.Andawaytheyhurried,stumblingandtumbling,overtherainygrass.

Thedogs camebarking alongbeside themand, forgetting their promise toMaryPoppins,shookthemselvesoverherskirts.

“Allthatsunandallthisrain!Oneafteranother!Who’d’avethoughtit?”The Park Keeper shook his head in bewilderment. He could still hardly

believeit.“Anexplorerwould!”snappedMaryPoppins.Shegaveherheadasatisfied

toss.“AndsowouldI–sothere!”“Toobig for your boots – that’swhat you are!”TheParkKeeper’swords

were worse than they sounded. For he whispered them into his coat-collar incasesheshouldoverhear.But,evenso,perhapssheguessedthem,forsheflungathimasmileofconceitandtriumphasshehurriedafterthechildren.

Off she tripped through the streaming Park, picking her way among thepuddles. Neat and trim as a fashion-plate she crossed Cherry Tree Lane andflittedupthegardenpathofNumberSeventeen...

*

Janeemergedfromtheplaidbundleandpattedhersoakinghair.“Oh,bother!”shesaid.“I’velostmyfeather.”“Thatsettlesit,then,”saidMichaelcalmly.“Youcan’tbeMinnehaha!”Heunwoundhimselfandfeltinhispocket.“Ah,here’smyant!I’vegothim

safely!”“Oh, I don’t mean Minnehaha, really – but somebody,” persisted Jane,

“somebodyelseinsideme.Iknow.Ialwayshavethefeeling.”Theblackanthurriedacrossthetable.“Idon’t,”Michaelsaid,ashegazedatit.“Idon’tfeelanythinginsidemebut

mydinnerandMichaelBanks.”ButJanewasthinkingherownthoughts.“And Mary Poppins,” she went on. “She’s somebody in disguise too.

Everybodyis.”“Oh,no,she’snot!”saidMichaelstoutly.“I’mabsolutelycertain!”

Alightstepsoundedonthelanding.“Who’snotwhat?”enquiredavoice.“You, Mary Poppins!” Michael cried. “Jane says you’re somebody in

disguise.AndIsayyouaren’t.You’renobody!”Herheadwentupwithaquickjerkandhereyeshadahintofdanger.“Ihope,”shesaid,withawfulcalmness,“that Ididnothearwhat I think I

heard.DidyousayIwasnobody,Michael?”“Yes! Imean–no!”He triedagain.“I reallymeant to say,MaryPoppins,

thatyou’renotreallyanybody!”“Oh, indeed?” Her eyes were now as black as a boot-button. “If I’m not

anybody,Michael,whoamI–I’dliketoknow!”“Oh, dear!” he wailed. “I’m all muddled. You’re not somebody, Mary

Poppins–that’swhatI’mtryingtosay.”Not somebody in her tulip hat! Not somebody in her fine blue skirt! Her

reflection gazed at her from the mirror, assuring her that she and it were anelegantpairofsomebodies.

“Well!” She drew a deep breath and seemed to grow taller as she spoke.“Youhaveoften insultedme,MichaelBanks.But Inever thought Iwouldseethe day when you’d tell me I wasn’t somebody. What am I, then, a paintedportrait?”

Shetookasteptowardshim.“Im-m-mean...”hestammered,clutchingatJane.Herhandwaswarmand

reassuringandthewordshewaslookingforleapttohislips.“Idon’tmeansomebody,MaryPoppins!Imeannotsomebodyelse!You’re

MaryPoppinsthroughandthrough!Insideandoutside.Androundabout.AllofyouisMaryPoppins.ThatishowIlikeyou!”

“Humph!” she saiddisbelievingly.But the fierceness faded away fromherface.

Withalaughofreliefhesprangtowardsher,embracingherwetblueskirt.“Don’tgrabmelikethat,MichaelBanks.I’mnotaDutchDoll,thankyou!”“Youare!”heshouted.“No,you’renot!Youonlylooklikeone.Oh,Mary

Poppins, tellmetruly!Youaren’tanybodyindisguise?Iwantyoujustasyouare!”

Afaint,pleasedsmilepuckeredhermouth.Herheadgaveapridefultoss.“Me!Disguised!Certainlynot!”Withaloudsniffatthemereidea,shedisengagedhishands.“But,MaryPoppins,”Janepersisted.“Supposingyouweren’tMaryPoppins,

whowouldyouchoosetobe?”Theblueeyesunderthetuliphatturnedtoherinsurprise.Therewasonlyoneanswertosuchaquestion.“MaryPoppins!”shesaid.

ChapterTwo

THEFAITHFULFRIENDS

“FASTER,PLEASE!”saidMaryPoppins,tappingontheglasspanelwiththebeakofherparrot-headedumbrella.

Jane and Michael had spent the morning at the Barber’s shop, and theDentist’s,andbecauseitwaslate,asagreattreat,theyweretakingataxihome.

TheTaxiManstaredstraightbeforehimandgavehisheadashake.“IfIgoanyfaster,”heshouted,“it’llmakemelateformedinner.”“Why?”demandedJane,throughthewindow.Itseemedsuchasillythingto

say.Surely,thequickeraTaxiMandrovetheearlierhewouldarrive!”“Why?”echoedtheTaxiMan,keepinghiseyeonthewheel.“ANaccident–

that’swhy!IfIgoanyfaster,I’llrunintosomething–andthat’llbeaNaccident.And aNaccident – it’s plain enough –willmakeme late forme dinner. Oh,dear!”heexclaimed,asheputonthebrake.“Redagain,Isee!”

He turned and put his head through the window. His bulgy eyes anddroopingwhiskersmadehimlooklikeaseal.

“There’s always trouble at these ’ere signals!” He waved his hand at thestreamofcarsallwaitingforthelighttochange.

AndnowitwasMichaelwhoaskedhimwhy.“Don’tyouknownothing?”theTaxiMancried.“It’sbecauseofthechapon

duty!”Hepointedtothesignal-box,whereahelmetedfigure,withhisheadonhis

hand,wasgazingintothedistance.“Absent-minded–that’swhat’eis.Alwaysstaringandmoping.And’alfthe

time’eforgets the lights. I’veknownthemtostayredforawholemorning.Ifit’s goin’ to be like that today, I’ll never get me dinner. You ’aven’t got asangwidgeonyou?”HelookedatMichaelhopefully.“No?Noryetachocolatedrop?”Janesmiledandshookherhead.

TheTaxiMansigheddespondently.“Nobodythinksofnobodythesedays.”“I’mthinkingofsomeone!”saidMaryPoppins.Andshelookedsosternand

disapprovingthatheturnedawayindismay.“They’re green!” he cried, as he looked at the lights. And, huddling

nervously over thewheel, he drove along ParkAvenue as though pursued bywolves.

Bump!Bump!Rattle!Rattle!Thethreeofthemjoltedandbouncedontheirseats.

“Sit up straight!” saidMaryPoppins, sliding into a corner. “Youarenot acoupleofJack-in-the-boxes!”

“IknowI’mnot,”saidMichael,gasping.“ButIfeellikeoneandmybonesare shaking—” He gulped quickly and bit his tongue and left the sentenceunfinished.For the taxihadstoppedwitha frightful jerkandflung themall tothefloor.

“MaryPoppins,”saidJaneinamuffledvoice,“Ithinkyou’resittingonme!”“Myfoot!Myfoot!It’scaughtinsomething!”“I’llthankyou,Michael!”saidMaryPoppins,“totakeitoutofmyhat!”Sherosemajesticallyfromthefloor,andseizingherparrot-headedumbrella

sprangoutontothepavement.“Well,yousaidtogofaster,”theTaxiManmuttered,asshethrustthefare

intohishand.Sheglaredathiminoffendedsilence.Andinordertoescapethatlookhe shrankhimself down inside his collar so that nothingwas left but hiswhiskers.

“Don’tbotheraboutatip,”hebegged.“It’sreallybeenap-p-pleasure.”“Ihadnointentionofbothering!”SheopenedthegateofNumberSeventeen

withanangryflickofherhand.TheTaxiManstarteduphisengineandjerkedawaydowntheLane.“She’s

upsetme,that’swhatshe’sdone!”hemurmured.“IfIdogethomeintimeformedinner,Ishan’tbeabletoeatit!”

MaryPoppinstrippedupthepath,followedbyJaneandMichael.MrsBanksstoodinthefronthall,lookingupatthestairs.“Oh, do be careful, Robertson Ay!” she was saying anxiously. He was

carrying a cardboard box and lurching slowly from stair to stair as though hewerealmostasleep.

“Neveramoment’speace!”hemuttered.“Firstit’sonething,thenanother.There!”Hegaveasleepyheave,thrustthepackageintotheNurseryandfellinasnoringheaponthelanding.

Janedashedupstairstolookatthelabel.“What’sinit–apresent?”shoutedMichael.

The Twins, bursting with curiosity, were jumping up and down. AndAnnabelpeeredthroughhercotrailingsandbangedherrattleloudly.

“IsthisaNurseryoraBear-pit?”MaryPoppinssteppedoverRobertsonAyasshehurriedintotheroom.

“A Bear-pit!” Michael longed to answer. But he caught her eye andrefrained.

“Really!” Mrs Banks protested, as she stumbled over Robertson Ay. “Hechoosessuchinconvenientplaces!Oh,gently,children!Dobecareful!ThatboxbelongstoMissAndrew!”

MissAndrew!Theirfacesfell.“Thenitisn’tpresents!”saidMichaelblankly.Hegavetheboxapush.“It’sprobablyfullofmedicinebottles!”saidJaneinabittervoice.“It’snot,” insistedMrsBanks.“MissAndrewhas sentusallher treasures.

AndIthought,MaryPoppins–”sheglancedatthestiffwhiteshapebesideher–“I thought, perhaps, you could keep them here!” She nodded towards themantelpiece.

Mary Poppins regarded her in silence. If a pin had fallen you could haveheardit.

“AmIanoctopus?”sheenquired,findinghervoiceatlast.“Anoctopus?”criedMrsBanks.Hadsheeversuggestedsuchathing?“Of

courseyou’renot,MaryPoppins.”“Exactly!”MaryPoppinsretorted.“Ihaveonlyonepairofhands.”MrsBanksnoddeduneasily.Shehadneverexpectedhertohavemore.“Andthatonepairhasenoughtodowithoutdustinganyone’streasures.”“But,MaryPoppins, Ineverdreamed—”MrsBankswasgettingmoreand

moreflustered.“Ellenisheretodothedusting.Andit’sonlyuntilMissAndrewcomesback– if,ofcourse, sheeverdoes.Shebehavedsostrangelywhenshewashere.Whyareyougiggling,Jane?”

But Janeonly snickeredand shookherhead.She remembered that strangebehaviour.

“Wherehasshegoneto?”Michaelasked.“She seems to havehad some sort of a shock–what are you laughing at,

children?–andthedoctorhasordereda longvoyage,awayto theSouthSeas.She says. . .”Mrs Banks fished into her pocket and brought out a crumpledletter.

“AndwhileIamaway,’”shereadout,“‘Ishallleavemyvaluableswithyou.

Besuretheyareputinasafeplacewherenothingcanhappentothem.Ishallexpect, onmy return, to find everything exactly as it is – nothing broken,nothing mended. Tell George to wear his overcoat. This weather ischangeable.’”

“Soyou see,MaryPoppins,” saidMrsBanks, lookingupwith a flatteringsmile, “theNursery does seem the best place.Anything left in your charge isalwaysperfectlysafe!”

“There’ssafetyandsafety!”sniffedMaryPoppins.“AndIhopeIseefurtherthanmynose!”Itwastiltedupwards,asshespoke,evenmorethanusual.

“Oh,Iamsureyoudo!”murmuredMrsBanks,wondering,forthehundredthtime,whyMaryPoppins–nomatterwhatthesituation–wasalwayssopleasedwithherself.

“Well,nowIthinkImustgoand—”Butwithoutsayingwhatshewasgoingtodo,sheranoutoftheNursery,jumpedoverRobertsonAy’slegsandbustledawaydownthestairs.

“Allowme,Michael, if you please!”MaryPoppins seized hiswrist, as hepulledthelidoffthebox.“Rememberwhatcuriositydid–itkilledthecat,youknow!”

Her quick hands darted among the papers, and briskly unwrapped a littlebundle.OutcameachippednoseandaChelseachinalamb.

“Funnysortoftreasures,”saidMichael.“Icouldmendthisbirdwithapieceofputty.ButImustn’t–soMissAndrewsaid.They’re tostayexactlyas theyare.”

“Nothingdoesthat,”saidMaryPoppins,withapriggishlookonherface.“Youdo!”heinsistedgallantly.Shesniffed,andglancedattheNurserymirror.Herreflectiongaveasimilar

sort of sniff and glanced atMary Poppins. Each of them, it was easy to see,highlyapprovedoftheother.

“Iwonderwhyshekept this?” Jane tookanoldcracked tile from thebox.Thepictureshowedaboat-loadofpeoplerowingtowardsanisland.

“Toremindherofheryouth,”saidMichael.“To give more trouble,” snapped Mary Poppins, shaking the dust from

anotherwrapping.Backand forth thechildren ran, collectingand settingup the treasures– a

cottage in a snowstorm,withHomeSweetHome on theglass globe; a potteryhenonayellownest;ared-and-whitechinaclown;awingedhorseofcelluloid,

prancingonitshindlegs;aflowervaseintheshapeofaswan;alittleredfoxofcarvedwood; an egg-shaped piece of polished granite; a painted applewith aboyandagirlplayingtogetherinsideit;andaroughlymade,full-riggedshipinajam-jar.

“Ihopethat’sall,”grumbledMichael.“Themantelpieceiscrowded.”“Onlyonemore,”saidMaryPoppins,asshedrewoutaknobblybundle.A

couple of china ornaments came forth from the paperwrapper.Her eyebrowswentupasshelookedatthemandshegavealittleshrug.ThenshehandedoneeachtoJaneandMichael.

Wearyofrunningbackandforth,theysettheornamentshurriedlyateitherendofthemantelpiece.ThenJanelookedathersandblinkedhereyes.

Achinalion,withhispawonthechestofachinahuntsman,wasrecliningbeneathabananatreewhich,ofcourse,wasalsochina.Themanandtheanimalleant together, smiling blissfully. Never, thought Jane, in all her life, had sheseentwohappiercreatures.

“Heremindsmeofsomebody!”sheexclaimed,asshegazedat thesmilinghuntsman.Suchamanlyfigurehelookedtoo,inhissprucebluejacketandblacktop-boots.

“Yes,”agreedMichael.“Whocanitbe?”Hefrownedashetriedtorecallthename.Thenhelookedathishalfofthe

chinapairandgaveacryofdismay.“Oh,Jane!Whatapity!Mylionhaslosthishuntsman!”Itwastrue.Therestoodanotherbananatree, theresatanotherpaintedlion.

Butintheotherhuntsman’splacetherewasonlyagapofroughenedchina.Allthatremainedofhismanlyshapewasoneblackshinyboot.

“Poorlion!”saidMichael.“Helookssosad!”And,indeed,therewasnodenyingit.Jane’slionwaswreathedinsmiles,but

hisbrotherhadsuchadejectedlookthatheseemedtobealmostintears.“You’llbelookingsadinaminute–unlessyougetreadyforlunch!”MaryPoppins’facewassolikehervoicethattheyrantoobeyherwithouta

word.Buttheycaughtaglimpse,astheyrushedaway,ofherstarchedwhitefigure

standing there, with its arms full of crumpled paper. She was gazing with areflectivesmileatMissAndrew’sbrokentreasure–anditseemedtothemthatherlipsmoved.

MichaelgaveJaneafleetinggrin.“Iexpectshe’sonlysaying‘Humph!’”

ButJanewasnotsosure...

“Let’s go to the swings,” suggestedMichael, as they hurried across the Laneafterlunch.

“Oh,no!TheLake.I’mtiredofswinging.”“Neither swings nor lakes,” saidMary Poppins. “We are taking the Long

Walk!”“Oh,MaryPoppins,”grumbledJane,“theLongWalk’sfartoolong!”“Ican’twalkallthatway,”saidMichael.“I’veeatenmuchtoomuch.”The LongWalk stretched across the Park from the Lane to the Far Gate,

linking the little countrified road to the busy streets they had travelled thatmorning. Itwaswide and straight anduncompromising–not like the narrow,curly paths that led to the Lake, and the Playground. Trees and fountainsborderedit,butitalwaysseemedtoJaneandMichaelatleasttenmilesinlength.

“The Long Walk – or the short walk home! Take your choice!” MaryPoppinswarnedthem.

Michaelwasjustabouttosayhewouldgohome,whenJaneranonahead.“I’llraceyou,”shecried,“tothefirsttree!”Michael could never bear to be beaten. “That’s not fair! You had a good

start!”Andoffhedashedatherheels.“Don’texpectmetokeepupwithyou!Iamnotacentipede!”MaryPoppinssaunteredalong,enjoyingthebalmyair,andassuringherself

thatthebalmyairwasenjoyingMaryPoppins.Howcoulditdootherwise,shethought,whenunderherarmwastheparrot-umbrellaandoverherwristanewblackhandbag?

Theperambulatorcreakedandgroaned.Init,theTwinsandAnnabel,packedascloseasbirdsinanest,wereplayingwiththeblueduck.

“That’scheating,Michael!”grumbledJane.Foraccidentallyonpurpose,hehadpushedherasideandwasrunningpast.

Fromtreetotreetheyracedalong,firstoneaheadandthentheother,eachofthem trying to win. The Long Walk streamed away behind them and MaryPoppinsandtheperambulatorwereonlyspecksinthedistance.

“NexttimeyoupushmeI’llgiveyouapunch!”saidMichael,redintheface.“IfyoubumpintomeagainI’llpullyourhair,Michael!”“Now,now!”theParkKeeperwarnedthemsternly.“ObservetheRules!No

argle-bargling!”Hewasmeanttobesweepingupthetwigs,but,instead,hewaschattingwith

thePoliceman,whowasleaningagainstamaple-tree,whilingawayhistime.Jane and Michael stopped in their tracks. Their race, they were both

surprised to find, had brought them right across the Park and near to the FarGate.

TheParkKeeper lookedat themseverely. “Alwaysargufying!”he said.“IneverdidthatwhenIwasaboy.ButthenIwasaNonlychild,justmeandmepooroldmother. I never ’adnobody toplaywith.You twodon’t knowwhenyou’relucky!”

“Well,Idunno!”thePolicemansaid.“Dependsonhowyoulookatit.Ihadsomeonetoplaywith,youmightsay,butitneverdidmeanygood!”

“Brothers or sisters?”Jane enquired, all her crossness vanishing. She likedthePolicemanverymuch.Andtodayheseemedtoremindherofsomeone,butshecouldn’tthinkwhoitwas.

“Brothers!”thePolicemaninformedher,withoutenthusiasm.“Olderoryounger?”Michaelasked.Where,hewonderedtohimself,hadhe

seenanotherfacelikethat?“Sameage,”repliedthePolicemanflatly.“Thenyoumusthavebeentwins,likeJohnandBarbara!’“Iwastriplets,”thePolicemansaid.“Howlovely!”criedJane,withasighofenvy.“Well, itwasn’tso lovely,not tomymind.Theopposite, I’dsay.‘Egbert,’

mymotherwasalwaysasking, ‘whydon’tyouplaywithHerbertandAlbert?’Butitwasn’tme–itwasthemthatwouldn’t.AlltheywantedwastogototheZoo, and when they came back they’d be animals – tigers tearing about thehouseandlettingonitwasTimbuctoooraroundtheGobiDesert.Ineverwantedtobeatiger.Ilikedplayingbus-conductorsandkeepingthingsneatandtidy.”

“Like ’er!” The Park Keeper waved to a distant fountain where MaryPoppinswasleaningovertoadmirethesetofherhat.

“Like her,” agreed the Policeman, nodding. “Or,” he said, grinning, “thatniceMissEllen.”

“Ellen’snotneat,”protestedMichael.“Herhairstragglesandherfeetaretoobig.”

“Andwhen they grew up,” demanded Jane, “what didHerbert andAlbertdo?”Shelikedtoheartheendofastory.

“Do?”saidthePoliceman,verysurprised.“Whatonetripletdoes,theothersdo.Theyjoinedthepolice,ofcourse!”

“ButIthoughtyouwereallsodifferent!”

“Wewere andweare!” thePolicemanargued. “Seeing ashow I stayed inLondon,andtheywentoff todistant lands.Wantedtobenear the jungle, theysaid,andmixwithgiraffesandleopards.Oneof’em–Herbert–henevercameback. Just sentanote sayingnot toworry. ‘I’mhappy,’he said, ‘and I feel athome!’Andafterthat,neveraword–notevenacardatChristmas.”

“AndwhataboutAlbert?”thechildrenprompted.“Ah–Albert–yes!Hedidcomeback.Afterhemetwithhisaccident.”“Whataccident?”theywantedtoknow.Theywereburningwithcuriosity.“Lorst his foot,” the Policeman answered. “Wouldn’t say how, or why or

where.Nowheworksonthetrafficsignals.Sitsinhisboxandpinesaway.Andsometimes,”ThePolicemanloweredhisvoice.“Sometimesheforgetsthelights.LeavesthematredforawholedaytillLondon’satastandstill!”

Michaelgaveanexcitedskip.“Hemustbetheonewepassedthismorning,intheboxbytheFarGate!”

“That’shimallright!”ThePolicemannodded.“Butwhatishepiningfor?”askedJane.Shewantedeverydetail.“Forthejungle,hekeepsontellingme.Hesayshe’sgotafriendthere!”“Afunnyplaceto’aveafriend!”TheParkKeeperglancedaroundthePark

toseethatallwasinorder.“T’chah!”heexclaimeddisgustedly.“That’sWillerbyupto’istricksagain!

Lookat’imsittin’upthereonthewall!Comedownoutofthat!RemembertheBye-laws! No dogs allowed on the ParkWall. I shall ’ave to speak to MissLark,”hemuttered,“feedin’’imallthatdaintyfood!’E’stwicethesizehewasyesterday!”

“That’snotWilloughby!”saidMichael.“It’samuch,muchlargerdog.”“Itisn’tadogatall!”criedJane.“It’sa—”“Lumme!You’reright!”ThePolicemanstared.“It’snotadog–it’salion!”“Oh, what shall I do?” wailed the Park Keeper. “Nothing like this ever

’appenedbefore,notevenwhenIwasaboy!”“GoandgetsomeonefromtheZoo–itmusthaveescapedfromthere!Here,

youtwo—”thePolicemancried.Hecaughtthechildrenandswungthemuptothetopofanearbyfountain.“YoustaytherewhileIheadoff!”

“Observe the Rules!” shrieked the Park Keeper. “No lions allowed in thePark!”Hegaveonelookatthetawnyshapeandranintheoppositedirection.

TheLionswunghisheadabout,glancingalongCherryTreeLaneandthenacrossthelawns.ThenheleaptfromthewallwithaswiftmovementandmadefortheLongWalk.Hiscurlymaneblewoutinthebreezelikealargelacycollar.

“Take care!” cried Jane to the Policeman, as he darted forwardwith armsoutspread.Itwouldbesadindeed,shefelt,ifthatmanlyfigureweregobbledup.

“Gurrrr!”thePolicemanshoutedfiercely.His voice was so loud and full of warning that everyone in the Parkwas

startled.MissLark,whowasknittingbytheLake,camehurryingtotheLongWalk

withherdogsincloseattendance.“Such a commotion!” she twittered shrilly. “Whatever is thematter?Oh!”

shecried,runningroundinacircle.“WhatshallIdo?It’sawildbeast!SendforthePrimeMinister!”

“Getupatree!”thePolicemanyelled,shakinghisfistattheLion.“Whichtree?Oh,howundignified!”“Thatone!”screamedMichael,wavinghishand.Gulpingandpanting,MissLarkclimbedup,herhaircatchingineverytwig

andherknittingwoolwindingaroundherlegs.“AndrewandWilloughby,comeup,please!”shecalleddownanxiously.But

thedogswerenotgoing to lose theirheads.Theycomposed themselvesat thefootofthetreeandwaitedtoseewhatwouldhappen.

Bythis timeeveryonein theParkhadbecomeawareof theLion.Terrifiedshoutsrangthroughtheairaspeopleswungthemselvesintothebranchesorhidbehindseatsorstatues.

“Call out the Firemen!” they all cried. “Tell the LordMayor! Send for arope!”

ButtheLionnoticednoneofthem.Hecrossedthelawninenormousleaps,makingdirectforthebluesergeshapeoftheOfficeroftheLaw.

“Gurrrr,Isaid!”thePolicemanroared,takingouthisbaton.TheLionmerelytossedhisheadandflunghimselfintoacrouchingposition.

Arippleranthroughallhismusclesashemadereadytospring.“Oh,savehim,somebody!”criedJane,withananxiousglanceatthemanly

figure.“Help!”screamedavoicefromeverytree.“PrimeMinister!”criedMissLarkagain.AndthentheLionsprang.Hespedlikeanarrowthroughtheairandlanded

besidethebigblackboots.“Beoff,Isay!”thePolicemanshouted,inalastprotestingcry.Butashespokeastrangethinghappened.TheLionrolledoveronhisback

andwavedhislegsintheair.

“Just like a kitten,” whispered Michael. But he held Jane’s hand a littletighter.

“Awaywithyou!”thePolicemanbellowed,wavinghisbatonagain.Butasthoughthewordswereassweetasmusic,theLionputoutalongred

tongueandlickedthePoliceman’sboots.“Stopit,Itellyou!Getalongoff!”But the Lion only wagged its tail and, springing up on its hind legs, it

claspedthebluesergejacket.“Help!Oh,help!”thePolicemangasped.“Coming!”croakedahoarsevoice,astheParkKeepercrawledtotheedgeof

theWalkwithanemptyLitter-basketoverhishead.Besidehimcreptasmallthinmanwithabutterflynetinhishand.“IbroughttheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardens!”theParkKeeperhissedat

the Policeman. “Go on!” he urged the littleman. “It’s your property – take itaway!”

TheKeeperof theZoologicalGardensdartedbehinda fountain.He tookacarefullookattheLionasithuggedthedarkbluewaist.

“Notoneofours!”Heshookhishead.“It’sfartooredandcurly.Seemstoknowyou!”hecalledtothePoliceman.“Whatareyou–alion-tamer?”

“Neversawhimbeforeinmylife!”Theheadinthehelmetturnedaside.“Oh, wurra! wurra!” the Lion growled, in a voice that held a note of

reproach.“WillnobodysendforthePrimeMinister?”MissLark’svoiceshrilledfrom

hermaplebough.“Ihavebeensentfor,mydearmadam!”avoiceobservedfromthenexttree.

Anelderlygentlemaninstripedtrouserswasscramblingintothebranches.“Thendosomething!”orderedMissLarkinafrenzy.“Shoo!”saidthePrimeMinisterearnestly,wavinghishatattheLion.ButtheLionbareditsteethinagrinasithuggedthePolicemancloser.“Now,what’sthetrouble?Whosentforme?”criedaloud,impatientvoice.TheLordMayorhurriedalongtheWalkwithhisAldermenathisheels.“Good gracious!What are you doing, Smith?”He stared in disgust at the

ParkKeeper. “Comeout of that basket and standup straight! It is there to beusedforlitter,Smith,andnotsomefoolishgame.”

“I’musin’itforarmour,YourWorship!There’salioninthePark!”“Alion,Smith?Whatnonsenseyoutalk!ThelionsareintheZoo!”“Alion?”echoedtheAldermen.“Ha,ha!Whatasillystory!”

“It’s true!” yelled Jane andMichael at once. “Look out! He’s just behindyou!”

Thethreeportlyfiguresturned,andtheirfacesgrewpaleasmarble.TheLordMayorwavedafeeblehandatthetremblingAldermen.“Getmewater!Wine!HotMilk!”hemoaned.ButforoncetheAldermendisobeyed.Hotmilk,indeed!theyseemedtosay

as they dragged him to the Prime Minister’s tree and pushed him into thebranches.

“Police!Police!”theLordMayorcried,catchingholdofabough.“I’mhere,YourHonour!”thePolicemanpanted,pushingawayatawnypaw.ButtheLiontookthisforamarkofaffection.“Gurrrrumph!”hesaidinahuskyvoice,asheclaspedthePolicemantighter.“Oh,dear!Oh,dear!”MissLarkwailed.“Hasnobodygotagun?”“Adagger!Asword!Acrowbar!”criedthevoicesfromeverytree.TheParkwasringingwithshoutsandscreams.TheParkKeeperrattledhis

stick on the Litter-basket. “Yoo-hoo!” cried the Keeper of the ZoologicalGardenstodistracttheLion’sattention.TheLionwasgrowling.ThePolicemanwasyelling.TheLordMayorandtheAldermenwerestillcrying“Police!”

Thensuddenlyasilence fell.Andaneat, trimfigureappearedon thepath.Straightonshecame,asashipintoport,withtheperambulatorwheelingbeforeherandthetulipstandingupstiffonherhat.

Creakwentthewheels.Tapwenthershoes.And the watching faces grew pale with horror as she tripped towards the

Lion.“Goback,MaryPoppins!”screamedMissLark,breakingtheawfulsilence.

“Saveyourselfandthelittleones!There’sawildbeastdownonthepath!’MaryPoppinslookedupatMissLark’sfaceasithunglikeafruitamongthe

leaves.“Goback?WhenI’veonlyjustcomeout?”Shesmiledasuperiorsmile.“Away! Away!” The Prime Minister warned her. “Take care of those

children,woman!”Mary Poppins gave him a glance so icy that he felt himself freeze to the

bough.“Iamtakingcareofthesechildren,thankyou.Andasforthewildbeasts,”

Shegaveasniff.“Theyseemtobeallinthetrees!”“It’salion,MaryPoppins,look!”Michaelpointedatremblingfinger–and

sheturnedandbeheldthetwolockedfigures.ThePoliceman nowwas ducking sideways to prevent theLion licking his

cheek.Hishelmetwasoffandhisfacewaspale,buthestillhadapluckylookinhiseye.

“Imight have known it!” saidMary Poppins, as she stared at the curiouspair.“Rover!”shecalledinexasperation.“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?”

Fromunderhislacy,floppingmanetheLionprickedupanear.“Rover!”shecalledagain.“Down,Isay!”TheLiongaveonelookatheranddroppedwithathudtotheground.Then

hegavealittlethroatygrowlandboundedawaytowardsher.“Oh,theTwins!He’lleatthem!Help!”criedJane.ButtheLionhardlylookedattheTwins.HewasfawningatMaryPoppins.

Herolledhiseyesandwaggedhistailandarchedhimselfagainstherskirt.ThenawayherushedtothePoliceman,seizedthebluetrousersbetweenhisteethandtuggedthemtowardstheperambulator.

“Don’t be so silly!” said Mary Poppins. “Do as I tell you! Let him go!You’vegotthewrongone.”

TheLionloosedthetrouser-legandrolledhiseyesinsurprise.“Do you mean,” the Prime Minister called from his bough, “he’s to eat

anotherPoliceman?”Mary Poppins made no reply. Instead, she fished inside her handbag and

broughtoutasilverwhistle.Then,settingitdaintily toher lips,shepuffedouthercheeksandblew.

“Why–Icouldhaveblownmywhistle–”thePolicemanstaredatthesilvershape–“ifonlyI’dthoughtofit.”

Sheturneduponhimalookofscorn.“Thetroublewithyouisthatyoudon’tthink.Neitherdoyou!”shesnappedattheLion.

Hehunghisheadbetweenhispawsandlookedveryhurtandfoolish.“Youdon’tlisten,either,”sheaddedseverely.“Inatoneearandoutofthe

next.Therewasnoneedtomakesuchafoolishmistake.”TheLion’stailcreptbetweenhislegs.“You’re careless, thoughtless and inattentive. You ought to be thoroughly

ashamedofyourself.”TheLiongaveahumblesnuffleasthoughheagreedwithher.“Whowhistled?”calledavoicefromtheGate.“WhosummonedanOfficer

oftheLaw?”AlongtheWalkcameanotherpoliceman,limpingunevenly.Hisfacehada

melancholylook,asthoughhepossessedasecretsorrow.“Ican’tstaylongwhateveritis,”hesaid,ashereachedthegroup.“Ileftthe

lightswhenIheard thewhistleandImustgetback to them.WhyEgbert!”hesaidtotheFirstPoliceman,“what’sthematterwithyou?”

“Oh,nothingtocomplainof,Albert!I’vejustbeenattackedbyalion!”“Lion?”ThesadfacegrewashademorecheerfulastheSecondPoliceman

glanced about him. “Oh, what a beauty!” he exclaimed, limping towards thetawnyshapeatMaryPoppins’side.

JaneturnedtowhisperinMichael’sear.“HemustbethePoliceman’sbrother–theonewiththewoodenfoot!”“Nicelion!Prettylion!”saidtheSecondPolicemansoftly.AndtheLion,atthesoundofhisvoice,leapttohisfeetwitharoar.“Nowgently,gently!Beagoodlion.He’sanelegantfellow,soheis!”the

SecondPolicemancrooned.ThenheputbackthemanefromtheLion’sbrowandmetthegoldeneyes.A

shudderofjoyranthroughhisframe.“Rover!Mydearoldfriend!It’syou!”Heflungouthisarmswithaloving

gestureandtheLionrushedintothem.“Oh,Rover!Afteralltheseyears!”theSecondPolicemansobbed.“Wurra,wurra!”theLiongrowled,lickingthetearsaway.AndforawholeminuteitwasnothingbutRover–Wurra,Rover–“Wurra,

whiletheyhuggedandkissedeachother.“Buthowdidyougethere?Howdidyoufindme?”demanded theSecond

Policeman.“Woof!Burrrum!”repliedtheLion,noddingtowardstheperambulator.“No!Youdon’t say!Howverykind!Wemust alwaysbegrateful,Rover!

AndifIcandoyouagoodturn,MissPoppins—”“Oh,getalong,do–thepairofyou!”saidMaryPoppinssnappily.For the

Lionhadrushedtolickherhandanddartedbacktohisfriend.“Woof?Wurra-woof?”hesaidinagrowl.“Will I comewith you?What do you think?As if I could ever leave you

again!”AndflinginghisarmroundtheLion’sshoulders,theSecondPolicemanturned.

“Hey!” cried the First Policeman sternly. “Where are you going to,may Iask?Andwhereareyoutakingthatanimal?”

“He’stakingme!”criedtheSecondPoliceman.“Andwe’regoingwherewebelong!”Hisgloomyfacehadquitechanged.Itwasnowrosyandgay.

“Butwhataboutthetrafficlights?Who’sgoingtolookafterthose?”“They’reallatgreen!”saidtheSecondPoliceman.“Nomoresignalsforme,

Egbert!Thetrafficcandowhatitlikes!”HelookedattheLionandroaredwithlaughter,andthetwoofthemturned

away.Overthelawnstheysauntered,chatting–theLiononitshindlegsandthePolicemanlimpingalittle.WhentheycametotheLaneGatetheypausedforamoment andwaved.Then through theywent and shut it behind them, and thewatcherssawthemnomore.

TheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardensgathereduphisnet.“Ihopethey’renotmakingfortheZoo.Wehaven’tacagetospare!”“Well, as long as he’s out of the public Park. . .” The Prime Minister

clamberedoutofthetree.“Haven’t we met before?” he enquired, as he took off his hat to Mary

Poppins.“I’mafraidI’veforgottenwhereitwas!”“Upintheair!Onaredballoon!”Shebowedinaladylikemanner.“Ah,yes!Hurrumph!”Heseemedratherembarrassed.“Well–Imustbeoff

andmakesomemorelaws!”And,glancingroundtomakesure theLionwasnotcomingback,hemade

fortheFarGate.“Constable!” cried the Lord Mayor, as he swung himself down from his

branch.“Youmustgoatoncetothesignal-boxandswitchthelightstored.Thetrafficcandoasitlikes,indeed!Whoeverheardofsuchathing!”

ThePoliceman,moppinghisscratches,gallantlysprangtoattention.“Very good,YourHonour!” he said smartly, andmarched awaydown the

Walk.“Asforyou,Smith,thisisallyourfault.YourdutyistolookafterthePark!

ButwhatdoIfindwhenIpassthisway?Wildanimalsrunningalloverit.Youdisappointmeagainandagain.ImustmentionittotheKing.”

TheParkKeeperfellonhiskneeswithagroan.“Oh,pleasedon’tmentionit,YourHonour!Thinkofmepooroldmother!”“YoushouldhavethoughtofheryourselfbeforeyouletthatLionin!”“ButIneverlet’imin,YourWorship!Itwasn’tmyfault’ecameoverthe

wall.Ifanyone’stoblame,it’s—”TheParkKeeperbrokeoffnervously,buthelookedinMaryPoppins’direction.

SodidtheLordMayor.“Aha!”he exclaimed,with agracious smile. “Charmed tomeetyouagain,

Miss–er?”

“Poppins,”saidMaryPoppinspolitely.“Poppins–ah,yes!Acharmingname!Now,ifSmithwereonlyyou,Miss

Poppins,thesethingswouldneveroccur!”Withabow,theLordMayorturnedawayandbilloweddowntheWalk.The

twoAldermenalsobowed,andbillowedalongbehindhim.“That’sallyouknow!”saidtheParkKeeper,ashewatchedthemdisappear.

“IfIwas’er–ha,ha,that’sfunny!–anythingcouldhappen!”“IfIwereyou,I’dstraightenmytie,”saidMaryPoppinsprimly.“Getdown

from that fountain, Jane andMichael!” She glanced at their grimy knees andfaces.“YoulooklikeacoupleofBlackamoors!”

“Wecan’tallbelikeyou,youknow!”theParkKeepersaidsarcastically.“No,” she agreed. “And more’s the pity!” She pushed the perambulator

forward.“But,MaryPoppins,”Michaelburstout.Hewaslongingtoaskheraboutthe

Lion.“Butting’sforgoats–nothumanbeings!Bestfootforward,please!”“It’snouse,Michael,”whisperedJane.“Youknowsheneverexplains.”ButMichaelwastooexcitedtoheed.“Well,ifIcan’ttalkabouttheLion,willyouletmeblowyourwhistle?”“Certainlynot!”Shesaunteredon.“Iwonder,MaryPoppins,”hecried,“ifyou’lleverletmedoanything!”“Iwonder!”shesaid,withamockingsmile.TwilightwasfallingoverthePark.Peoplewerescramblingoutofthetrees

andhurryinghometosafety.FromtheFarGatecameafrightfuldin.Andlookingthroughitthechildren

sawamotionlessblockof traffic.The lightswere red, thehornswerehootingandthedriverswereshakingtheirfists.

ThePolicemanwascalmlysurveyingthescene.Hehadbeengivenanorderandhewasobeyingit.

“HasyourbrotherAlbertgoneforgood?”criedJane,ashewavedtothem.“Noidea,”herepliedcalmly.“Andit’snoaffairofmine!”Then round the perambulator swung and they all went back by the Long

Walk.TheTwinsandAnnabel,wearyofplayingwiththeblueduck,letitdropover the side. Nobody noticed. Jane andMichael were far too busy thinkingabout theday’sadventure.AndMaryPoppinswasfar toobusy thinkingaboutMaryPoppins.

“I wonder where Albert’s gone?” murmuredMichael as he strolled along

besideher.“HowshouldIknow?”sheanswered,shrugging.“I thought you knew everything!” he retorted. “I meant it politely, Mary

Poppins!”Herface,whichwasjustabouttobefierce,tookonaconceitedexpression.“MaybeIdo,”shesaidsmugly,asshehurriedthemacrosstheLaneandin

throughthefrontgate...“Oh,Ellen!”MrsBankswassaying,astheyallcameintothehall.“Would

youdust themantelpiecewhileyou’re there?Well, darlings?”Shegreeted thechildrengaily.

Ellen,halfwayupthestairs,repliedwithaloudsneeze.“A-tishoo!”ShehadHayFever.Shewascarryingmugsofmilkonatrayandtheyrattledeachtimeshesneezed.

“Oh,goon,Ellen!You’resoslow!”saidMichaelimpatiently.“You’rehard-hearted–a-tishoo!”shecried,asshedumped the trayon the

Nurserytable.Helter-skeltertheyallranin,asEllentookaclothfromherpocketandbegan

todustMissAndrew’streasures.“Rockcakesforsupper!I’llhavethebiggest!”criedMichaelgreedily.MaryPoppinswasbuttoningonherapron.“MichaelBanks...”shebeganin

awarningvoice.Butthesentencewasneverfinished.“Oh,help!”AwildscreamrenttheairandEllenfellbackwardsagainstthe

table.Bang!wentthemilkmugsontothefloor.“It’s him!” shrieked Ellen. “Oh,what shall I do?” She stood in a running

streamofmilkandpointedtothemantelpiece.“What’shim?Who’shim?”criedJaneandMichael.“Whatever’sthematter,

Ellen?”“There!Underthatbananabush!Hisveryself!A-tishoo!”Shewas pointing straight atMissAndrew’s huntsman as he smiled in the

armsofhisLion.“Why,ofcourse!”criedJane,asshelookedatthehuntsman.“He’sexactly

likeEgbert–ourPoliceman!”“TheonlyoneIeverloved,andnowawildbeast’sgothim!”Ellenflungoutafrenziedarmandknockedtheteapotover.“A-tishoo!”she

sneezeddistractedly,asshehurriedsobbingfromtheroomandthundereddownthestairs.

“Whata sillyshe is!”saidMichael, laughing.“As ifhe’dhave turned intochina!Besides,wesawhimamomentago,awaybytheFarGate!”

“Yes, she’s a silly,” Jane agreed. “But he’s very like the huntsman,Michael.” She smiled at the smiling china face. “And both such manlyfigures...”

“Well,Constable?”saidMrBanks,ashecameupthegardenpaththatevening.Hewondered if he had broken a Bye-lawwhen he saw the Policeman at thedoor.

“It’sabouttheduck!”ThePolicemansmiled.“We don’t keep ducks,” said Mr Banks. “Good heavens!What have you

donetoyourface?”The Policeman patted his bruised cheek. “Just a scratch,” he murmured

modestly.“Butnow,thatthereblueduck—”“Whoeverheardofablueduck?GoandaskAdmiralBoom!”ThePolicemangaveapatientsighandhandedoveradingyobject.“Oh,thatthing!”MrBanksexclaimed.“Isupposethechildrendroppedit!”

Hestuffedtheblueduckintohispocketandopenedthefrontdoor.ItwasatthismomentthatEllen,herfacehiddeninherduster,hurledherself

downthefrontstairsandstraightintohisarms.“A-tishoo!”ShesneezedsoviolentlythatMrBanks’bowlerhatfelloff.“Why,Ellen!Whatonearth’sthematter?”MrBanksstaggeredbeneathher

weight.“He’sgonerightintothatbitofchina!”Hershouldersheavedasshesobbed

outthenews.“You’regoingtoChina?”saidMrBanks.“Well,don’tbesodepressedabout

it!Mydear,”heremarkedtoMrsBanks,whowashurryingupthekitchenstairs.“Ellenisfeelingupset,shesays,becausesheisgoingtoChina!”

“China?”criedMrsBanks,raisinghereyebrows.“No! It’shim that’s gorn!” insistedEllen. “Under a banana in theAfrican

jungle!”“Africa!”MrBanksexclaimed,catchingonlyawordhereandthere.“Imade

amistake,”hesaidtoMrsBanks.“She’sgoingtoAfrica!”MrsBanksseemedquitestupefied.“I’mnot!I’mnot!”shriekedEllenwildly.“Well,whereveryou’regoing,domakeupyourmind!”MrBanksthrusther

towardsachair.

“Allowme,sir!”thePolicemanmurmured,steppingintothehall.Ellenlookedupatthesoundofhisvoiceandgaveastrangledsob.“Egbert!But I thoughtyouwereupon themantelpiece–andawildbeast

goingtoeatyou!”SheflungoutherarmtowardstheNursery.“Mantelpiece?”MrBanksexclaimed.“A wild beast?” murmured Mrs Banks. Could they – they wondered –

believetheirears?“Leave it tome,” the Policeman said. “I’ll take her a turn along the path.

Perhapsitwillclearherhead.”HeheavedEllenoutofthechairandledher,stillgaping,throughthedoor.Mr Banks mopped his beaded brow. “Neither China, nor Africa,” he

murmured.“MerelytothefrontgatewiththePoliceman.IneverknewthathisnamewasEgbert!Well, I’ll just go and say goodnight to the children. . .Allwell,MaryPoppins?”heaskedgaily,ashesaunteredintotheNursery.

Shegaveaconceitedtossofherhead.Couldanythingbeallbutwellwhileshewasaboutthehouse?

MrBanksglancedcontentedlyattheroomfulofrosychildren.Thenhiseyefellonthemantelpieceandhegaveastartofsurprise.

“Hullo!”heexclaimed.“Wheredidthosethingscomefrom?”“MissAndrew!”allthechildrenanswered.“Quick – letme escape!”MrBanks turned pale. “Tell her I’ve run away!

Gonetothemoon!”“She’snothere,Daddy,” theyreassuredhim.“She’s faraway in theSouth

Seas.Andtheseareallhertreasures.”“Well,Ihopeshestaysthere–rightat thebottom!Her treasures,yousay!

Well thisone isn’t!”MrBanksmarched to themantelpiece andpickedup thecelluloidhorse.IwonhimmyselfatanEasterFairwhenIwasalittleboy.Ah,there’smyfriend,thesoapstonebird!Athousandyearsold,shesaiditwas.And,look,Imadethatlittleship.Aren’tyouproudofyourfather?”

MrBankssmiledathisclevernessasheglancedalongthemantelpiece.“I feel like a boy again,” he said. “These things all come from my old

schoolroom.Thehenusedtowarmmybreakfastegg.AndthefoxandtheclownandHomeSweetHome– howwell I remember them!And there–bless theirhearts! – are the Lion and the Huntsman. I always called them the FaithfulFriends. Used to be a pair of these fellows, but they weren’t complete, Iremember. The second huntsman was broken off, nothing left of him but hisboot.Ah!There’stheother–thebrokenone.Goodgracious!”Hegaveastartof

surprise.“Boththehuntsmenarehere!”Theylookedatthebrokenornamentandblinkedwithastonishment.Forthere,wheretheblankwhitegaphadbeen,wasasecondsmilingfigure.

Beneath thebananatreehesat, leaning– likehisunbrokenbrother–againstashaggyshape.Apawlaylovinglyonhisbreastandhislion–onlythismorningsosadandtearful–wasnowshowingallhisteethinagrin.

Thetwoornamentswereexactlyalike–thetwotreesborethesamefruit,thetwolionswereequallyhappyandthetwohuntsmensmiled.Exactlyalike–butforoneexception.Forthesecondhuntsmanhadacrackinhislegjustabovehisboot– the sortof crackyoualways findwhen twopiecesofbrokenchinaarecarefullyfittedtogether.

A smile swept over Jane’s face as she realised what had happened. Shegentlytouchedthecrackwithherfingers.

“It’sAlbert,Michael!Albert andRover!And theother–” she touched theunbrokenpair–“theothermustbeHerbert!”

Michael’sheadnoddedbackwardsandforwardsliketheheadofamandarin.ThequestionsroseinthemlikebubblesandtheyturnedtoMaryPoppins.Butjustasthewordsleapttotheirtonguesshesilencedthemwithalook.“Extraordinarything,”MrBankswassaying.“Icouldhaveswornonefigure

wasmissing.It justgoestoshow–I’mgettingolder.Losingmymemory,I’mafraid.Well,whatareyoutwosoamusedabout?”

“Nothing!”theygurgled,astheyflungbacktheirheadsandburstintopealsoflaughter.Howcouldtheyassurehimthathismemorywasasgoodaseveritwas?How explain the afternoon’s adventure, or tell him that they knew nowwhere the Second Policeman had gone? Some things there are that are pasttelling.Andit’snousetrying–astheyknewverywell–tosaywhatcannotbesaid.

“It’salongtime,”grumbledMrBanks,“sinceIcouldlaughatnothing!”But he looked quite cheerful as he kissed them and went downstairs to

dinner.“Let’sputthemsidebyside,”saidJane,settingthelittlecrackedhuntsman

nexttohiscracklessbrother.“Nowthey’rebothathome!”Michaellookedupatthemantelpieceandgaveacontentedchuckle.“ButwhatwillMissAndrewsay,Iwonder?Everythingwastobekeptsafe–

nothingbroken,nothingmended.Youdon’tthinkshe’llseparatethem,Jane?”“Justlethertry!”saidavoicebehindthem.“Safeshesaidtheyweretobe,

andsafetheyaregoingtostay!”

Mary Poppins was standing on the hearthrugwith the teapot in her hand.AndhermannerwassobelligerentthatforhalfasecondJaneandMichaelfeltsorryforMissAndrew.

Shelookedfromthemtothemantelpiece,glancingfromtheirlivingfacestothesmilingchinafigures.

“One and onemakes two,” she declared. “And two halvesmake awhole.AndFaithfulFriendsshouldbetogether,neverkeptapart.But,ofcourse,ifyoudon’tapprove,Michael,” forhis facehadassumeda thoughtfulexpression.“Ifyouthinkthey’dbesafersomewhereelse–ifyouwouldliketogototheSouthSeasandaskMissAndrew’spermission—”

“YouknowIapprove,MaryPoppins!”hecried.“AndIdon’twanttogototheSouthSeas.Iwasonlythinking...”Hehesitated.“Well–ifyouhadn’tbeenthere,MaryPoppins,doyouthinkthey’dhavefoundeachother?”

Shestood there likeapillarofstarch.Hewasalmostsorryhehadspoken,shelookedsosternandpriggish.

“Ifsandwhysandbutsandhows–youwant toomuch,”shesaid.Butherblue eyesgave a sudden sparkle, andapleased smile–very like thoseon thehuntsmen’sfaces–trembledaboutherlips.

AtthesightofitMichaelforgothisquestion.Onlythatsparklemattered.“Oh,bemylion,MaryPoppins!Putyourpawaroundme!”“Andme!”criedJaneassheturnedtojointhem.Herarmscamelightlyacross theirshouldersasshedrewthemclose to the

starched apron. And there they were, the three of them, embracing under theNurserylamplightasthoughbeneathabananatree.

Withalittlepush,Michaelspunthemround.Andagainapush.Andagainaspin.Andsoontheywereallrevolvinggentlyinthemiddleoftheroom.

“Michael,”saidMaryPoppinsseverely,”IamnotaMerry-go-round!”Butheonlylaughedandhuggedhertighter.“TheFaithfulFriendsaretogether,”hecried.“AlltheFaithfulFriends!”

ChapterThree

LUCKYTHURSDAY

“IT’SDODFAIR!”grumbledMichael.Hepressedhisnosetothewindow-paneandsniffedatearaway.And,asif

totaunthim,agustofrainrattledagainsttheglass.Alldaythestormhadraged.AndMichael,becausehehadacold,wasnot

allowedtogoout.JaneandtheTwinshadputongum-bootsandgonetoplayinthe Park. Even Annabel, wrapped in a mackintosh, had sailed off under theparrotumbrella,lookingasproudasaqueen.

Oh,howlonelyMichaelfelt!ItwasEllen’sDayOut.Hismotherhadgoneshopping.MrsBrillwasdowninthekitchen.AndRobertsonAy,upintheattic,wasasleepinacabintrunk.

“Get up and play in your dressing-gown. But don’t put a toe outside theNursery!”MaryPoppinshadwarnedhim.

Sotherehewas,allbyhimself,withnothingtodobutgrumble.Hebuiltacastle with his blocks, but it tumbled downwhen he blew his nose. He triedcuttinghis hairwithhispenknife, but thebladewas far tooblunt.Andat lasttherewasnothing left todobutbreatheon the rainywindow-paneanddrawapicturethere.

The Nursery clock ticked the day away. The weather grew wetter andMichaelgrewcrosser.

But then, at sunset, the clouds lifted and a lineof crimson shone from theWest.Everythingglitteredinrainandsun.Rat-tat-tat–ontheblackumbrellas,theCherry-Treesdroppedtheirweightofwater.TheshoutsofJaneandJohnandBarbarafloateduptothewindow.Theywereplayingleap-frogovertheguttersontheirwayhomefromthePark.

AdmiralBoomcamesplashingpast,lookinglikeashinysunflowerinhisbigyellowsou-wester.

TheIceCreamMantrundledalongtheLane,withawaterproofcapespreadoverhistricycle.Andinfrontofitthenoticesaid:DON’TSTOPMEIWANT MY TEA He glanced at Number Seventeen and waved his hand to the

window. Michael, on any other day, would gladly have answered back. Buttoday he deliberately took no notice.He huddled on thewindow-seat, glumlywatchingthesunset,andlookingoverMissLark’sroofat thefirstfaintstar inthesky.

“Theothersgedallthefud,”hesniffed.“IwishIcouldhavesobeluck!”Thenfootstepsclatteredonthestairs.ThedoorburstopenandJaneranin.“Oh,Michael,itwaslovely!”shecried.“Wewereuptoourkneesinwater.”“ThenIhobeyoucatchacode!”hesnapped.Hegaveaguiltyglanceround

to see if Mary Poppins had heard. She was busy unwrapping Annabel andshakingtherainfromherparrotumbrella.

“Don’tbecross.Weallmissedyou,”saidJaneinacoaxingvoice.ButMichaeldidnotwanttobecoaxed.Hewantedtobeascrossasheliked.

Nobody, if he could help it,was going to alter his badmood. Indeed, hewasalmostenjoyingit.

“Dodetouchbe,Jade.You’reallwet!”hesaidinasulkyvoice.“Soarewe!”chirpedJohnandBarbara,runningacrosstohughim.“Oh,goaway!”hecriedangrily,turningbacktothewindow.“Idodewant

totalktoanyofyou.Iwishyou’dallleavebealode!”“Miss Lark’s roof is made of gold!” Jane gazed out at the sunset. “And

there’sthefirststar–wishonit!Howdoesthetunego,Michael?”Heshookhisheadandwouldn’ttell,soshesangthesongherself.

“StarlightStarbright,FirststarI’veseentonight,WishImayWishImightThatthewishmaycometrueThatIwishtonight.”

Shefinishedthesongandlookedatthestar.“I’vewished,”shewhispered,smiling.“It’seasyforyoutosbile,Jade–youhavvdgotacode!”Heblewhisnose

for the hundredth time and gave a gloomy sniff. “I wish I was biles frobeverywhere! Sobewhere I could have sobe fud. Hullo, whad’s that?” he said,staring,asasmalldarkshapeleaptontothesill.

“What’swhat?”shemurmureddreamily.

“John!Barbara!Andyou too,Jane!Takeoffyourcoatsatonce. IwillnothavesupperwithThreeDrownedRats!”saidMaryPoppinssharply.

They slithered off the window-seat and hurried to obey her. When MaryPoppinslookedlikethatitwasalwaysbesttoobey.

Thedarkshapecreptalongthesillandaspeckledfacepeepedin.Coulditbe–yes,itwas!–acat.Atortoiseshellcatwithyelloweyesandacollarmadeofgold.

Michael pressed his nose to the pane. And the cat pressed its nose to theother side and looked at him thoughtfully. Then it smiled a most mysterioussmileand,whiskingoffthewindow-sill,itsprangacrossMissLark’sgardenanddisappearedovertheroof.

“Whoownsit,Iwonder?”Michaelmurmured,ashegazedatthespotwherethecathadvanished.Heknewitcouldn’tbelongtoMissLark.Sheonlycaredfordogs.

“Whatareyoulookingat?”calledJane,asshedriedherhairbythefire.“Dothing!”hesaidinahorridvoice.Hewasnotgoingtosharethecatwith

her.ShehadhadenoughfuninthePark.“Ionlyasked,”sheprotestedmildly.Heknewshewastryingtobekindandsomethinginsidehimwantedtomelt.

Buthiscrossnesswouldnotletit.“AsIoddlyadswered!”heretorted.MaryPoppins lookedathim.Heknew that lookandheguessedwhatwas

coming,buthefelttootiredtocare.“You,”she remarked inachillyvoice,“cananswerquestions inbed.Spit-

spotandinyougo–andkindlyclosethedoor!”HereyesboredintohimlikegimletsashestalkedawaytotheNightNursery

andkickedthedoortowithabang.The steam-kettle bubbled beside his bed, sending out fragrant whiffs of

balsam. But he turned his nose away on purpose and put his head under theblankets.

“Dothingdiceeverhappedstobe,”hegrumbledtohispillow.Butitoffereditscoolwhitecheekinsilenceasifithadnotheard.Hegaveitacoupleoffuriousthumps,burrowedinlikeanangryrabbit,and

immediatelyfellasleep.

Amomentlater–orsoitseemed–hewoketofindthemorningsunstreaminginuponhim.

“Whatdayistoday,MaryPoppins?”heshouted.“Thursday,” she called from the next room. Her voice, he thought, was

strangelypolite.Thecampbedgroanedasshesprangout.Hecouldalwaystellwhatshewas

doing simplyby the sound– the clip-clipof hooks and eyes, the swishof thehairbrush, the thump of her shoes and the rattle of the starched apron as shebuttoned it round her waist. Then came a moment of solemn silence as sheglancedapprovinglyatthemirror.Andafterthatahurricaneasshewhiskedtheothersoutofbed.

“MayIgetuptoo,MaryPoppins?”Sheanswered“Yes!”,tohissurprise,andhescrambledoutlikelightningin

casesheshouldchangehermind.Hisnewsweater–navybluewiththreeredfir-trees–waslyingonthechair.

Andforfearshewouldstophimwearingit,hedraggeditquicklyoverhisheadandswaggeredintobreakfast.

Janewasbutteringhertoast.“How’syourcold?”sheenquired.Hegaveanexperimentalsniff.“Gone!”Heseizedthemilkjug.“Iknew itwouldgo,” she said, smiling. “That’swhat Iwishedon the star

lastnight.”“Justaswellyoudid,”heremarked.“Nowyou’vegotmetoplaywith.”“TherearealwaystheTwins,”sheremindedhim.“Not the same thing at all,” he said. “May I have somemore sugar,Mary

Poppins?”Hefullyexpectedhertosay“No!”But,instead,shesmiledserenely.“Ifyouwantit,Michael,”shereplied,withtheladylikenodshereservedfor

strangers.Could he believe his ears? he wondered. He hurriedly emptied the sugar

bowlincasetheyhadmadeamistake.“Theposthascome!”criedMrsBanks,bustlinginwithapackage.“Nothing

foranyonebutMichael!”He tore apart the paper and string. Aunt Flossie had sent him a cake of

chocolate!“Nutmilk–myfavourite!”heexclaimed,andwasjustabouttotakeabite

whentherecameaknockatthedoor.RobertsonAyshuffledslowlyin.

“Message fromMrs Brill,” he yawned. “She’s mixed a sponge cake, shesays, and would like him to scrape the bowl!” He pointed a weary finger atMichael.

Scrapethecake-bowl!Whatatreat!Andasrareasunexpected!“I’mcoming right away!”he shouted, stuffing thechocolate inhispocket.

And,feelingratherboldanddaring,hedecidedtoslidedownthebanisters.“The very chap Iwanted to see!” criedMrBanks, asMichael landed.He

fumbledinhiswaistcoatpocketandhandedhissonashilling.“What’sthatfor?”demandedMichael.Hehadneverhadashillingbefore.“Tospend,”saidMrBankssolemnly,ashetookhisbowlerhatandbagand

hurrieddownthepath.Michael felt veryproudand important.Hepuffedouthis chest in a lordly

wayandclattereddowntothekitchen.“Good–isit,dearie?”saidMrsBrill,ashetastedthestickysubstance.“Delicious,”hesaid,smackinghislips.Butbeforehehad timeforanotherspoonfulawell-knownvoice floated in

fromtheLane.“Allhandsondeck!Upwiththeanchor!ForI’mboundfortheRioGrande!”ItwasAdmiralBoom,settingoutforawalk.Uponhisheadwasablackhat,paintedwithskull-and-crossbones–theone

hehadtakenfromapiratechiefinadesperatefightoffFalmouth.AwaythroughthegardenMichaeldashedtogetalookatit.Forhisdearest

hopewasthatsomedayhe,too,wouldhavesuchahat.“Heave her over!” the Admiral roared, leaning against the front gate and

lazilymoppinghisbrow.Theautumndaywaswarmandmisty.Thesunwasdrawingintotheskythe

rainthathadfallenlastnight.“Blast my gizzard!” cried Admiral Boom, fanning himself with his hat.

“Tropicalweather, that’swhat it is– itoughtn’t tobeallowed.TheAdmiral’shatistoohotfortheAdmiral.Youtakeit,messmate,tillIcomeback.ForawayI’mboundtogo–oho!–’crossthewideMissouri!”

And spreading his handkerchief over his head, he thrust the pirate’s hat atMichaelandstampedaway,singing.

Michael clasped the skull-and-crossbones. His heart hammered withexcitementasheputthehatonhishead.

“I’lljustgodowntheLane,”hesaid,hopingthateverybodyinitwouldseehimwearingthetreasure.Itbangedagainsthisbrowashewalkedandwobbled

wheneverhe lookedup.Butnevertheless,behindeachcurtain–hewassure–therelurkedanadmiringeye.

ItwasnotuntilhewasnearlyhomethathenoticedMissLark’sdogs.Theyhad thrust their heads through the garden fence and were looking at him inastonishment. Andrew’s tail gave a well-bred wag, but Willoughby merelystared.

“Luncheon!”trilledMissLark’svoice.AndasWilloughbyrosetoanswerthesummonshewinkedatAndrewand

sniggered.“Canhebelaughingatme?”thoughtMichael.Butheputtheideaasideas

ridiculousandsauntereduptotheNursery.“Do I have to wash my hands, Mary Poppins? They’re quite clean,” he

assuredher.“Well, theothers,ofcourse,havewashed theirs–butyoudoasyou think

best!”Atlastsherealised,hethought,thatMichaelBankswasnoordinaryboy.He

couldwashornot,ashethoughtbest,andshehadn’teventoldhimtotakeoffhishat!Hedecidedtogostraightintoluncheon.

“Now,awaytothePark,”saidMaryPoppins,assoonasthemealwasover.“Ifthatisconvenientforyou,Michael?”Shewaitedforhisapproval.

“Oh, perfickly convenient!”He gave a lordlywave of his hand. “I think Ishallgototheswings.”

“NottotheLake?”protestedJane.ShewantedtolookatNeleus.“Certainlynot!”saidMaryPoppins.“WeshalldowhatMichaelwishes!”Andshestoodasiderespectfullyashestruttedbeforeherthroughthegate.Thesoftbrightmiststillrosefromthegrass,blurringtheshapesoftheseats

andfountains.Bushesandtreesseemedtofloatintheair.Nothingwaslikeitsrealselfuntilyouwerecloseuponit.

MaryPoppinssatdownonabench,settledtheperambulatorbesideherandbegantoreadabook.Thechildrendashedawaytotheplayground.

Up and down on the swingswentMichael, with the pirate’s hat bumpingagainst his eyes.Thenhe took a rideon the spinning-jenny and after that, theloop.Hecouldn’tturnsomersaults,likeJane,forfearofdroppingthehat.

“Whatnext?”hethought,feelingratherbored.Everythingpossible,hefelt,hadhappenedtohimthismorning.Nowtherewasnothinglefttodo.

Hewanderedback through theweavingmistandsatbesideMaryPoppins.She gave him a small, preoccupied smile, as though she had never seen him

before,andwentonreadingherbook. ItwascalledEverythingaLadyShouldKnow.

Michaelsighedtoattractherattention.Butshedidnotseemtohear.Hekickedaholeintherainygrass.MaryPoppinsreadon.Thenhiseyefellonheropenhandbagwhichwaslyingontheseat.Insideit

wasahandkerchief,andbeneaththehandkerchiefamirrorandbesidethemirrorhersilverwhistle.

Hegazedat itwithenviouseyes.ThenheglancedatMaryPoppins.Thereshewas,stilldeepinherbook.Shouldheaskheragainforaloanofthewhistle?Sheseemedtobeinthebestofhumours–notacrosswordthewholedaylong.

Butwasthehumourtobereliedon?Supposeheaskedandshesaidno!He decided not to risk asking, but just to take the whistle. It was only

borrowing,afterall.Hecouldputitbackinaminute.Quickasafishhishanddarted,andthewhistlewasinhistrouserpocket.Roundbehindthebenchhehurried,feelingthesilvershapeagainsthim.He

wasjustabouttotakeitoutwhensomethingsmallandbrightranpasthim.“Ibelievethat’sthecatIsawlastnight!”saidMichaeltohimself.And, indeed, it was one and the same. The same black-and-yellow coat

shoneinthesunnymist,morelikedapplesoflightandshadowthanordinaryfur.Andaboutitsneckwasthesamegoldcollar.

The cat glanced up invitingly, smiling the same mysterious smile, andpaddedlightlyon.

Michaeldartedafterit,inandoutofthepatchesofmistthatseemedtogrowthickerasheran.

Somethingfellwithachinkathisfeet.“My shilling!” he cried, as he bent to retrieve it. He searched among the

steaminggrasses,turningoverthewetblades,feelingundertheclover.Nothere!Notthere!Wherecouldithavegone?

“Come on!” said a soft, inviting voice. He looked round quickly. To hissurprisetherewasnobodynear–exceptthesmilingcat.

“Hurry!”criedthevoiceagain.Itwasthecatwhohadspoken.Michaelsprangup.Itwasnousehunting,theshillinghadgone.Hehurried

afterthevoice.Thecatsmiledashecaughtitupandrubbedagainsthislegs.Thesteaming

vapour rose up from the earth,wrapping them both around.And before themstoodawallofmistalmostasthickasacloud.

“Takeholdofmycollar,”thecatadvised.Itsvoicewasnomorethanasoftmew,butitheldanoteofcommand.

Michaelfeltatwingeofexcitement.Somethingnewwashappening!Hebentdownobedientlyandclaspedthebandofgold.

“Now,jump!”thecatordered.“Liftyourfeet!”Andholdingthegoldencollartightly,Michaelsprangintothemist.“Whee – ee – ee!” cried a rushingwind in his ears.The sunny cloudwas

sweepingpasthimandallaroundhimwasemptyspace.Theonlysolidthingsintheworldwere the shining band round the cat’s neck and the hat on his ownhead.

“Whereoneartharewegoing?”Michaelgasped.Atthesamemomentthemistcleared.Hisfeettouchedsomethingfirmand

shiny.Andhesawthathestoodonthestepsofapalace–apalacemadeofgold.“Nowhereonearth,”repliedthecat,pressingabellwithitspaw.Thedoorsofthepalaceopenedslowly.SweetmusiccametoMichael’sears

andthesighthebeheldquitedazzledhim.Beforehimlayagreatgoldhall,blazingwithplumesoflight.Never,inhis

richestdreams,hadMichael imaginedsuchsplendour.But thegrandeurof thepalacewasasnothingcomparedtothebrillianceofitsinhabitants.Forthehallwasfullofcats.

Thesecatswereplayingfiddles,catsplayingflutes,catsontrapezes,catsinhammocks; cats jugglingwith golden hoops, cats dancing on the tips of theirtoes; cats turning somersaults; cats chasing tails and catsmerely lolling aboutdaintilylickingtheirpaws.

Moreover,theyweretortoiseshellcats,allofthemdappledwithyellowandblack; and the light in the hall seemed to come from their coats, for each catshonewithitsownbrightness.

Inthecentre,beforeagoldencurtain,layapairofgoldencushions.Andonthesereclinedtwodazzlingcreatures,eachwearingacrownofgold.Theyleanttogether,pawinpaw,majesticallysurveyingthescene.

“TheymustbetheKingandQueen,”thoughtMichael.Toonesideofthislordlypairstoodthreeveryyoungcats.Theirfurwasas

smoothandbrightassunlight,andeachhadachapletofyellowflowersperchedbetweentheears.Roundaboutthemwereothercatswholookedlikecourtiers–for all werewearing golden collars and ceremoniously standing on their hind

legs.OneoftheseturnedandbeckonedtoMichael.“Hereheis,YourMajesty!”Hebowedobsequiously.“Ah,”said theKing,withastatelynod.“Sogladyou’ve turnedupat last!

TheQueenandIandourthreedaughters–”hewavedhispawatthethreeyoungcats–“havebeenexpectingyou!”

Expectinghim!Howflattering!But,ofcourse,nomorethanhisdue.“Mayweofferyoua little refreshment?”asked theQueen,withagracious

smile.“Yes, please!” saidMichael eagerly. In such a graceful environment there

wouldsurelybenothinglessthanjelly–andprobablyicecream!Immediatelythreecourtiercatspresentedthreegoldenplatters.Ononelaya

deadmouse,onthesecondabat,andthethirdheldasmallrawfish.Michaelfelthisfacefall.“Oh,no!thankyou!”hesaid,withashudder.“FirstYesPleaseandthenNoThankYou!Whichdoyoumean?”theKing

demanded.“Well, Idon’t likemice!”protestedMichael. “And Inevereatbatsor raw

fisheither.”“Don’tlikemice?”criedahundredvoices,asthecatsallstaredateachother.“Fancy!”exclaimedthethreePrincesses.“Then perhaps you would care for a little milk?” said the Queen, with a

queenlysmile.Atonceacourtierstoodbeforehimwithmilkinagoldensaucer.Michaelputouthishandstotakeit.“Oh,notwithyourpaws!”theQueenimploredhim.“Lethimholditwhile

youlap!”“ButIcan’tlap!”Michaelprotested.“Ihaven’tgotthatkindoftongue.”“Can’t lap!” Again the cats regarded each other. They seemed quite

scandalised.“Fancy!”thethreePrincessesmewed.“Well,”saidtheQueenhospitably,“alittlerestafteryourjourney!”“Oh,itwasn’tmuchofajourney,”saidMichael.“Justabigjumpandhere

we were! It’s funny,” he went on thoughtfully, “I’ve never seen this palacebefore–andI’malwaysinthePark!Itmusthavebeenhiddenbehindthetrees.”

“InthePark?”TheKingandQueenraisedtheireyebrows.Sodidallthecourtiers.Andthe

threePrincesseswere soovercome that they took threegolden fans from their

pocketsandhidtheirsmilesbehindthem.“You’renotintheParknow,Iassureyou.Farfromit!”theKinginformed

him.“Well, itcan’tbevery far,”saidMichael.“Itonly tookmeaminute toget

here.”“Ah!”saidtheKing.“Buthowlongisaminute?”“Sixty seconds!”Michael replied.Surely, he thought, aKing shouldknow

that!“Yourminutesmaybesixtyseconds,butoursareabouttwohundredyears.”Michaelsmiledathimamiably.AKing,hethought,musthavehisjoke.“Nowtellme,”continued theKingblandly,“didyoueverhearof theDog

Star?”“Yes,” saidMichael, very surprised.Whathad theDogStar todowith it?

“HisothernameisSirius.”“Well,this,”saidtheKing,“istheCatStar.Anditsothernameisasecret.A

secret,mayIfurtheradd,thatisonlyknowntocats.”“ButhowdidIgethere?”Michaelenquired.Hewasfeelingmoreandmore

pleased with himself. Think of it – visiting a star! That didn’t happen toeveryone.

“Youwished,”repliedtheKingcalmly.“DidI?”Hecouldn’trememberit.“Ofcourseyoudid!”theKingretorted.“Lastnight!”theQueenremindedhim.“Lookingatthefirststar!”thecourtiersaddedfirmly.“Which happened,” said the King, “to be ours. Read the Report, Lord

Chamberlain!”Anelderlycat, in spectaclesanda longgoldwig, stepped forwardwithan

enormousbook.“Lastnight,”hereadoutpompously,“MichaelBanks,ofNumberSeventeen,

CherryTreeLane–alittlehouseontheplanetEarth–gaveexpressiontothreewishes.”

“Three?”criedMichael.“Ineverdid!”“Shush!”warnedtheKing.“Don’tinterrupt.”“WishNumberOne,” theLordChamberlain read,“was thathe couldhave

someluck!”Amemory stirred inMichael’smind.He sawhimselfon thewindow-seat,

gazingupatthesky.

“Oh,nowIremember!”heagreed.“Butitwasn’tveryimportant.”“Allwishesareimportant!”TheLordChamberlainlookedathimseverely.“Well–andwhathappened?”theKingenquired.“Ipresumethewishcame

true?”Michaelreflected.Ithadbeenamostunusualday,fullofallkindsofluck.“Yes,itdid!”headmittedcheerfully.“Inwhatway?”askedtheKing.“Dotellus!”“Well,”beganMichael,“Iscrapedthecakebowl—”“Scrapedthecakebowl?”thecatsrepeated.Theystaredasthoughhewere

outofhiswits.“Fancy!”thethreePrincessespurred.TheKingwrinkledhisnoseindisgust.“Somepeoplehavestrangeideasof

luck!Butdocontinue,please!”Michaelstraightenedhisshouldersproudly.“Andthen–becauseitwashot,

youknow–theAdmiralletmeborrowhishat!”Whatwouldtheysaytothat?hewondered.Theywouldsurelybegreenwithenvy.

But the cats merely flicked their tails and silently gazed at the skull-and-crossbones.

“Well,everyonetohisowntaste,”saidtheKingafterapause.“Thequestionis–isitcomfortable?”

“Er–notexactly,”Michaeladmitted.Forthehatdidnotfithimanywhere.“It’sratherheavy,”headded.

“H’m!”theKingmurmured.“Well,pleasegoon!”“ThenDaddygavemeashillingthismorning.ButIlostitinthegrass.”“Howmuch use is a lost shilling?”Theway theKing put the question, it

soundedlikeaconundrum.Michaelwishedhehadbeenmorecareful.“Notmuch,”hesaid.Thenhebrightenedup.“Oh–andAuntFlossiesentmeabarofchocolate.”He felt for it inhis trouserpocket and realised, ashe fished itout, thathe

musthavebeensittingonit.Fornowitwasonlyaflattenedmasswithbitsoffluffalloveritandanailembeddedamongthenuts.

Thecatseyedtheobjectfastidiously.“Ifyouaskme,”saidtheKing,lookingsqueamish,“Imuchpreferabatto

that!”Michaelalsostaredatthechocolate.Howquicklyallhisluckhadvanished!

Therewasnothinglefttoshowforit.

“Readon,LordChamberlain!”orderedtheKing.Theoldcatgavehiswigapat.“Thesecondwishwas—”heturnedthepage–“thattheotherswouldleave

himalone.”“Itwasn’t!”criedMichaeluncomfortably.Buthesawhimself,evenashespoke,pushingtheTwinsaway.“Well,”hesaidlamely,“perhapsitwas.ButIdidn’treallymeanit!”TheKingstraighteneduponhisgoldencushion.“Youmadeawishthatyoudidn’tmean?Wasn’tthatratherdangerous?”“And did they leave you alone?” asked the Queen. Her eyes were very

inquisitive.Michaelconsidered.Nowthathecametothinkofit,inspiteofhisluck,the

day had been lonely. Jane had played her own games. The Twins had hardlybeennearhim.AndMaryPoppins,althoughshehadtreatedhimmostpolitely,hadcertainlylefthimalone.

“Yes,”headmittedunwillingly.“Of course they did!” theKing declared. “If youwish on the first star, it

alwayscomestrue,especially—”hetwirledhiswhiskers–“ifithappenstobeours.Well,whataboutthethirdwish?”

TheLordChamberlainadjustedhisglasses.“Hewishedtobemilesfromeverybodyandsomewherewherehecouldhave

allthefun.”“Butthatwasonlyasortofjoke!Ididn’tevenrealiseIwaslookingatastar.

AndIneverthoughtofitcomingtrue.”“Exactly so! You never thought! That’s what all of them say.” The King

regardedhimquizzically.“All?”echoedMichael.“Whoelsesaidit?”“Dearme!”TheKinggaveadaintyyawn.“Youdon’tthinkyou’retheonly

child who has wished to be miles away! I assure you, it’s quite a commonrequest.Andone–whenit’swishedonourstar–thatwefindveryuseful.Veryusefulindeed!”herepeated.“Malkin!”Hewavedtoacourtier.“Begoodenoughtodrawthecurtain!”

A young cat, whomMichael recognised as the one that had accompaniedhimfromthePark,sprangtothebackofthehall.

Thegoldencurtainswungaside,disclosingthepalacekitchens.“Now,comealong!”criedMalkinsternly.“Hurryup,all!Nodawdling!”“Yes,Malkin!”

“No,Malkin!”“Coming,Malkin!”Achorusof treblevoicesanswered.AndMichael saw, tohis surprise, that

thekitchenwasfullofchildren.Therewereboysandgirlsof every size, all of themworking frantically at

differentdomestictasks.Some were washing up golden plates, others were shining the cats’ gold

collars. One boy was skinningmice, another was boning bats, and twomorewere down on their knees busily scrubbing the floor. Two little girls in partydresses were sweeping up fishbones and sardine tins and putting them into agolden dustbin. Another was sitting under a table winding a skein of goldenwool.Theyalllookedveryforlornandharassed,andthechildbeneaththetablewasweeping.

TheLordChamberlainlookedatherandgaveanimpatientgrowl.“Bequickwiththatwool,now,Arabella!ThePrincesseswanttoplaycat’s-

cradle!”TheQueenstretchedoutherhindlegtoaboyinasailorsuit.“Come,Robert,”shesaidinafretfulvoice.“It’stimetopolishmyclaws.”“I’mhungry!”whinedtheeldestPrincess.“Matilda!Matilda!”Malkinthundered.“AhaddockforPrincessTiger-Lily!

AndPrincessMarigold’ssugaredmilk!AndaratforthePrincessCrocus!”A girl in plaits and a pinafore appeared with three golden bowls. The

Princesses nibbled amorsel each and tossed the rest to the floor.And severalchildrenraninandbegantosweepupthescraps.

TheKingglancedslylyacrossatMichaelandsmiledathisastonishment.“Ourservantsareverywelltrained,don’tyouthink?Malkininsistsonthem

toeingtheline.Theykeepthepalacelikeanewpin.Andtheycostuspracticallynothing.”

“But,” began Michael in a very small voice. “Do the children do all thework?”

“Whoelse?”said theKing,with the liftofaneyebrow.“Youcouldhardlyexpectacattodoit!Catshaveotherandbetteroccupations.Acatinthekitchen–whatanidea!Outdutyistobewiseandhandsome–isn’tthatenough?”

Michael’sfacewasfullofpityashegazedatthelucklesschildren.“Buthowdidtheygethere?”hewantedtoknow.“Exactlyasyoudid,”theKingreplied.“Theywishedtheyweremilesfrom

everywhere.Soheretheyare,yousee.”

“Butthatwasn’twhattheyreallywanted!”“I’mafraidthat’snoaffairofours.Allwecandoistogranttheirwishes.I’ll

introduceyouinamoment.They’realwaysgladtoseeanewface.Andsoarewe, for thatmatter. ”TheKing’s facewore an expressive smile. “Manyhandsmakelightwork,youknow!”

“But I’m not going to work!” criedMichael. “That wasn’t what I wishedfor.”

“Ah!Thenyoushouldhavebeenmorecareful.Wishesaretrickythings.Youmustaskforexactlywhatyouwantoryouneverknowwheretheywilllandyou.Well,nevermind.You’llsoonsettledown.”

“Settledown?”echoedMichaeluneasily.“Certainly.Justas theothershavedone.Malkinwillshowyouyourduties

presently,whenyou’vehadtherestofyourwish.Wemustn’tbeforgettingthat.Therearestilltheriddles,youknow.”

“Riddles? Inevermentioned riddles!”Michaelwasbeginning towonder ifhewerereallyenjoyingthisadventure.

“Didn’tyouwishtohaveallthefun?Well,whatismorefunthanariddle?Especially,”purredtheKing,“toacat!Tellhimtherules,LordChamberlain!”

Theoldcatpeeredoverhisglasses.“Ithasalwaysbeenourcustomhere,whenanychildwishesforallthefun,

tolethimhavethreeguesses.Ifheanswersthemall–correctly,ofcourse–hewins a third of the Cats’ kingdom and the hand of one of the Princesses inmarriage.”

“Andifhefails,”theKingadded,“wefindhimsomeotheroccupation.”Heglancedsignificantlyatthelabouringchildren.

“Ineedhardlyadd,”hecontinuedblandly,exchangingasmilewithhisthreedaughters,“thatnoonehasguessedtheriddlesyet.Letthecurtainbedrawnforthe–ahem!–timebeing.Silenceinthehall,please!LordChamberlain,begin!”

Immediately,themusicceased.Thedancersstoodonthetipsoftheirpawsandthehoopshungmotionlessintheair.

Michael’sspiritsroseagain.Nowthatthechildrenwereoutofsight,hefeltagooddealbetter.Besides,helovedaguessinggame.

TheLordChamberlainopenedhisbookandread:

“Roundasamarble,blueasthesea,UnlessIambrownorgrey,maybe!Smile,andIshinemywindow-pane,

Frownatmeanddowncomesmyrain.IseeallthingsbutnothingIhear,SingmetosleepandIdisappear.”

Michaelfrowned.Thecatswereallwatchinghimasifhewereamouse.“Abitofaposer,I’mafraid!”TheKingleantbackonhiscushion.“No,itisn’t!”criedMichaelsuddenly.“I’vegotit!AnEye!”The cats glanced cornerwise at each other. The King’s wide gaze grew

narrower.“H’m,”hemurmured.“Notbad,notbad!Well,nowforthesecondriddle.”“A-hurrrrum!”TheLordChamberlainclearedhisthroat.

“DeepwithinmeisabirdAndinthatbirdanotherme,Andinthatmeabirdagain–NowwhatamI,inlettersthree?”

“That’seasy!”Michaelgaveashout.“Theanswer’sanEgg,ofcourse!”Againthecatsswivelledtheireyes.“You are right,” said the King unwillingly. He seemed to be only faintly

pleased.“ButIwonder–”hearchedhisdappledback–“Iwonderwhatyouwillmakeofthethird!”

“Silence!”commandedtheLordChamberlain, thoughtherewasn’tasoundinthehall.

“ElegantthejunglebeastThatlivesinfieldandfold.He’slikethesunwhenheisyoungAndlikethemoonwhenold.Heseesnoclock,hehearsnochimeAndyethealwaysknowsthetime.”

“Thisismoredifficult,”Michaelmurmured.“Thethirdisalwaystheworst.H’m,letmesee–ajunglebeast–he’selegantandheknowsthetime.Oh,dear,it’sonthetipofmytongue.I’vegotit!Dandelion!”

“He’sguessedit!”criedtheKing,rising.Andatoncethecatsallleapttolife.TheysurroundedMichaelwithfurand

whiskersandarchedthemselvesagainsthim.

“YouareclevererthanIthought,”saidtheKing.“Almostascleverasacat.Well,nowImustgoanddividethekingdom.Andas toabride–thePrincessCrocus,itseemstome,wouldbethemostsuitablechoice.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Michael cheerfully – he was feeling quite himselfagain–“butImustbegettinghomenow.”

“Home!”criedtheKinginastonishment.“Home?”theQueenechoed,raisinghereyebrows.“Well,Ihavetobebackfortea,”explainedMichael.“Tea?”repeatedthecourtiers,gaping.“Fancy!”thethreePrincessestittered.“Areyousocertainyoustillhaveahome?”saidtheKinginacuriousvoice.“Ofcourse Iam,”saidMichael, staring.“Whatcouldhavehappened to it?

FromtheParkto–er–here,itwasjustajump.Anditonlytookmeaminute.”“You’ve forgotten, I think,”said theKingsmoothly,“thatourminutes last

fortwohundredyears.Andasyou’vebeenhereatleasthalfanhour—”“Twohundred?”Michael’scheekpaled.Soithadn’tbeenajokeafterall!“It stands to reason,” the King continued, “that many changes must have

occurred sinceyouwereon theEarth.NumberSeventeenApple-bushAvenue—”

“CherryTreeLane,”theLordChamberlainmuttered.“Well,whateveritsname,youmaybesureitisn’tthesameasitwas.Idare

sayit’sovergrownwithbrambles—”“Briars!”addedtheQueen,purring.“Nettles,”suggestedthecourtiers.“Blackberries,”murmuredthethreePrincesses.“Oh, I’msure it isn’t!”Michaelgulped.Hewas feelingsucha longing for

homethatthethoughtofitmadehimchoke.“However,”theKingwentblandlyon,“ifyou’recertainyoucanfindyour

way–I’mafraidwecan’tspareMalkinagain–byallmeanssetout!”Hewavedhispawtowardsthedoor.

Michael ran to the entrance. “Ofcourse I’mcertain!”he cried stoutly.Buthiscourageebbedashelookedout.

Thereweretheshiningstepsofthepalace,butbelowthem,asfarashecouldsee, therewas nothing butwreathingmist.What if he jumped? he thought tohimself.Andifhejumped,wherewouldheland?

He bit his lip and turned back to the hall. The cats were softly creepingtowardshim,gazingathimmockinglyfromblack-and-yelloweyes.

“Yousee!”saidtheKingoftheCats,smiling–andnotakindlysmileeither.“In spite of being so clever at guessing, youdonot know thewayback!Youwishedtobemilesfromeverywhere,butyoufoolishlyneglectedtoaddthatyouwouldalsoliketoreturnhome.Well!Well!Everyonemakesmistakesattimes–unless, of course, they are cats!And thinkhow fortunate you are!Nokitchenwork–youhavesolvedtheriddles.Plentyofratsandbatsandspiders.AndyoucansettledownwiththePrincessCrocusandlivehappilyeverafter.”

“ButIdon’twanttomarrythePrincessCrocus!Ionlywanttogohome!”Alowgrowlcamefromeverythroat.Everywhiskerbristled.“You...don’t...want...to...marry...the...Princess...Crocus?”“WordbywordtheKingcamenearer,growinglargerateverystep.“No,Idon’t!”declaredMichael.“She’sonlyacat!”“Onlyacat!”thecatssquealed,swellingandrearingwithrage.Black-and-yellow shapes swarmed roundhim. “Only a cat!”They spat out

thewords.“Oh,whatshallIdo?”Hebackedaway,shieldinghiseyesfromtheirgaze.“You wissshed!” they hissed at him, padding closer. “You sssought our

ssstar!Youmusssttaketheconsssequencessses!”“Oh,whereshallIgo?”criedMichaelwildly.“Youwill ssstaybesssideusss,” theKingwhisperedwith a terrible catlike

softness.“Youguessedourriddlesss,youssstoleoursssecretsss.Doyou thinkwewouldletyougo?”

Awallofcatswasallabouthim.Heflungoutanarmtothrustitaway.Buttheirarchingbacksweretoomuchforhim.HishanddroppedlimplytohissideandfellupontherigidshapeofMaryPoppins’whistle.

Withacry,hesnatcheditfromhispocketandblewitwithallhismight.AshrillpealsoundedthroughtheHall.“Sssilencehim!Ssseizehim!Hemussstn’tessscape!”Thefuriouscatspressedcloser.Indesperationheblewagain.Awhiningcaterwaulansweredtheblastasawaveofcatsrolledforward.Hefelthimselfenvelopedinfur–furinhisnose,furinhiseyes.Oh,which

ofthemhadleaptathim–orwasitall thecats together?Withtheirscreechesechoing in his ears, he felt himself borne upwards. A fur-covered arm, orperhapsaleg,wasclaspedabouthiswaist.Andhisfacewascrushedtoafurrysomething–abreastoraback,hecouldnottell.

Windwasblowingeverywhere,sweepinghimwildlyon,withcattotheright

ofhim,cattotheleftofhim,catabovehimandcatbelow.Hewaswrappedinacocoon of cats and the long furry arm that held himwas as strong as an ironband.

With an effort he wrenched his head sideways and blew the whistle soviolentlythathishatfelloffhishead.

Thestrongarmdrewhimcloserstill.“Whee-ee!”criedthewind,withahollowvoice.Andnowitseemedthatheandthecatswerefallingthroughtheair.Down,

down,downinafurrymass.Oh,whereweretheytakinghim?Again and againheblew thewhistle, strugglingmadly against the fur and

kickinginalldirections.“Oo’s making all that dreadful rumpus? Mind what you’re doin’! You

knockedoffmecap!”AwonderfullyfamiliarvoicesoundedinMichael’sears.Cautiouslyheopenedaneyeandsawthathewasdriftingdownpastthetop

ofachestnut-tree.ThenextminutehisfeettouchedthedewygrassoftheParkandthere,onthe

lawn,wastheParkKeeper,lookingasthoughhehadseenaghost.“Now,now!Wot’sallthis.Wot’aveyoutwobeenupto?”Youtwo!Thewordshadacheerfulring.Hewasheld,itseemed,byonlyone

cat and not, after all, by the whole tribe. Was it the Lord Chamberlain? Or,perhaps,thePrincessCrocus!

MichaelglancedfromtheParkKeepertothefurryarmaroundhim.Itended,tohisgreatsurprise,notinapaw–butahand.Andonthehandwasaneatglove–black,nottortoiseshell.

Heturnedhisheadenquiringlyandhischeekencounteredabonebuttonthatwasnestlinginthefur.Surelyheknewthatpieceofbone!Oh,wasitpossible?Coulditbe?

Hisglanceslidupwardspastthebuttontillitcametoaneatfurcollar.Andabovethecollarwasacircleofstrawtoppedwithacrimsonflower.

Hegavealong-drawnsighofrelief.Cats,hewasgladtorealise,donotweartuliphatsontheirheads,norkidglovesovertheirclaws.

“It’s you!” he cried exultantly, pressing his face to her rabbit-skin jacket.“Oh,MaryPoppins–Iwasupinthestar–andallthecatscamesnarlingatme–andIthoughtI’dneverfindthewayhome–andIblewthewhistle,and—”

Suddenlyhebegantostammer,forherface,beneaththebrimofherhat,wascoldandveryhaughty.

“AndhereIam,”heconcludedlamely.MaryPoppinsneversaidaword.Shebowedtohiminadistantmanneras

thoughshehadneverseenhimbefore.Theninsilencesheheldoutherhand.Hehunghisheadguiltilyandputthewhistleintoit.“So that’s the reason for thehullabaloo!”TheParkKeeper splutteredwith

disapproval.“Iwarnyou,thisisyourlastchance.BlowthatwhistleonceagainandI’llresign–Ipromise!”

“Apie-crustpromise!”scoffedMaryPoppins,asshepocketedthewhistle.TheParkKeepershookhisheadindespair.“YououghttoknowtheRulesbynow.AllLittertobeplacedintheBaskets.

NoClimbin’ofTreesinthePark!”“Litter yourself!” saidMary Poppins. “And I never climbed a tree in my

life!”“Well,mightIenquirewhereyoucamefrom,then?Droppin’downfromthe

skylikethatandknockin’offmecap?”“There’snotalawagainstenquiring,sofarasIamaware!”“Been up in the Milky Way, I suppose!” The Park Keeper snorted

sarcastically.“Exactly,”shesaid,withasmileoftriumph.“Huh! You can’t expect me – a respectable man – to believe that

tarradiddle!” And yet, he thought uneasily, she had certainly come fromsomewhere.

“Idon’texpectanything,”sheretorted.“AndI’llthankyoutoletmepass!”StillholdingMichaelclosetoherside,shegaveherheadadisdainful toss,

pushedtheParkKeeperoutofthewayandtrippedtowardstheGate.AnoutragedcrysoundedbehindthemastheParkKeeperwildlywavedhis

stick.“You’vebrokentheRules!You’vedisturbedthepeace!Andyoudon’teven

sayyou’resorry!”“I’mnot!”shecalledbackairily,asshewhiskedacrosstheLane.SpeechlessatsomanybrokenBye-laws,theParkKeeperbenttopickuphis

cap.Thereitlayontherainygrass.Andbesideitsprawledastrangedarkobjectonwhichwaspainted,ingleamingwhite,adesignofskull-and-crossbones.

“Whenwilltheylearn,”hesighedtohimself,“whattodowiththeirlitter?”Andbecausehewassoupsetandflustered,hemistakenlyputhiscapinthe

basketandwalkedhomewearingthepirate’shat...Michael glanced eagerly at Number Seventeen as they hurried across the

Lane.Itwaseasytosee–forthemisthadcleared–thattherewasn’tabramblenearit.Thecatshadnotbeenright,afterall.

ThehalllightfloodedhimwithwelcomeandthestairsseemedtorunawaybeneathhimasheboundeduptotheNursery.

“Oh,thereyouare,”criedJanegaily.“Whereverhaveyoubeen?”Hehadnotthewordstoanswerher.Hecouldonlygazeatthewell-known

room, as though he had been away for years. How could he explain, even toJane,howpreciousitseemedtohim?

TheTwins ran inwithopenarms.Hebentandhugged them lovinglyand,puttingouthishandtoJane,hedrewherintothehug.

A light footstep made him glance up. Mary Poppins came tripping in,buttoningonherapron.Everythingabouthertonight–thedartingmovements,thesternglance,eventhewayhernoseturnedup–wasdeliciouslyfamiliar.

“Whatwouldyou likeme todo,MaryPoppins?”Hehopedshewouldaskforsomethingtremendous.

“Whatever you like,” she answered calmly, with the same extravagantcourtesyshehadshownhimalldaylong.

“Don’t,MaryPoppins!Don’t!”hepleaded.“Don’twhat?”sheenquired,withannoyingcalm.“Don’tspeaktomeinthatelegantway.Ican’tbearanymoreluck!”“Butluck,”shesaidbrightly,“waswhatyouwanted!”“Itwas.Butitisn’t.I’vehadenough.Oh,don’tbepoliteandkind.”Thecoolsmilefadedfromherface.“AndamInotusuallypolite?Haveyoueverknownmetobeunkind?What

doyoutakemefor–aHyena?”“No,notahyena,MaryPoppins.Andyouarepoliteandyouarekind!But

todayIlikeyoubestwhenyou’reangry.Itmakesmefeelmuchsafer.”“Indeed?AndwhenamIangry,I’dliketoknow?”She looked, as she spoke,veryangry indeed.Her eyes flashed,her cheeks

were scarlet.And foronce, the sightdelightedhim.Now that her chilly smilewasgone,hedidn’tmindwhathappened.Shewasherownfamiliarselfandhenolongerastranger.

“Andwhenyou sniff– that’swhen I likeyou!”headdedwith stupendousdaring.

“Sniff?”shesaid,sniffing.“Whatanidea!”“Andwhenyousay‘Humph’–likeacamel!”“Likeawhat?”Shelookedquitepetrified.Thenshebristledwrathfully.She

remindedhimofthewaveofcatsasshecrossedtheNurserylikeanoncomingstorm.

“Youdaretostandthere,”sheaccusedhimsternly,takingastepwitheveryword,justastheKinghaddone,“andtellmeI’maDromedary?Fourlegsandatailandahumportwo?”

“But,MaryPoppins,Ionlymeant—”“That is enough from you,Michael. Onemore piece of impertinence and

you’llgotobed,spit-spot.”“I’minitalready,MaryPoppins,”hesaidinaquaveringvoice.Forbynow

shehadbackedhimthroughtheNurseryintohisroomandontohisbed.“FirstaHyenaandthenaCamel.IsupposeI’llbeaGorillanext!”“But—”“Not another word!” she spluttered, giving her head a proud toss as she

stalkedoutoftheroom.He knew he had insulted her, but he couldn’t really be sorry. Shewas so

exactlylikeherselfthatallhecouldfeelwasgladness.Offwenthis clothes and inhedived,hugginghispillow tohim. Its cheek

waswarmandfriendlynowasitpressedagainsthisown.Theshadowscreptslowlyacrosshisbedashelistenedtothefamiliarsounds

– bath-water running, the Twins’ chatter and the rattle and clink of Nurserysupper.

Thesoundsgrewfainter...thepillowgrewsofter...But,suddenly,adelicioussomething–ascentofaflavour–filledtheroom,

andmadehimsitupwithastart.A cup of chocolate hovered above him. Its fragrance came sweetly to his

noseandmingledwiththefresh-toastscentofMaryPoppins’apron.Thereshestood,likeastarchedstatue,gazingcalmlydown.

Hemetherglancecontentedly,feelingitplungingintohimandseeingwhatwasthere.HeknewthatsheknewthatheknewshewasnotaCamel.Thedaywasover,hisadventurebehindhim.TheCatStarwasfarawayinthesky.Anditseemedtohim,ashestirredhischocolate,hehadeverythinghewanted.

“Idobelieve,MaryPoppins,”hesaid,“thatI’venothinglefttowishfor.”Shesmiledasuperior,scepticalsmile.“Humph!”sheremarked.“That’slucky!”

ChapterFour

THECHILDRENINTHESTORY

RATTLE!RATTLE!RATTLE!Clank!Clank!Clank!Upanddownwentthelawn-mower,leavingstripesofnewlycutgrassinits

wake.BehinditpantedtheParkKeeper,pushingwithallhismight.Attheendof

eachstripehepausedforamomenttoglanceroundtheParkandmakesurethateverybodywasObservingtheRules.

Suddenly,outofthecornerofhiseye,hespiedalargenetwavingbackwardsandforwardsbehindthelaurels.

“Benjamin!” he calledwarningly. “BenjaminWinkle, Remember theBye-laws!”

The Keeper of the Zoological Gardens thrust his head round a clump ofleavesandputhisfingertohislips.Hewasasmall,nervous-lookingman,withabeardlikeaham-frillfringinghisface.

“Sh!”hewhispered.“I’mafteranAdmiral!”“An’Admiral?Well,youwon’tfind’iminalaurelbush.’E’soverthere,at

theendoftheLane.Big’ouse,withatelescopeontheflagpole.”“ImeanaRedAdmiral!”hissedtheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardens.“Well,’e’sredenoughforanything.Gotafacelikeastormysunset.”“It’snotamanI’mafter,Fred.”TheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardensgave

the Park Keeper a look of solemn reproach. “I’m catching butterflies for theInsectHouse, and all I’ve got –” he glanced dejectedly into his net – “is oneCabbageWhite.”

“Cabbage?”criedtheParkKeeper,rattlingoffdownthelawn.“Ifyouwantacabbage, I’ve some in my garden. H’artichokes too. And turnips! Fine day,Egbert!” he called to the Policeman, who was taking a short-cut through thePark,inthecourseofhisdailyduties.

“Might be worse,” the Policeman agreed, glancing up at the windows ofNumberSeventeen,inthehopeofcatchingaglimpseofEllen.

Hesighed.“Andmightbebetter!”headdedglumly.ForEllenwasnowheretobeseen.

Rattle,rattle!Clank,clank!The sunlight spangled the stripy lawn and spread like a fan overPark and

Lane.ItevenwentsofarastoshineontheFairGround,andtheSwinging-boatsandtheMerry-go-roundandthebigbluebannerwithMUDGE’SFAIRprintedonitingold.

TheParkKeeperpausedat theendofastripeandsentahawk-likeglanceabouthim.

AfatmanwithafacelikeapoppywassaunteringthroughthelittlegatethatledfromtheFair.Hehadabowlerhatonthebackofhisheadandalargecigarinthismouth.

“KeepOfftheGrass!”theParkKeepercalledtohim.“Iwasn’tonit!”retortedthefatman,withalookofinjuredinnocence.“Well,I’mjustgivin’youaWordofWarnin’.AllLittertobeplacedinthe

Baskets–especially,MrMudge,intheFairGround!”“MrSmith,”saidthefatmaninafat,confidentvoice,“ifyoufindsomuch

asapostagestampwhentheFair’sover,I’ll–well,I’llbesurprised.You’llbeabletoeatyourdinneroffthatFairGround,ormyname’snotWillieMudge.”

Andhestuckhisthumbsintothearmholesofhisjacketandswaggeredoff,lookingveryimportant.

“Lastyear,”theParkKeepershoutedafterhim,“Isweptupsacksofpostagestamps!AndIdon’teatmedinnerthere.Igo’omeforit!”

He turned tohisworkagainwitha sighand the lawn-mowerwentupanddownwithasteady,sleepydrone.Atthelaststripe,wherethelawnendedintheRose Garden, he glanced cautiously round. Now was the moment, he felt, iftherewasnobodyabouttoreporthimtotheLordMayor,totakealittlerest.

TheRoseGardenwasa ringof rose-bedsenclosinga littlegreenspace. Inthemiddlewasapool,andinthepoolstoodafountainofwhitemarbleshapedlikeanopenrose.

The Park Keeper peered through the flowering bushes. There, by thefountain,layJaneandMichael.AndjustbeyondtheRoseGarden,onamarbleseat,satanelderlygentleman.Heseemedtohaveforgottenhishat,forhisbaldheadwasshelteredfromthesunbyapeakedcapmadeofnewspaper.Hisnosewas deep in an enormous book, which he was reading with the aid of amagnifying–glass.Hemutteredtohimselfasheturnedthepages.

JaneandMichaeltoo,hadabook.AndJane’svoicemingledwiththesound

ofthefountainasshereadaloudtoMichael.Itwasapeacefulscene.“Quiet for once,” the Park Keeper murmured. “I shall just snatch Forty

Winks!”Andhe laydowncautiously among thebusheshoping that if anyonepassedtheywouldmistakehimforarose.

Had he looked in the other direction he might have thought better ofbehavingsorecklessly.For,awayunderthewisterias,pushingtheperambulatorbackwardsandforwardsinarhythmic,soothingmovement,wasMaryPoppins.

Creak,creak,wentthewheels.Whimper,whimper,wentAnnabel,whowascuttingherfirsttooth.“Shoo now! Shoo now!” murmured Mary Poppins, in an absent-minded

voice.She was thinking about her new pink blouse, with the lace-edged

handkerchief stuck in thepocket.Hownicely itharmonised, she thought,withthetulipinherhat.AndshecouldnothelpwishingthereweremorepeopleintheParktoappreciatethespectacle.Oneverybenchandundereverytreethereshouldhavebeenanadmiringonlooker.“There’sthatcharmingMissPoppins,”sheimaginedthemsaying,“alwayssoneatandrespectable!”

But therewereonlya fewscatteredstrangershurryingalong thepathsandtakingnonoticeofanybody.

ShecouldseethePolicemanforlornlygazingupatthewindowsofNumberSeventeen.And the fatmanwith the large cigarwho, in spite of all the ParkKeeper’swarnings,waswalkingon thegrass.Sheprinked a little asBert, theMatchMan,bitingintoarosyapple,camesaunteringthroughtheGate.Perhapshewaslookingforher,shethought,smoothingherneatblackgloves.

She could also see Miss Lark, whose two dogs were taking her for anafternoon run.They rushed down theLongWalk laughing and barking,whileMissLark,withthetwoleadsinherhands,cametumblingbehind.Herhatwasoverone ear andher scarf flappedabout like a flag in thebreeze.Gloves andspectacles scattered fromher, andher necklaces andbeads andbraceletswereswinginginalldirections.

MaryPoppinssniffed.MissLark,shethought,wasnotsotidyassomebodyshecouldmention!Shesmiledasmallself-satisfiedsmileandwentonrockingAnnabel.

Nowthatthelawn-mowerwassilent,therewashardlyasoundinthePark.OnlythemusicofthefountainandJane’svoicecomingtotheendofastory.

“Sothat,”sheconcluded,“wastheendoftheWitch.AndtheKingandtheMaidenweremarriednextdayandlivedhappilyeverafter.”

Michaelsighedcontentedlyandnibbledaleafofclover.Awaybeyond theRoseGarden, theelderlygentleman tookoffhisglasses,

spreadhishandkerchiefoverhisfaceanddozedonthemarbleseat.“Goon,Jane.Don’tstop!”urgedMichael.“Readanotherone.”JaneturnedthepagesofTheSilverFairyBook.Itwaswornandfaded,for

itslifehadbeenlongandbusy.OnceithadbelongedtoMrsBanks,andbeforethat it hadbeengiven tohermother byhermother.Manyof thepictureshaddisappearedandthedrawingshadallbeencolouredwithcrayons,eitherbyJaneandMichaelorbytheirmother.Perhaps,even,bytheirGrandmothertoo.

“It’s so hard to choose,” Jane murmured, for she loved every one of thestories.

“Well,readwhereveritfallsopen–thewayyoualwaysdo!”Sheclosedthebook,helditbetweenherhandsforasecond,andthenletit

go.Withalittlethuditfellonthegrassandopenedrightinthemiddle.“Hooray!”saidMichael.“It’sTheThreePrinces.”Andhesettledhimselfto

listen.“Onceuponatime,”readJane,“therelivedaKingwhohadthreesons.The

eldestwas Prince Florimond, the second PrinceVeritain, and the third PrinceAmor.Now,itsohappenedthat—”

“Letmeseethepicture!”interruptedMichael.Itwasadrawingheparticularly liked, forheandJanehadcoloured itone

rainy afternoon. The Princes were standing at the edge of a forest and thebranchesthatspreadabovetheirheadsborefruitandflowerstogether.AsaddledUnicornstoodbesidethem,withitsreinloopedroundthearmoftheeldest.

PrinceFlorimondwasingreencrayonwithapurplecap.PrinceVeritainhadanorangejerkinandhiscapwasscarlet.AndlittlePrinceAmorwasallinblue,withagoldendaggerstuck inhisbelt.Chrome-colouredringlets fellabout theshouldersofthetwoelderbrothers.Andtheyoungest,whowasbareheaded,hadayellowcircletofshortcurls,ratherlikeacrown.

AsfortheUnicorn,hewassilverywhitefrommanetotail–exceptforhiseyes,whichwerethecolourofforget-me-nots;andhishorn,whichwasstripedwithredandblack.

JaneandMichaelgazeddownatthepageandsmiledatthepicturedchildren.AndthethreePrincessmiledupfromthebookandseemedtoleanforwardfromtheforest.

Michaelsighed.“IfonlyIhadadaggerlikeAmor’s.Itwouldjustbeaboutmysize.”

Abreeze rustled the treesof theParkand thecoloureddrawing seemed totremble.

“I never can choose between Florimond and Veritain,” Jane murmured.“Theyarebothsobeautiful.”

Thefountaingavealaughingrippleandanechooflaughterseemedtocomefromthebook.

“I’lllendittoyou!”saidtheyoungestPrince,whippingthedaggerfromhisbelt.

“Whynotchooseusboth?”criedthetwoeldest,steppingforwardontothelawn.

JaneandMichaelcaughttheirbreath.Whathadhappened?Hadthepaintedforest come to the Park? Or was it that the Rose Garden had gone into thepicture?Arewethere?Aretheyhere?Whichiswhich?theyaskedthemselves,andcouldnotgiveananswer.

“Don’tyouknowus,Jane?”askedFlorimond,smiling.“Yes,ofcourse!”shegasped.“But–howdidyougethere?”“Didn’tyousee?”askedVeritain.“Yousmiledatusandwesmiledatyou.

Andthepicture lookedsoshinyandbright–youandMichaeland thepaintedroses—”

“Sowejumpedrightintothestory!”Amorconcludedgaily.“Outofit,youmean!”criedMichael.“We’renotastory.We’rerealpeople.

It’syouwhoarethepictures!”ThePrincestossedtheircurlsandlaughed.“Touchme!”saidFlorimond.“Takemyhand!”urgedVeritain.“Here’smydagger!”criedAmor.Michael took the golden weapon. It was sharp and solid and warm from

Amor’sbody.“Who’s real now?” Amor demanded. “Tuck it into your belt,” he said,

smilingatMichael’sastonishedface.“Yousee–Iwasright!”saidFlorimond,asJaneputonehandonhissleeve

and theother inVeritain’soutstretchedpalm.She felt thewarmthofbothandnodded.

“But,”sheprotested.“Howcan itbe?Youare inOnceUponaTime.Andthatislongago.”

“Oh,no!” saidVeritain. “It’s always.Doyou rememberyourGreat-Great-Great-Great-Grandmother?”

“Ofcoursenot.Iammuchtooyoung.”“Wedo,”saidFlorimond,withasmile.“AndwhataboutyourGreat-Great-

Great-Great-Granddaughter?Willyoueverseeher,doyouthink?”Jane shook her head a littlewistfully. That charming far-away little girl –

howmuchshewouldliketoknowher!“Weshall,”saidVeritainconfidently.“Buthow?You’rethechildreninthestory!”Florimondlaughedandshookhishead.“Youarethechildreninthestory!We’vereadaboutyousooften,Jane,and

looked at the picture and longed to knowyou.So today–when the book fellopen – we simply walked in. We come once into everyone’s story – thegrandparentsandthegrandchildrenareallthesametous.Butmostpeopletakeno notice.” He sighed. “Or if they do, they forget very quickly. Only a fewremember.”

Jane’shandtightenedonhissleeve.Shefeltshewouldneverforgethim,notifshelivedtobeforty.

“Oh,don’twaste timeexplaining,”beggedAmor.“Wewant toexplore thepicture!”

“We’llleadtheway!”criedMichaeleagerly,asheseizedAmorbythehand.Hehardlycaredwhetherhewasa realboyoraboy ina story, so longas thegoldendaggerlaysnuglyinhisbelt.

“We’llfollow!”criedVeritain,runningbehindthem.Florimondgaveapiercingwhistleandtuggedatthereinonhisarm.Immediately, as if from nowhere, the Unicorn appeared at his side.

Florimondpattedthesilkyneckand,movingoffbesideJane,heglancedabouthimeagerly.

“Look, brothers – over there is the Lake! Do you see Neleus with hisDolphin?And thatmust beNumber Seventeen.We never could see it clearlybefore,”heexplainedtoJaneandMichael.“Inthepictureit’shiddenbehindthetrees.”

“H’m–averysmallhouse,”saidAmor,gazing.“Butit’ssolidandfriendly,”saidVeritainkindly.“Andthegroundsareveryextensive.”Florimondmadeasweepinggesture

andbenttosniffatarose.“Now,now!Wot are youdoin’!”TheParkKeeper, roused fromhisForty

Winks,satupandrubbedhiseyes.“Observe the Rules,” he grumbled, stretching. “No Pickin’ of Flowers

allowed.”“Iwasn’tpicking. Iwas just smelling.Though,ofcourse,” saidFlorimond

politely, “Iwould like to have a rose from Jane’s garden.As a souvenir, youknow!”

“Jane’s garden?”TheParkKeeper stared. “This is no garden. It’s a PublicPark.And it don’t belong to Jane.Souveneer, indeed!”he spluttered. “’Oodoyouthinkyouare?”

“Oh,Idon’tthink–Iknow!”thePrincereplied.“IamFlorimond,theKing’seldestson.Thesearemybrothers–don’tyouremember?AndourtaskistofighttheDragon.”

TheParkKeeper’seyesnearlydroppedfromhishead.“King’seldest...?Dragon?NodragonsallowedinthePublicParks.Andno

horses,neither!”headded,ashiseyesfellonthesilveryhoovesthatwerelightlypawingthelawn.

ApealoflaughterburstfromAmor.JaneandMichaelgiggled.“That’snotahorse,”Veritainprotested.“Can’tyousee?He’saUnicorn!”“Now,now!”TheParkKeeperheavedtohisfeet.“IoughttoknowaNorse

whenIseeoneandthat’saNorseorI’ma–Lumme!”Themilk-whitecreatureraiseditshead.“Itis!ItisaUnycorn!’Ornandall–justlikeapicture.Ineversawsucha

thingbefore–at least—”TheParkKeeperwrinkleduphisbrowas thoughheweretryingtoremembersomething.“No,no,”hemurmured,“Icouldn’thave!NotevenwhenIwasaboy.AUnycorn!Imustmakeareport.Winkle,whereare you? ’Ere, youboys!”He turned to the astonishedPrinces. “You ’old ’imquiettillIgetback.Don’tlethimgowoteveryoudo!”

Andoff hewent, leapingover the flower-beds. “’Orn and all!” theyheardhimshouting,ashedartedamongthelaurels.

The Princes, their eyes round with surprise, gazed after his disappearingfigure.

“Yourgardenerseemsveryexcitable,”saidFlorimondtoJane.Shewas just about toexplain that theParkKeeperwasnot theirgardener,

whenashrillvoiceinterruptedher.“Wait!Wait!Notsofast!Myarmsarenearlyoutoftheirsockets.Oh,what

shallIdo?Theregoesmyscarf!”IntotheRoseGardenplungedMissLark,withthetwodogsstrainingattheir

leads.Herhatwaswobblingdangerouslyandherhairhunginwispsaroundher

face.“Oh,goodness!Theretheygoagain!Andrew!Willoughby!Docomeback!”Butthedogsmerelylaughed.Theytuggedtheleathersfromherhandsand,

boundinggailytowardsthePrinces,theyleaptupatAmor.“Oh,Jane!Oh,Michael!”MissLarkpanted.“Dohelpme,please, tocatch

thedogs. Idon’t like themtalking tostrangers.Lookat thatqueerboykissingAndrew!Hemayhaveacoldandthedogswillcatchit.Whoarethesechildren?Whatveryoddclothes!Andtheirhairismuchtoolong!”

“ThisisFlorimond,”saidJanepolitely.“ThisisVeritain,”addedMichael.“AndthisisAmor!”saidAmor,laughing,ashekissedWilloughby’snose.“Peculiar names!” exclaimed Miss Lark. “And yet. . .” Her face had a

puzzledexpression.“Iseemtohaveheardthembefore.Wherecanithavebeen?Inapantomime?”

ShepeeredatthePrincesandshookherhead.“They’reforeigners,withoutadoubt.Andwhathavetheygotthere–adonkey?Gracious!”Shegaveashriekofsurprise.“Itcan’tbe!Yes!No!Yes–itis!AUnicorn–howwonderful!”

Sheclaspedherhandsinecstasyandtrilledawaylikealark.“Hornandall!AUnicorn!Butwhyisn’tsomebodylookingafterit?”

“Wearelookingafterhim,”saidFlorimondcalmly.“Nonsense! Ridiculous! Absurd! He should be in charge of responsible

people. I shall gomyself to theBritishMuseumand find theChiefProfessor.AndrewandWilloughby,leavethatboyandcomealongwithMother!Quickly,quickly!”Sheseizedtheleads.“Wemustgoatonceforhelp!”

Thetwodogsexchangedawinkanddashedawayatfullspeed.“Oh,notsoquicklyasthat,”criedMissLark.“Youwillhavemehead-over-

heels.Oh,dear,oh,dear–theregoesmybracelet!Nevermind!”shecalledoverhershoulder,asVeritainstoopedtopickitup.“Keepit!I’venotimetowaste!”

Andoffshestumbledbehindthedogswithherhairandnecklacesflying.“Officer!”theyheardhercallingtothePoliceman.“There’saUnicorninthe

RoseGarden.Besureyoudon’tlethimescape!”“Escape?” saidAmor. “Butwhy should hewant to!He’d never be happy

awayfromus.”HesmiledlovinglyatMichaelastheUnicornthrusthisheadbetweenthem

andtickledtheircheekswithhismane.“A Unicorn!” The Policeman stared. “Miss Lark’s gettin’ queerer and

queerer!”hemuttered,ashewatchedherflutteringdownhepath.“’Ere!Look

whereyou’regoing,MrMudge!Youcan’tdothattotheLaw.”Foralargefatmanhadbumpedintohimandwasbreathlesslyhurryingby.

ThePolicemanseizedhimbythearm.“AUnicorn,theoldgirlsaid!”MrMudgepantedheavily.“AUnicorn?” cried the passing strangers. “We don’t believe it!Wemust

writetoTheTimes!”“Of course, I know there’s no such thing. Somebody’s having a bit of a

joke.”MrMudgemoppedhispoppycheeks.“ButIthoughtasI’dgoandsee.”“Well,yougoquietly,”thePolicemanadvisedhim.“AndtreattheLawwith

respect.”HereleasedMrMudge’sarmandstrodeonaheadofhim.“Come, let us go deeper into the picture,”Florimondwas saying.He took

JanegentlybythehandandVeritaincametoherotherside.“Hurry up,Michael! Let’s try the swings. And thenwe can paddle in the

Lake.”AmorgaveatugtoMichael’shand.“Butwhoareallthesepeople?”The five children glanced about them. The Park,which had been so quiet

before,wasnowfilledwith flying figures,all racing towards theRoseGardenandshoutingastheycame.ThePolicemanstalkedalongbeforethemwithbig,importantstrides.

As the children turned to leave the garden, his large blue body barred theway.

HegaveoneglanceattheUnicornandhiseyebrowswentuptotheedgeofhishelmet.

“Miss Lark was right, after all,” he muttered. Then he eyed the Princessternly.

“MightIh’askwhatyouthinkyou’reupto–disturbingthepeaceinapublicplace? And I’d like to know how you three tinkers got hold of that thereanimal!”

“They’renottinkers!”protestedMichael.HewasshockedatthePoliceman’swords.Couldn’theseewhotheywere?

“Gypsies, then. You can tell by their clothes. Too gaudy for respectablepeople.”

“Butdon’tyourememberthem?”criedJane.ShewasfondofthePolicemanandwantedhimnottomakeamistake.

“Never saw thembefore inmy life.”He tookouthisnotebookandpencil.“Now, Iwant a few pertickelers.Honesty’s the best policy, lads, so speak upclearlyandstatethefacts.Firstofall,wheredoyoucomefrom?”

“Nowhere!”giggledAmor.“Everywhere!”saidVeritain.“EastofthesunandWestoftheMoon,”Florimondaddedgravely.“Now, now! This won’t do. I asked a plain question and I want a plain

answer.Wheredoyoulive?Whatplaceonthemap?”“Oh,it’snotonthemap,”saidFlorimond.“Butit’seasytofindifyoureally

wantto.Youonlyhavetowish.”“Nofixedaddress,”thePolicemanmurmured,writinginhisnotebook.“You

see! They’re gypsies – just like I said.Now then, youngman – your father’sname!”

“Fidelio,”answeredFlorimond.“Mother’sname?”TheLawgavehispencilacarefullick.“Esperanza,” Veritain told him. “With a ‘Z’,” he added helpfully, for the

Policeman,itseemed,wasnotagoodspeller.“Aunts?”enquiredthePolicemanagain,laboriouslywriting.“Oh, we have hundreds.” Amor grinned. “Cinderella, Snow White,

Badroulbador,TheWhiteCat,Little-Two-Eyes,BabaYaga–and,ofcourse,theSleepingBeauty.”

“SleepingBeauty,”thePolicemanmurmured.Thenhelookedatthewordshehadwrittenandglancedupangrily.“You’remakingamockoftheLaw!”hecried.“TheSleepingBeautywasn’t

nobody’s aunt. Shewas somebody in a book.Now, see here! Since you boysrefusetogivemeh’informationinh’accordancewiththeh’regulations,itismydutytotakethatanimalincharge.”

Hesteppedforwardresolutely.TheUnicorngaveanangrysnortandflunguphishindlegs.“’Andsoff! ’Andsoff!”yelled theParkKeeper,ashe flunghimselfacross

therosesandpushedthePolicemanaside.“There ’e is, Ben!” he cried in triumph, as the Keeper of the Zoological

Gardens, nervously waving his butterfly net, came tiptoeing into the RoseGarden.

“’Ornandall–justlikeItoldyer!”TheParkKeeperreachedforthesilverbridleandimmediatelyturnedabacksomersault.

FortheUnicornhadloweredhisheadandswunghishornagainsthim.“E-e-eh! Oh! O-o-o-h!” The Keeper of the Zoological Gardens, with a

frightenedyelp,tookrefugebehindthePoliceman.“Dearme,ishedangerous?Doeshebite?Thathornlooksverysharp!”

“It’s sharp and solid, Benjamin!” The Park Keeper ruefully rubbed hisstomach.

“He’s gentle and good,” Florimond protested. “But he isn’t used tostrangers.”

“H’m.Well,you’dbetterbringhimalongtothezooandsettlehimdowninacage.”

“Acage!Oh,no,”criedJaneandMichael,angrilystampingtheirfeet.AndtheUnicorn,asthoughinagreement,drummedwithhishoovesonthe

lawn.“Butwhatwouldhedoinacage?”askedAmor,hiseyeswidewithinterest.“Do?” echoed the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens. “He’d do what the

otheranimalsdo–juststandtheretobelookedat!”“Oh, he wouldn’t like that,” put in Veritain quickly. “He’s used to being

quitefree.Besides,”headded,smilingpolitely,“hebelongstous,youknow!”“Free!”ThePolicemanshookhisfist.“Nobody’sfreetokickattheLaw!”“Whoathere!”criedtheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardens.“Iwon’twhoathere!”thePolicemanshouted.“I’monlydoingwhat’sright!”“Iwastalkingtohim,”murmuredMrWinkle.AndhepointedtotheUnicorn

whowasdancingmadlyonallfourfeet.“Nowthen,”hecooed,“beagoodlittleDobbin.Andwe’llgethimsomehay

andanicecleanhousenextdoortotheHippopotamus!”TheUnicorngavehistailatwitchandlasheditatMrWinkle.Itwasquite

clearthathehadnointentionoflivinganywherenearahippopotamus.“Don’tcoax’im,Benjamin,justtake’im!”TheParkKeepergavehisfriend

apush.“Oh,no!Notyet!Waitjustoneminute!”MissLark’svoicesoundedshrillerthaneverasshehurriedbacktothescene.

Inonehandshehelduphertatteredskirtandwiththeothershedraggedalongan elderly gentleman in a newspaper hat.Hewas carrying a large book and amagnifying-glassandlookingverybewildered.

“Sofortunate!”MissLarkpanted.“IfoundtheProfessorasleeponabench.Therenow,Professor–” she flungoutherhand–“Doyoustill sayyoudon’tbelieveme?”

“Don’tbelievewhat?”theProfessormumbled.“Tch!Tch!I’vetoldyouadozentimes.I’vefoundaUnicorn!”“Indeed?”TheProfessor fumbled in his pockets till at length he foundhis

spectaclesandfixedthemonhisnose.

“Er –whatwas it, dear lady, I had to look at?”He seemed to have quiteforgottenwhathewantedhisspectaclesfor.

MissLarksighed.“TheUnicorn!”sheansweredpatiently.TheProfessorblinkedandturnedhishead.“Well,well!Er–hum!Extraordinary!”He leant forward for a closer lookand theUnicornmadea thrustwithhis

headandproddedtheProfessorwiththeendofhishorn.“You’re right!” The Professor toppled backwards. “It is – ah – hum – a

Unicorn!”“Of course it is!” scoffed the Park Keeper. “We don’t need nobody in a

paper’attotellusthatbito’news.”TheProfessortooknottheslightestnotice.Hewasturningthepagesofhis

bookandwavingamagnifying-glass.“O.P.Q.R.S.T.U.Ah,hereitis!Yes.Afabulousbeast.Rarely–ifever!–

seenbyman.Reputedtobeworthacity—”“Acity!”exclaimedthePoliceman,staring.“Ahorsewithabito’boneon

hishead!”“Distinguishingmarks,” theProfessorgabbled.“Whitebody, tailofsimilar

hue,andabroadbrowfromwhichahorn—”“Yes, yes, Professor,”Miss Lark broke in. “We knowwhat he looks like.

Youneedn’ttellus.Thequestionis–whatshallwedowithhim?”“Do?”TheProfessor lookedover the topofhisglasses. “There’sonlyone

thingtobedone,madam.Wemustarrangeto–ah–havehimstuffed!”“Stuffed?”MissLarkgavealittlegasp.SheglanceduneasilyattheUnicorn

andhegaveheralong,reproachfulstare.“Stuffed!”criedJaneinahorrifiedvoice.“Stuffed!”echoedMichaelsqueakily.Hecouldhardlybeartothinkofit.The Princes shook their golden heads. Their eyes as they gazed at the

Professorweregraveandfullofpity.“Stuffed?Stuffandnonsense!”saidaraucousvoice,asMrMudge,looking

redder than ever, came lumbering into the Rose Garden. “Nobody’s going tostuff an animal that might be of use to Mudge. Where is it?” he demandedloudly.

Hisbulgyeyesgrewbulgierstillastheyfellonthesilvershape.“Well, I never!” He whistled softly. “Cleverest dodge I ever saw.

Somebody’s glued a horn on a horse!My word – what a sideshow this will

make!Who’sinchargeofthebeast?”“Weare,”saidFlorimond,VeritainandAmor.MrMudgeturnedandsurveyedthePrinces.“OutoftheCircus,Isee!”Hegrinned.“Whatareyou–acrobats?”ThePrincessmiledandshooktheirheads.“Well, you can comealongwith thenag.Thosevelvet jackets are just the

thing.Threemeals a day andoats for thehorse.And I’ll bill you asMudge’sUnicorn and his Three Servants. Hey, back up, Neddy – look what you’redoing!”

MrMudgejumpedsidewaysjustintimetoescapeanipfromtheUnicorn’steeth.

“Here, tighten that rein!”he shouted sharply. “Takecare!He’sgot anastytemper!”

“Oh,no,hehasn’t,”saidFlorimondquickly.“Buthedoesn’tcaretobepartofasideshow.”

“Andwe’renothisservants,”saidVeritain.“It’stheotherwayround!”Amoradded.“Now, I want no sauciness, my lads! Just bring him along and behave

yourselves.We’vegottogethimsettleddownbeforetheFairopens.”TheUnicorntossedhissilvermane.“Beggingyourpardon,MrMudge!ButthatUnicornbelongstotheZoo!”Thump!wenttheUnicorn’shornonthelawn.“Nonsense–er–hum!” theProfessorexclaimed.“Hemustgowithme to

theBritishMuseum.Andstand–ah–hum–onapedestalforalltheworldtosee.”

“Theworldcanseehiminhiscage,”saidMrWinklestubbornly.“At the Fair, you mean!” Mr Mudge insisted. “The Only Unicorn in the

World!Moneybackifnotsatisfied.Rollup!Rollup!Sixpencealook!”“HebelongstothePrinces!”shoutedMichael.Butnobodytookanynotice.The Park was ringing with many voices. People came running from all

directions,allgivingdifferentadvice.“Gethimahalter!Hobblehislegs!Bindhim!Holdhim!Puthiminchains!”AndtheUnicornlashedoutwithhishoovesandswunghishornaroundlike

aswordandkeptthemallatadistance.“HebelongstotheLaw!”thePolicemanroared,rakingouthisbaton.“ToMudge’sFair!”criedMrMudge.“ChildrenHalf-price!BabiesFree!”

“To theZoo!”squeaked theKeeperof theZoologicalGardens,wavinghisnetintheair.

“What’sgoingon–anaccident?”Bert,theMatchMan,pushedthroughthecrowdandsaunteredintotheRoseGarden.

Atthesightofhiscalmandcheerfulface,Janegaveasighofrelief.“Oh,helpus,please!”Sherantohim.“They’retryingtotaketheUnicorn.”“Thewhat?” said theMatchMan, very surprised. He glanced at the little

groupbythefountainandgaveasuddenstart.Alookofjoyspreadoverhisfaceashesprangacrossthelawn.

“Gently,boy,gently!Easydoesit!”HeseizedtheUnicornbythemaneandheld out the apple he was munching. The Unicorn lowered his tossing head,sniffedenquiringlyattheoutstretchedhandandthen,withasighofsatisfaction,hegobbledupthecore.

TheMatchMangavehimafriendlyslap.ThenheturnedtothePrinceswithalovinglookand,fallingupononeknee,kissedFlorimond’shand.

TherewasasuddensilenceintheRoseGarden.Everybodystared.“What’s the matter with Bert?” the Park Keeper muttered. “’E must ’ave

gornmad!”For theMatchManhad turned toVeritainandAmorandwaskissing their

handstoo.“Welcome,myPrinces!”hesaidsoftly.“Iamhappytoseeyouagain!”“Princes, indeed!” the Policeman exploded. “A set of rascals, that’s what

theyare.IfoundthemloiteringintheParkinwrongfulpossessionofafabbilousanimal.AndI’mtakingitincharge!”

“What, that?” TheMatchMan glanced at the Unicorn and laughed as heshookhishead.“Youwouldn’tbeabletocatchhim,Egbert.Heisn’tyoursortofanimal.Andwhat’saUnicorn,anyway,comparedwiththethreeofthem?”

HeturnedtothePrinceswithoutstretchedarms.“They’veforgottenus,Bert,”saidFlorimondsadly.“Well,youwon’tforgetmeinahurry,”thePolicemanputingrimly.“Move

away, Bert, you’re obstructing the Law. Now, bring that Unicorn along andfollowme,allthree!”

“Don’tyougo,lads,”urgedMrMudge.“JustslipalongtotheFairGroundandyouandhorsiewillbetreatedproper.”

“Oh, comewithme, boys!” beggedMrWinkle. “If I let thatUnicorn slipthroughmyfingers,theHeadKeeperwillneverforgiveme.”

“No!”saidVeritain.

“No!”saidAmor.“Iamsorry,”saidFlorimond,shakinghishead.“Butwecannotgowithany

ofyou.”“You’ll come, if I have to carry you!” The Policeman strode towards the

Princeswithanangrygleaminhiseye.“Oh,pleasedon’ttouchthem!”Janecriedwildly,flingingherselfinhisway.“Youleavethemalone!”screamedMichael,asheseizedthePolicemanby

theleg.“’Ooligans!”exclaimedMrMudge.“Ineverbehavedlikethat!”“Letmego,Michael!”thePolicemanyelled.“Whatshockingconduct!Howbadlybroughtup!”criedvoicesinthecrowd.“Professor,Professor,pleasedo something!”MissLark’svoice roseabove

thedin.“Suchgoingson!”murmuredMrWinkle.“It’sworsethantheLionHouse!”Heturnedinterrorfromthesceneandknockedagainstamovingobjectthat

wasenteringtheRoseGarden.Acreakingwheelpassedoverhisfootandhisnetbecameentangledwithalargecrimsonflower.

“Out ofmyway!” saidMaryPoppins, as she disengaged the net fromherhat.“AndI’llthankyoutoremember,”sheadded,“thatI’mnotabutterfly!”

“Icanseethat,”saidtheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardens,ashedraggedhisfootfromunderthewheel.

MaryPoppinsgavehimanicyglareasshethrusthimcalmlyoutofherwayandtrippedtowardsthefountain.

At thesightofherneatanddignified figure therewasamoment’ssilence.Thecrowdgaveherarespectfulstare.TheMatchMantookoffhiscap.

“Goodafternoon,Bert!”shesaid,withabow.Buttheladylikesmilefrozeonherlipsasherglancefelluponthechildren.

“MayIaskwhatyouthinkyou’redoing,Jane?Andyoutoo,Michael!LetgoofthatPoliceman!IsthisagardenoraCannibalIsland?”

“ACannibalIsland!”criedtheyoungestPrince,laughingwithjoyasherantowards her. “At last! At last,Mary Poppins!” he murmured, as he flung hisarmsroundherwaist.

“Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins!” cried the elder brothers as they leapttogetheroverthefountainandseizedherkid-glovedhands.

“Whin-n-n-e-e-e-h-o-o-o!” The Unicorn gave a happy neigh and, trottingdaintilytowardsher,hetouchedhishorntoherblack-buttonedshoe.

MaryPoppins’eyesdarkened.

“Florimond!Veritain!Amor!Whatareyoudoinghere?”“Well,thebookfellopen—”“AtJaneandMichael’sstory—”“Sowejustjumpedintothepicture...”ThethreePrinceshungtheirheadsastheyallansweredtogether.“Thenyou’dbetterjumpoutofit–spit-spot!You’reverynaughtyboys!”Amorgaveheralovingsmile.“Andyou’reanaughtygirl!”heretorted.“Goingawayandleavinguswith

neveraWordofWarning!”Michaelstared.HeloosedhisholdonthePoliceman’slegandrantoAmor.“DoyouknowMaryPoppins?”hedemanded.“Anddidshedo that toyou

too?” He felt rather jealous of his friend. Would he ever be so brave, hewondered,astocallheranaughtygirl?

“Of course we know her. And she’s always doing it – coming and goingWithoutaWord.Oh,don’tbecrosswithus,MaryPoppins!”Amor lookedupwithanimpishgrin.“Iseeyou’vegotanewhat!”

Aghostofasmilecreptroundhermouth,butshechangeditintoasniff.“Yourfaceisdirty,Amor,asusual!”Andwhippingoutherlace-edgedhandkerchiefshedabbeditquicklyagainst

his tongue,gavehischeekavigorousrubandtuckedthehandkerchief intohispocket.

“H’m. That’s more like it,” she said tartly. “Florimond, put your cap onstraight. Itwasalwaysononeside, I remember.And,Veritain,willyouneverlearn? If I’ve toldyouonce, I’ve toldyou twice, to tieyour laceswithdoubleknots.Justlookatyourslippers!”

Veritainstoopedtohisvelvetshoesandtiedthestragglingcords.“Yes–youremember,MaryPoppins!”Florimondstraightenedthesetofhis

cap.“But,exceptforJaneandMichaelandBert,youaretheonlyone.AlltheywantistheUnicorn.”Hepointedtothewatchingcrowd.“Andtheycan’tevenagreeabouthim.”

TheUnicornnoddedhissilverheadandhisblueeyeblazedwithwrath.“Pooh!”MaryPoppins turneduphernose. “What else couldyouexpect–

fromthem?It’stheirmisfortune,Florimond.Nofaultofyours!”ThePolicemanblushedasredasabeetrootbeneathherscornfulgaze.“Iremembermyduty!”hesaiddoggedly.“Irememberthepublic’sentertainment!”MrMudgebristled.“I remember the Head Keeper!” whispered the Keeper of the Zoological

Gardens.“Wait! I remember something else!”TheParkKeeper clappedhis hand to

hisbrow.“’Arfaminute–it’scomingback.Icanseemeoldmotherreadin’aloud.A

silverbook.Andthecatby thefire.Andthem. . .”Heflungoutahandto thePrinces.

“And them andme goin’ ’and in ’and. Therewas flower and fruit on thesamebranchandaUnycorntrottin’throughtheforest.Oh,what’as’appened?”hecriedaloud.“Me’eart isbeatin’ thewayitusedto!Ifeel likeIfeltwhenIwasaboy.NoLitter,noBye-laws,noLordMayor,andsausagesforsupper.Oh,nowIrememberyou,Mister–er–Prince...”

TheParkKeeperturnedtoFlorimond.Hissombrefacehadquitechanged.Itwasgleamingwithhappiness.

“Asooveneer!”heshoutedgaily.“Somethingforyoutoremembermeby!”And recklessly he dashed at the flower-beds and snapped off three of the

largestroses.“Ishallgetintotrouble,butwhatdoIcare?I’mdoin’itforyou!”Withashy

andhumblegesture,hethrusttheflowersatFlorimond.Grave and glad were Florimond’s eyes as he touched the Park Keeper’s

cheek.“Thankyou.”Hesmiled.“Ishallkeepthemalways.”“Aw!” The Park Keeper gave an embarrassed laugh. “You can’t do that.

They’llfade,youknow!”“Oh,no,theywon’t!”criedMissLarksuddenly.“Intheircountry,dearPark

Keeper,therosesbloomforever.”SheturnedtothePrinceseagerly,withherhandsagainstherheart.“Oh,howcouldIhaveforgotten?”shemurmured.“Itwasyesterday–orthe

daybefore!Iwaswearingapinaforetiedattheback—”“Andbutton-boots,”putinVeritain.“And yellow curls with a blue ribbon,” said Amor helpfully. “She does

remember!”hecriedtohisbrothers,smilingatMissLark.“And you were everywhere!” she whispered. “Playing beside me in the

sunlight,swingingwithmeonthegardengate.Thebirdsinthetreeswereyoudisguised. I stepped over every ant and beetle for fear itmight be one ofmyPrinces.ImeanttomarryaKing–Iremember–oratleastaCaliph’syoungerson.Andyouthreeweretobealwaysnearme.Andthen–oh,whathappened?How did I lose you?Was it really only yesterday?Where are my curls, my

yellowcurls?WhyamIallaloneintheworld,exceptfortwolittledogs?”Andrew and Willoughby glanced up indignantly. “Except, indeed!” they

seemedtosay.“Yes,yes,I’mgettingold,”saidMissLark,asshepeeredthroughherwisps

of hair. “I’ll forget you again,mydarlingPrinces!But, oh, do not forgetme!Whatshall Igiveyou toremembermeby?Ihave lost–”shescrabbled inherpockets–“somanyofmypossessions!”

“We will never forget you,” said Veritain gently. “And you’ve given ussomethingalready.”

Hedrewhisvelvetsleeveasideandshowedhertheglitterathiswrist.“Mybracelet!Butit’sonlyglass!”“No!”criedVeritain.“Rubies!Sapphires!”He raised his hand above his head and the bracelet shone so bright in the

sunsetthatitdazzledeveryeye.“Golly!”thePolicemanmuttered.“He’sstolentheCrownJewels!”“Oh!”breathedMissLark,assheclaspedherhandsandgazedattheshining

stones.“Iunderstand,”shemurmuredsoftly.“Professor,Professor,doyousee?”ButtheProfessorputhishandtohiseyesandturnedhisheadaway.“I have seen too much,” he said sadly. “I have seen how foolish I am!

Books!”hecried,tossingthevolumefromhim.“Magnifying-glasses!”Heflungthe glass among the roses. “Alas, alas! I have wasted my time. Florimond,Veritain,Amor–Irecogniseyounow!”HeturnedhistearfulfacetothePrinces.

“Oh, Beauty, Truth and Love,” he whispered. “To think that I knew youwhenIwasalad!TothinkthatIcouldforget!Alldaylongyouranatmyside.Andyourvoicescalledtomeinthedusk–Follow!Follow!Follow!Iseeitnow–I’vebeen looking forwisdom.Butwisdomwas thereandI turnedmyback.I’vebeenrunningawayfromiteversince,tryingtofinditinbooks.Sofaraway–”theProfessorhidhisfaceinhisarm–“thatwhenImetaUnicorn,IimaginedIcouldhavehimstuffed!Oh,howcan Imakeup for that? Ihaveno rose,nojewels,nothing.”

Heglancedabouthimdoubtfullyandputhishandtohisforehead.Andashedidsohisfacecleared.Ahappythoughthadstruckhim.

“Take this,my child!” he said toAmor, as he plucked the newspaper hatfrom his brow. “Your way is long and the night will be chilly and you’venothingonyourhead!”

“Thankyou,Professor!”Amorsmiledandsetthehatatajauntyangleover

hiscrownofcurls.“Ihopeyouwillnotbecoldwithoutit.”“Cold?” the Professor murmured vaguely, as his gaze slipped past the

Princes to thesnow-whitecreatureon the lawn.Heputoutanaged, tremblinghandandtheUnicornrosefromthedewygrassandcalmlycametohisside.

“Forgiveme!”theProfessorwhispered.“ItwasnotIthatwouldhavestuffedyou.Amadmanwearingmyskin–notI!No,no!I’llneverbecoldagain.IhavestrokedaUnicorn!”

His fingers touched themilky neck.TheUnicorn stoodmild and still.Hisblueeyesdidnotflicker.

“That’sright,Professor!”saidthePolicemancheerfully.“Nogoodtryingtostuffah’animalthatbyrightsbelongstotheLaw!”

“He belongs to the Law,” the Professormurmured. “But not the Law youknow—”

“TheFair!”insistedMrMudge,elbowingpastthePoliceman.“Yes!AllisFairwherehecomesfrom.”TheProfessorstrokedtheUnicorn’s

nose.“He’ll be among the stars of the Zoo,” the Zoo Keeper promised

breathlessly.“He’ll be among the stars,” said the Professor, touching the tip of the

Unicorn’shorn,“butfar,farfromtheZoo.”“Exactly, Professor! You’re a sensible chap! Now, I’ve no more time for

h’argument.TheboysandthebeastareunderarrestandI’mtakingthemofftothePoliceStation!”

ThePolicemanputoutadeterminedhandandseizedtheUnicorn’sbridle.“Quick,Florimond!”warnedMaryPoppins.AndFlorimond,withasinglebound,leaptontheUnicorn’sback.UpwentVeritainbehindhim.“Goodbye,Michael,”whisperedAmor,hugginghimround thewaist.Then

withagraceful,runningleaphelandedbehindhisbrothers.“Oh,donotleaveme!”criedMissLark.“Imayforgetagain!”“Iwon’tforget!”saidMichaelstoutly,wavinghishandtoAmor.“NorI!Oh,never!”echoedJane,withalonglookatFlorimondandVeritain.

Shefeltthattheirfaceswereinherheartforever.“If you remember,we’ll come again!” Florimond promised, smiling. “Are

youready,mybrothers?Wemustgo!”“Ready!”theyoungerPrincescried.ThenonebyonetheyleantsidewaysandkissedMaryPoppins.

“We’llbewaitingforyou,”saidFlorimond.“Donotbelong!”urgedVeritain.“Comebacktous,”saidAmor,laughing,“withatulipinyourhat!”Shetriedtolookstern,butshesimplycouldn’t.Herfirmlipstrembledintoa

smileasshegazedattheirshiningfaces.“Get along with you – and behave yourselves!” she said with surprising

softness.Thensheraisedherparrot-headedumbrellaandtouchedtheUnicorn’sflank.Atonceheliftedhissilverheadandpointedhishornatthesky.“Remember!”criedFlorimond,wavinghisroses.Veritainheldhishandaloftandsetthebraceletsparkling.Amorflourishedthehandkerchief.“Remember!Remember!” theycried together,as theUnicornboundedinto

theair.TheParkseemedtotrembleinthefadinglightashishoovesflashedoverthe

fountain. A streak of colour shone above the spray, a shimmer of velvet andgold.A singlemoment ofmoving brightness and after that – nothing. PrincesandUnicornweregone.Onlyafar,faintecho–“Remember!”–camebacktothesilentwatchers.Andthepagesofthebookonthelawnstirredintheeveningbreeze.

“Afterthem!”thePolicemanshouted.“Robbers!Desperadoes!”HeblewhiswhistlevigorouslyanddashedacrosstheRoseGarden.“A trick!A trick!” yelledMrMudge. “The InvisibleHorse and his Three

Riders!Why,it’sbetterthanSawingaLadyinHalf!Comeback,mylads,andI’llbuyyoursecret!Wasitthisway?Thatway?Wheredidtheygo?”

Andoffhewent,dodgingamongthetrees,inhissearchforthelostPrinces.“Oh,dear,”moanedtheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardens.“Heretodayand

gonetomorrow!Justlikethebutterflies!”HegaveMaryPoppinsanervouslookandhurriedawaytotheZoo.Foramoment theonlysound in thegardenwas themusicof the fountain.

ThenMissLarksighedandbrokethesilence.“Why,goodnessme–howlateitis!Now,IwonderwhereIleftmygloves!

AndwhatdidIdowithmyscarf?Iseemtohavelostmyspectacles.Gracious,yes–andmybracelettoo!”

Hereyeswidenedandsheyawnedalittleasthoughshewerecomingoutofadream.

“YougaveittoVeritain!”Janeremindedher.

“Veritain? Veritain?Who can that be? It sounds like something out of astory. I expect you are dreaming, Jane, as usual! Andrew andWilloughby –comealong!Oh,ChiefProfessor!Hownicetoseeyou!Butwhatareyoudoinghere?”

TheProfessorgaveherapuzzledglanceandhetooyawnedalittle.“I–I’mnotquitesure,”heansweredvaguely.“Andwithoutahat–youmustbecold!Comehomewithme,Professor,do!

Andwe’llallhavemuffinsfortea.”“Muffins?Er–hum.IusedtolikemuffinswhenIwasalad,butIhaven’t

hadonesince.AndIhadahatthisafternoon.Now,whathaveIdonewithit?”“Amoriswearingit!”criedMichael.“Amor?Isthatafriendofyours?He’swelcome!Itwasonlypaper.ButI’m

notabitcold,MissLark–er–hum!Ihaveneverfeltsowarminmylife.”TheProfessorsmiledacontentedsmile.“AndI,”saidMissLarkwithatrilloflaughter,“haveneverfeltsohappy.I

can’tthinkwhy–butthereitis.Come,dearestdogs!Thisway,Professor!”And,takingtheProfessorbythehand,sheledhimoutoftheRoseGarden.JaneandMichaelstaredafterthem.“Whatisyourother–er–hum!–name?”theyheardhimvaguelyasking.“LucindaEmily,”shereplied,asshedrewhimtowardstheGate.“Eee–ow–oo!Iwas’arfasleep!”TheParkKeeperyawnedandstretched

hisarmsandglancedaroundthegarden.“’Ere!Wot’s all this?” he demanded loudly. “Someone’s been pickin’ the

flowers!”“Youdidityourself,”saidJane,laughing.“Don’t you remember?” Michael reminded him. “You gave them to

Florimond.”“What? Me pick a rose? I wouldn’t dare! And yet. . .”The Park Keeper

frowned inperplexity. “It’s funny. I’m feelingquitebrave tonight. If theLordMayorhimselfwere to comealong, Iwouldn’t somuch as tremble.Andwhyshouldn’tFlorrieWat’s-a-name ’ave them, insteadof themdyin’on thebush?Well,Imustbegettin’’ometomemother.Tch!Tch!Tch!RemembertheBye-laws!”TheParkKeeperpouncedontwodarkobjects.

“All Litter to be placed in the Baskets!” he cried, as he bore away theProfessor’sbookandmagnifying-glassanddumpedthemintoalitter-basket.

Jane sighed. “They’ve forgotten already, all of them. Miss Lark, theProfessor,andnowtheParkKeeper.”

“Yes,”agreedMichael,shakinghishead.“Andwhathaveyouforgotten,pray?”MaryPoppins’eyeswerebrightinthe

sunsetandsheseemedtocomebacktotheRoseGardenfromveryfaraway.“Oh,nothing,MaryPoppins,nothing!”Withthehappyassurancetheyranto

herside.AsiftheycouldeverforgetthePrincesandthestrangeandwonderfulvisit!

“Thenwhatisthatbookdoingthere?”Shepointedherblack-glovedfingeratTheSilverFairyBook.

“Oh,that!”Michaeldartedtogetit.“Wait for me, Mary Poppins!” he cried, pushing his way through the

watchingcrowdthatwasstillstaringupatthesky.TheMatchMantooktheperambulatorandsentitcreakingoutofthegarden.

MaryPoppinsstoodstillintheentrancewithherparrotumbrellaunderherarmandherhandbaghangingfromherwrist.

“Iremembereverything,”saidMichael,ashehurriedbacktoherside.“AndsodoesJane–don’tyou,Jane?Andyoudotoo,MaryPoppins!”Thethreeofus,hethoughttohimself,weallremembertogether.

MaryPoppinsquickenedherstepsandtheycaughtupwiththeperambulator.“IrememberthatIwantmytea,ifthat’swhatyoumean!”shesaid.“IwonderifAmordrinkstea!”musedMichael,runningbesideher.“Tea!”cried theMatchMan thirstily.“Hotandstrong, that’showI like it.

Andatleastthreelumpsofsugar!”“Doyouthinkthey’renearlyhome,MaryPoppins?Howlongisitfromhere

tothere?”MichaelwasthinkingaboutthePrinces.Hecouldnotgetthemoutofhishead.

“I’mnearlyhome,that’sallIknow,”sherepliedconceitedly.“They’ll come again, they said they would!” He skipped with joy at the

thought.Thenherememberedsomethingelseandstoodstock-stillwithdismay.“But youwon’t go back to them,Mary Poppins?”He seized her arm and

shook it. “Weneedyoumore than thePrinces do.They’ve got theUnicorn –that’s enough. Oh, p-p-please,Mary P-pop-pins!” Hewas now so anxious hecouldhardlyspeak.“P-p-promisemeyouwon’tgobackwithat-t-tulipinyourhat!”

Shestaredathiminangryastonishment.“Princeswithtulipsintheirhats?MeonthebackofaUnicorn?Ifyou’reso

goodatremembering,I’llthankyoutorememberme!AmIthekindofpersonthatwouldgalloparoundona—”

“No,no!You’remixingitallup.Youdon’tunderstand,MaryPoppins!”“I understand that you’re behaving like a Hottentot. Me on a Unicorn,

indeed!Letmego,Michael,ifyouplease.IhopeIcanwalkwithoutassistance.Andyoucandothesame!”

“Oh!Oh!She’sforgottenalready!”hewailed,turningtoJaneforcomfort.“ButtheMatchManremembers,don’tyou,Bert?”ImpulsivelyJaneranto

himandlookedforhisreassuringsmile.The Match Man took no notice. He was pushing the perambulator on a

zigzagcourseandgazingatMaryPoppins.Youwouldhavethoughtshewastheonlypersonintheworld,thewayhelookedather.

“You see!He’s forgotten too,” saidMichael. “But itmust have happened,mustn’tit,Jane?Afterall,I’vegotthedagger!”

Hefeltforthedaggerinhisbelt,buthishandclosedonnothing.“It’s gone!” he stared at hermournfully. “Hemust have taken itwhen he

huggedmegoodbye.Orelseitwasn’ttrueatall.Doyouthinkweonlydreamedit?”

“Perhaps,” she answered uncertainly, glancing from the empty belt to thecalmandunexcitedfacesoftheMatchManandMaryPoppins.“But,oh–”shethoughtofFlorimond’ssmilingeyes–“Iwassosuretheywerereal!”

They took each other’s hands for comfort and leaning their heads on eachother’sshoulderstheywalkedalongtogether,thinkingofthethreebrightfiguresandthegentlefairysteed.

Duskfellaboutthemastheywent.Thetreeslikeshadowsbentabovethem.AndastheycametothebiggatetheysteppedintoapooloflightfromthenewlylitlampintheLane.

“Let’slookatthemonceagain,”saidJane.Saditwouldbe,butalsosweet,toseetheirpicturedfaces.ShetookthebookfromMichael’shandandopeneditatthewell-knownpage.

“Yes!Thedagger’sinhisbelt,”shemurmured.“Justasitalwayswas.”Thenhereyesrovedovertherestofthepictureandshegaveaquick,gladcry.

“Oh,Michael,look!Itwasnotadream.Iknew,Iknewitwastrue!”“Where?Where?Showmequickly!”Hefollowedherpointingfinger.“Oh!”hecried,drawinginhisbreath.And“Oh!”hesaid.Andagain“Oh!”

Therewasnothingelsetosay.Forthepicturewasnotasithadbeen.Thefruitsandflowersstillshoneon

thetreeandthereonthegrassthePrincesstoodwiththeUnicornbesidethem.ButnowinthecrookofFlorimond’sarmtherelayabunchofroses;alittle

circlet of coloured stones gleamed on Veritain’s wrist; Amor was wearing apaperhatperchedonthebackofhisheadandfromthepocketofhisjerkintherepeepedalace-edgedhandkerchief.

JaneandMichaelsmileddownonthepage.AndthethreePrincessmiledupfromthebookandtheireyesseemedtotwinkleinthelamplight.

“Theyrememberus!”declaredJaneintriumph.“And we remember them!” crowed Michael. “Even if Mary Poppins

doesn’t.”“Oh,indeed?”hervoiceenquiredbehindthem.They glanced up quickly and there she stood, a pink-cheeked Dutch Doll

figure,asneatasanewpin.“AndwhathaveIforgotten,pray?”Shesmiledasshespoke,butnotat them.Hereyeswerefixedonthethree

Princes.ShenoddedcomplacentlyatthepictureandthenattheMatchManwhonoddedback.

And suddenly Michael understood. He knew that she remembered. HowcouldheandJanehavedaredtoimaginethatshewouldeverforget!

Heturnedandhidhisfaceinherskirt.“You’veforgottennothing,MaryPoppins.Itwasjustmylittlemistake.”“Little!”Shegaveanoutragedsniff.“Buttellme,MaryPoppins,”beggedJane,asshelookedfromthecoloured

picture-book to the confident face above her. “Which are the children in thestory–thePrinces,orJaneandMichael?”

MaryPoppinswas silent for amoment.Sheglancedat thechildrenbeforeher.HereyeswereasblueastheUnicorn’s,asshetookJane’shandinhers.

Theywaitedbreathlesslyforheranswer.It seemed to trembleonher lips.Thewordswereon the tipofher tongue.

Andthen–shechangedhermind.PerhapssherememberedthatMaryPoppinsnevertoldanyoneanything.

Shesmiledatantalisingsmile.“Iwonder!”shesaid.

ChapterFive

THEPARKINTHEPARK

“ANOTHER SANDWICH, PLEASE!” saidMichael, sprawling acrossMary Poppins’legsashereachedforthepicnicbasket.

ItwasEllen’sDayOutandMrsBrillhadgone to seehercousin’sniece’snewbaby.SothechildrenwerehavingteainthePark,awaybytheWildCorner.

ThiswastheonlyplaceintheParkthatwasnevermownorweeded.Clover,daisies,buttercups,bluebells,grewashighasthechildren’swaists.Nettlesanddandelionsflauntedtheirblossoms,fortheyknewverywellthattheParkKeeperwouldneverhavetimetorootthemout.NoneofthemObservedtheRules.Theyscatteredtheirseedsacrossthelawns,jostledeachotherforthebestplaces,andcrowdedtogethersocloselythattheirstemswerealwaysinshadowydarkness.

Mary Poppins, in a sprigged cotton dress, sat bolt upright in a clump ofbluebells.

She was thinking, as she darned the socks, that pretty though the WildCornerwas,sheknewofsomethingprettier.Ifitcametoachoicebetween,say,abunchofcloverandherself,itwouldnotbetheclovershewouldchoose.

Thefourchildrenwerescatteredabouther.Annabelbouncedintheperambulator.And not far off, among the nettles, the ParkKeeper wasmaking a daisy-

chain.Birdswerepipingoneverybough,andtheIceCreamMansangcheerfullyas

hetrundledhisbarrowalong.Thenoticeonthefrontsaid:

THEDAYISHOTBUTICECREAM’SNOT

“Iwonderifhe’scominghere,”Janemurmuredtoherself.Shewaslyingfacedownwardsinthegrass,makinglittlePlasticinefigures.“Where have those sandwiches gone?” cried Michael, scrabbling in the

basket.“Besokind,Michael,astogetoffmylegs.IamnotaTurkeycarpet!The

sandwicheshaveallbeeneaten.Youhadthelastyourself.”MaryPoppinsheavedhimon to thegrass and tookupherdarningneedle.

Besideher,amugofwarmtea,sprinkledwithgrassseedandnettleflowers,sentupadeliciousfragrance.

“But,MaryPoppins,I’veonlyhadsix!”“That’s three too many,” she retorted. “You’ve eaten your share and

Barbara’s.”“Takin’thefoodfrom’issister’smouth–whatnext?”saidtheParkKeeper.Hesniffedtheairandlickedhislips,justlikeathirstydog.“Nothin’tobeata’otcupo’tea!”heremarkedtoMaryPoppins.Withdignifiedcalmshetookupthemug.“Nothing,”sheanswered,sipping.“Exactlywhatapersonneedsatthe’eightoftheh’afternoon!”Hegavethe

teapotawistfulglance.“Exactly,”sheagreedserenely,asshepouredherselfanothercup.The Park Keeper sighed and plucked a daisy. The pot, he knew, was not

empty.“Well–anotherspongecake,then,MaryPoppins!”“The cakes are finished too, Michael. What are you, pray – a boy or a

crocodile?”Hewouldhavelikedtosayhewasacrocodile,butaglanceatherfacewas

enoughtoforbidit.“John!”hecoaxed,withacrocodilesmile.“Wouldyoulikemetoeatyour

crusts?”“No!”saidJohn,ashegobbledthemup.“ShallIhelpyouwithyourbiscuit,Barbara?”“No!”sheprotestedthroughthecrumbs.MichaelshookhisheadinreproachandturnedtoAnnabel.There she sat, like a queen in her carriage, clutching her little mug. The

perambulatorgroanedloudlyasshebouncedupanddown.Itwaslookingmorebatteredthanevertoday.ForRobertsonAy,afterdoingnothingallthemorning,hadleantagainstittotakearestandbrokenthewoodenhandle.

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” Mrs Banks had cried. “Why couldn’t he lean onsomething stronger?MaryPoppins,what shallwe do?We can’t afford a newone!”

“I’lltakeittomycousin,ma’am.He’llmakeitasgoodasnew.”

“Well–ifyouthinkhereallycan...”MrsBankscastadoubtfuleyeonthebarofsplinteredwood.

MaryPoppinsdrewherselfup.“Amember ofmy family,ma’am—”Her voice seemed to come from the

NorthPole.“Oh,yes!Indeed!Quiteso!Exactly!”MrsBanksnervouslybackedaway.“Butwhy,”shesilentlyaskedherself,“isherfamilysosuperior?Sheisfar

toovainandself-satisfied.Ishalltellhersosomeday.”But, looking at that stern face and listening to those reproving sniffs, she

knewshewouldneverdare.Michaelrolledoveramongthedaisies,hungrilychewingabladeofgrass.“When are you going to take the perambulator to your cousin, Mary

Poppins?”“Everythingcomestohimwhowaits.Allinmyowngoodtime!”“Oh!Well,Annabelisn’ttakinghermilk.Wouldyoulikemetodrinkitfor

her?”ButatthatmomentAnnabelliftedhermuganddrainedthelastdrop.“Mary Poppins!” he wailed. “I’ll starve to death – just like Robinson

Crusoe.”“Hedidn’tstarvetodeath,”saidJane.Shewasbusilyclearingaspaceinthe

weeds.“Well,theSwissFamilyRobinson,then,”saidMichael.“TheSwissFamilyalwayshadplenty toeat.ButI’mnothungry,Michael.

Youcanhavemycakeifyoulike.”Dear,kind,sensibleJane!hethought,ashetookthecake.“What areyoumaking?”he enquired, flinginghimself on thegrass beside

her.“A Park for Poor People,” she replied. “Everyone is happy there. And

nobodyeverquarrels.”Shetossedasideahandfulofleavesandhesaw,amidthewildweed,atidy

squareofgreen.Itwasthreadedwithlittlepebbledpathsaswideasafinger-nail.And beside them were tiny flower-beds made of petals massed together. Asummer-house of nettle twigs nestled on the lawn; flowers were stuck in theearthfortrees;andintheirshadestoodtwigbenches,veryneatandinviting.

Ononeof these sat aPlasticineman,nomore thanan inchhigh.His facewasround,hisbodywasroundandsowerehisarmsandlegs.Theonlypointedthing about him was his little turned-up nose. He was reading a Plasticine

newspaperandaPlasticinetool-baglayathisfeet.“Who’sthat?”askedMichael.“Heremindsmeofsomeone.ButIcan’tthink

whoitis!”Janethoughtforamoment.“HisnameisMrMo,”shedecided.“Heisrestingafterhismorninglabours.

Hehadawifesittingnexttohim,butherhatwentwrong,soIcrumbledherup.I’ll try again with the last of the Plasticine.” She glanced at the shapeless,colouredlumpthatlaybehindthesummer-house.

“Andthat?”Hepointedtoafemininefigurethatstoodbyoneoftheflower-beds.

“That’sMrsHickory,”saidJane.“She’sgoingtohaveahousetoo.AndafterthatIshallbuildaFunFair.”

HegazedattheplumplittlePlasticinewomanandadmiredthewayherhaircurledandthetwolargedimplesinhercheeks.

“DosheandMrMoknoweachother?”“Oh,yes.TheymeetonthewaytotheLake.”Andsheshowedhimalittlepebblyhollowwhere,whenMaryPoppins’head

wasturned,shehadpouredhermugofmilk.AttheendoftheLakeaPlasticinestatueremindedMichaelofNeleus.

“Ordownby the swing.”Shepointed to twoupright sticks fromwhichanevensmallerstickhungonastrandofdarningwool.

Michaeltouchedtheswingwithhisfinger-tipanditswayedbackwardsandforwards.

“Andwhat’sthatunderthebuttercup?”Ascrapofcardboardfromthe lidof thecake-boxhadbeenbent toforma

table.Arounditstoodseveralcardboardstoolsanduponitwasspreadamealsotemptingthatakingmighthaveenviedit.

In the centre stood a two-tiered cake and around itwere bowls piled highwith fruit – peaches, cherries, bananas, oranges.One end of the table bore anapple-pie and the other a ham in a pink ham-frill. There were sausages, andcurrantbuns,andapatofbutteronalittlegreenplatter.Eachplacewassetwithaplateandamugandabottleofgingerwine.

Thebuttercup-treespreadoverthefeast.JanehadsettwoPlasticinedovesinitsbranchesandabumble-beebuzzedamongitsflowers.

“Goaway,greedyfly!”criedMichael,asasmallblackshapesettledontheham.“Oh,dear!Howhungryitmakesmefeel!”

Jane gazedwith pride at her handiwork. “Don’t drop your crumbs on the

lawn,Michael.Theymakeitlookuntidy.”“Idon’tseeanyLitter-baskets.AllIcanseeisanantinthegrass.”Heswept

hiseyesroundthetinyPark,soneatamidthewildweed.“ThereisneveranyLitter,”saidJane.“MrMolightsthefirewithhispaper.

AndhesaveshisorangepeelforChristmaspuddings.Oh,Michael,don’tbenddownsoclose,you’rekeepingthesunaway!”

HisshadowlayovertheParklikeacloud.“Sorry!”hesaid,ashebentsideways.Andthesunlightglinteddownagain

asJaneliftedMrMoandhistool-bagandsetthembesidethetable.“Isithisdinner-time?”askedMichael.“Well–no!”saidalittlescratchyvoice.“Asamatteroffact,it’sbreakfast!”“HowcleverJaneis!”thoughtMichaeladmiringly.“Shecannotonlymake

alittleoldman,shecantalklikeoneaswell.”Buthereyes,ashemetthem,werefullofquestions.“Didyouspeak,Michael,inthatsqueakyway?”“Ofcoursehedidn’t,”saidthevoiceagain.And,turning,theysawthatMrMowaswavinghishatingreeting.Hisrosy

facewaswreathedinsmilesandhisturned-upnosehadacheerfullook.“It isn’t what you call the meal. It’s how it tastes that matters. Help

yourself!”hecriedtoMichael.“Agrowingladisalwayshungry.Takeapieceofpie!”

“I’mhavingabeautifuldream,”thoughtMichael,hurriedlyhelpinghimself.“Don’teatit,Michael.It’sPlasticine!”“It’snot!It’sapple!”hecried,withhismouthfull.“ButIknow!Imadeitmyself!”JaneturnedtoMrMo.“Youdid?”MrMoseemedverysurprised.“Isupposeyoumeanyouhelped

to make it. Well, I’m very glad you did, my girl. Too many cooks make adeliciousbroth!”

“Theywouldspoilit,youmean,”correctedJane.“Oh,no,no!Notinmyopinion.Oneputsonething,oneanother–oatmeal,

cucumber,pepper,tripe.Themerrierthemore,youknow!”“Themoreofwhat?”askedMichael,staring.“Everything!” Mr Mo replied. “There’s more of everything when one’s

merry.Takeapeach!”HeturnedtoJane.“Itmatchesyourcomplexion.”Fromsheerpoliteness–forshecouldnotdisappointthatsmilingface–Jane

took the fruit and tasted. Refreshing juice ran over her chin, the peach-stonegratedagainstherteeth.

“Delicious!”shecriedinastonishment.“Of course it is!” crowedMrMo. “Asmydearwife alwaysused to say–

‘Youcan’tgobythelookofathing,it’swhat’sinsidethatmatters.’”“Whathappenedtoher?”askedMichaelpolitely,ashehelpedhimselftoan

orange.Hehadquiteforgotten, inthejoyoffindingmoretoeat, thatJanehadcrumbledherup.

“I lost her,”murmuredMrMo.Hegave his head a sorrowful shake as hepoppedtheorangepeelintohispocket.

Janefeltherselfblushing.“Well–herhatwouldn’tsitonstraight,”shefaltered.Butnowitseemedto

herthatthiswashardlyagoodenoughreasonforgettingridofthehat’sowner.“Iknow,Iknow!Shewasalwaysratheranawkwardshape.Nothingseemed

tofither.Ifitwasn’therhatitwasherboots.Evenso–Iwasfondofher.MrMoheavedaheavysigh.“However,”hewentongloomily,“I’vefoundanotherone!”

“Anotherwife?”criedJaneinsurprise.SheknewshehadnotmadetwoMrsMo’s.“Butyouhaven’thadtimeforthat!”

“Notime?Why,I’veallthetimeintheworld.Lookatthosedandelions!”HewavedhischubbyhandroundthePark.“AndIhadtohavesomeonetocareforthe children. Can’t do everything myself. So – I troubled trouble before ittroubledmeandgotmyselfmarried just now.This feast here is ourwedding-breakfast.But, alas–”heglancedaroundhimnervously–“every silver lininghasacloud.I’mafraidImadeabadchoice.”

“Coo-roo!Coo-roo!Wetoldyouso!”

criedthePlasticinedovesfromtheirbranch.“Children?”saidJane,withapuzzledfrown.Shewassureshehadmadeno

children.“Three fine boys,” Mr Mo said proudly. “Surely you two have heard of

them!Hi!”heshouted,cuppinghishands.“Eenie,Meenie,Mynie–whereareyou?”

JaneandMichaelstaredateachotherandthenatMrMo.“Oh,ofcoursewe’veheardofthem,”agreedMichael.

“‘Eenie,Meenie,MynieMo,CatchanIndianbythe—’

ButIthoughttheywereonlywordsinagame.”MrMosmiledateasingsmile.“Takemy advice,my dear young friend, and don’t do toomuch thinking.

Badfortheappetite.Badforthebrain.Themoreyouthink,thelessyouknow,asmy dear – er – firstwife used to say.But I can’t spend all day chattering,muchasIenjoyit!”Hepluckedadandelionballandblewtheseedsontheair.

“Goodness,yes,it’sfouro’clock.AndI’vegotajobtodo.”He took fromhis tool-bagapieceofwoodandbegan topolish itwithhis

apron.“Whatkindofworkdoyoudo?”askedMichael.“Can’tyouread?”criedthechubbyman,wavingtowardsthesummer-house.TheyturnedtoJane’s littleshelterof twigsandsawto theirsurprise that it

had grown larger. The stickswere solid logs ofwood and instead of the airyspacebetweenthemtherewerenowwhitewallsandcurtainedwindows.Abovethemroseanew thatched roof,andasturdychimneypuffed forthsmoke.Theentrancewasclosedbyaredfrontdoorbearingawhiteplacard.

S.MO(itsaid)BUILDER

ANDCARPENTER

“ButIdidn’tbuildthehouselikethat!Whoalteredit?”Janedemanded.“I did, of course.”MrMogrinned. “Couldn’t live in it as itwas– far too

dampanddraughty.Whatdidyousay–youbuiltmyhouse?”Hechuckledatthemereidea.“Alittlewispofalasslikeyou,notashighasmyelbow!”

ThiswasreallytoomuchforJane.“It’syouwhoarelittle,”sheprotested.“ImadeyouofstrawandPlasticine!

You’renotasbigasmythumb!”“Ha,ha!That’sagoodone.Mademeofhaywhile thesunshone– is that

whatyou’re tellingme?Straw, indeed!” laughedMrMo.“You’re just likemychildren–alwaysdreaming.Andwonderfuldreamstheyare!”

Hegaveherheadalittlepat.Andashedidsosherealisedthatshewasnot,indeed, as high as his elbow.Beneath the branch of yellow blossomsMrMotoweredaboveher.The lawns that sheherselfhadpluckednowstretched to adistant woodland. And beyond that nothing could she see. The big Park hadentirely disappeared, as the world outside disappears when we cross the

thresholdofhome.She looked up. The bumble-bee seemed like a moving cloud. The

shimmeringflythatdartedpastwasaboutthesizeofastarlingandtheantthatgaveherabrightblackstarewasnearlyashighasherankle.

Whathadhappened?HadMrMogrowntaller,orwasitthatsheherselfhaddwindled?ItwasMichaelwhoansweredthequestion.

“Jane! Jane!” he cried. “We’re in your Park. I thought it was just a tinypatch,butnowit’sasbigastheworld!”

“Well,Iwouldn’tsaythat,”MrMoobserved.“Itonlystretchesasfarastheforest,butit’sbigenoughforus.”

Michael turned,athiswords, towardsthewoodland.Itwasdenseandwildandmysterious,andsomeofthetreeshadgiantblooms.

“Daisies thesizeofumbrellas!”hegasped.“Andbluebells largeenough tobathein!”

“Yes, it’s a wonderful wood,” Mr Mo agreed, eyeing the forest with acarpenter’seye.“My–er–secondwifewantsmetocut itdownandsell it tomakemy fortune.But this is aPark forPoorPeople.Whatwould Idowithafortune?My own idea – but thatwas before thewedding, of course –was tobuildalittleFunFair—”

“Ithoughtofthattoo,”Janebrokein,smiling.“Well,happymindsthinkalike,youknow!WhatdoyousaytoaMerry-Go-

Round?ACoconut-shy,andsomeSwinging-boats?Andfreetoall,friendsandstrangers alike?Hurrah, I knew you’d agreewithme!”He clapped his handsexcitedly.Butsuddenlytheeagerlookdiedawayfromhisface.

“Oh,it’snogoodplanning,”hewentonsadly.“Shedoesn’tapproveofFunFairs–toofrivolousandnomoneyinthem.WhataterriblemistakeI’vemade–marriedinhastetorepentatleisure!Butit’snogoodcryingoverspiltmilk!”

MrMo’seyesbrimmedupwithtears,andJanewasjustabouttoofferhimher handkerchief when a clatter of feet sounded on the lawn and his facesuddenlybrightened.

“Papa!”crieda trioof squeakyvoices.And three little figures sprangoverthepath and flung themselves into his arms.Theywere all alike, as peas in apod;andtheimageoftheirfather.

“Papa, we caught an Indian! We caught him by the toe, Papa! But hehollered,Papa,sowelethimgo!”

“Quiteright,mylads!”smiledMrMo.“He’llbehappierintheforest.”“Indians?”Michael’seyeswidened.“Amongthosedaisy-trees?”

“Hewaslookingforasquaw,Papa,totakecareofhiswigwam.”“Well, I hope he finds one,” said Mr Mo. “Oh, yes, of course there are

Indians!Andgoodnessonlyknowswhatelse.Quitelikeajungle,youmightsay.Wenevergoveryfarin,youknow.Muchtoodangerous.But–letmeintroducemysons.ThisisEenie,thisisMeenie,andthisisMynie!”

Threepairsofblueeyestwinkled,threepointednosesturneduptothesky,andthreeroundfacesgrinned.

“And these. . .” saidMrMo, turning. Then he chuckled and flung up hishands. “Well! Here we are, old friends already, and I don’t even know yournames!”

Theytoldhim,shakinghandswithhischildren.“Banks? Not the Banks of Cherry Tree Lane?Why, I’m doing a job for

you!”MrMorummagedinhistool-bag.“Whatkindofjob?”demandedMichael.“It’sanew–ah,thereyouare,MrsHickory!”MrMoturnedandwavedagreetingasadumpylittlefemininefigurecame

hurrying towards them. Two dimples twinkled in her cheeks, two rosy babiesbouncedinherarms,andshecarriedinherloop-upapronalarge,bulkyobject.

“Butshehadnochildren!”saidJanetoherself,asshestaredat thetwofatbabies.

“We’vebroughtyouapresent,MrMo!”MrsHickoryblushedandopenedherapron.“Ifoundthislovelyloafonthelawn–somebodydroppedit,Iexpect.My twins – this is Dickory, this is Dock,” she explained to the astonishedchildren–“arefartooyoungtoeatfreshbread.Sohereitisforthebreakfast!”

“That’s not a loaf, it’s a sponge-cake crumb. I dropped it myself,” saidMichael.But he could not help feeling that the crumbwas a good deal largerthanherememberedit.

“Tee-hee!”MrsHickorygiggledshylyandherdimpleswentinandout.Youcouldsee

shethoughthewasjokingandthatshelikedbeingjokedwith.“A neighbourly thought!” saidMrMo. “Let’s cut it in two and have half

each.Halfaloaf’sbetterthannobread!And,inreturn,MrsHickory,mayIgiveyouaspeckofbutter?”

“Indeed you may NOT!” said a furious voice. And the door ofMrMo’shouseburstopen.

Jane andMichael fell back a pace. For there stood the largest and ugliestwomantheyhadeverseenintheirlives.Sheseemedtobemadeofaseriesof

knobs, rather like a potato.A knob of a nose, a knob of hair, knobbly hands,knobblyfeet,andhermouthhadonlytwoteeth.

She was more like a lump of clay than a human being and Jane wasreminded of the scrap of Plasticine that had lain behind the summer-house.Adingypinaforecoveredherbodyandinoneofherlarge,knobblyhandssheheldarolling-pin.

“MayIaskwhatyouthinkyou’redoing,Samuel?Givingawaymybutter?”Shesteppedforwardangrilyandflourishedtherolling-pin.“I-Ithoughtwecouldspareit,my–er–dear!”MrMoquailedbeneathher

gaze.“Notunlessshepaysforit!Spare,spareandyourbackwillgobare!”“Oh, no, my dear, you’ve got it wrong! Spare, spare and you’ll know no

care.Poorpeoplemustshareandsharealike–that’swhatmakesthemhappy!”“Nobody’s going to share anything that belongs toMatildaMo! Or spare

either,ifitcomestothat.Lastweekyousparedafootstoolforyourcousin,MrsCorry!Andwhathaveyougottoshowforit?”

“Aluckythreepenny-piecefromhercoat!”“Tush!AndyoumendedatablefortheTurvy’s—”“Well, Topsy gave me a charming smile!” Mr Mo beamed at the sweet

recollection.“Smileswon’tfillasackwithgold!AndtheweekbeforethatitwasAlbert

Wiggwhowantedhisceilingraised.”“Well,heneededmore room tobounceabout in.And itgavemesomuch

pleasure,Matilda!”“Pleasure?Where’stheprofitinthat?Infutureyoucangetyourpleasureby

givingthingstome.Andyoutoo!”addedMrsMo,shakingherfistattheboys.“Alas, alas!”mutteredMrMo. “No rosewithout a thorn! No joywithout

annoy!”“Eenie!”MrsMoshouted.“Getmeawedding-wreath this instant!Lookat

me–ablushingbride–andnothingonmyhead.”“Oh,no!”breathedJane.“You’llspoilmygarden!”ButEenie,witha lookofalarm,hadalreadydarted to the flower-bedsand

pluckedacrownofflowers.“Notgoodenough,butbetter thannothing!”MrsMogruntedungraciously

assheplantedthegarlandonherknobblyhead.“Coo,coo!”laughedthedovesonthebuttercupbranch.

“Theydon’tsuityou.Oo-hoo!Oo-hoo!”

“Meenie!” criedMrsMo in a rage. “Upwith you quickly and catch thosebirds!I’llmakethemintoapigeonpie!”

Butthedovesmerelyruffledtheirwingsandflewaway,giggling.“Twobirdsinthebushareworthoneinthehand,”saidMrMo,gazingafter

them.“Imean,”headdednervously,“theysingmoresweetlywhenthey’refree!Don’tyouagree,Matilda?”

“I never agree,” snappedMrsMo. “And I’ll haveno singinghere.Mynie!Tellthatmantobequiet!”

Foralustyvoicewasfillingtheairwiththewordsofawell-knownsong.

“I’llsingyouone-o,Greengrowtherushes-o!”

ItwastheIceCreamMan,cyclingalongthepath.JaneandMichaelhadnotimetowonderhowhehadmanagedtogetintothe

littlePark,forEenie,MeenieandMyniewereshouting.“Papa!Papa!Apenny,please!”“Noices!”bellowedMrsMo.“Wehaven’tthemoneytospare!”“Matilda!”MrMoentreated.“There’smyluckythreepenny-piece.”“Thatisforarainyday.Notformereenjoyment.”“Oh,it’snotgoingtorain,I’msure,Matilda!”“Ofcourseitwillrain.And,anyway,it’smythreepenny-piece.Fromtoday,

Samuel, what’s yours is mine. Get along,” she yelled to the Ice CreamMan,“anddon’tcomeheremakingfoolishnoises.”

“It’snotanoise,it’sasong,”heretorted.“AndI’llsingitasmuchasIlike.”Andawayhewheeled,singing

“I’llsingyoutwo-o”

asloudlyashecould.“Outof sight,” sighedMrMo,as thebarrowdisappearedamong the trees,

“but not, alas, out ofmind!Well,wemustn’t grumble, boys!”He brightened.“Westillhavethewedding-feast.Now,MrsHickory,wherewillyousit?”

MrsHickory’sdimplestwinkledgaily.“Shewon’tsitanywhere,Samuel.Shehasnotreceivedaninvitation.”

Thedimplesdisappearedagain.“Oh,butMatilda!”criedMrMo,withacrestfallenlookonhisrosyface.“Butmenobuts!”MrsMo retorted, advancing towards the table. “What’s

this?” she demanded. “Something’s missing! A peach and an orange havedisappeared.Andwhohasbeeneatingmyapple-pie?”

“Ih-h-have,”saidMichaelnervously.“B-butonlyaverysmallslice.”“AndItookapeach,”Janesaidinawhisper.Shefoundithardtomakethe

confession,MrsMolookedsolargeandfierce.“Oh,indeed?”Theknobblywomanturnedtothechildren.“Andwhoinvited

you?”“Well,yousee,”beganJane,“IwasmakingaPark.Andsuddenly I found

myself – I mean, it happened – I mean – I – well. . .” However could sheexplain?

“Don’t hum and haw, Jane, if you please. Speak when you’re spoken to.Comewhenyou’recalled.And,Michael,donotgape like that.Thewindmaychangeandwherewillyoube?”

AvoicethatwaswelcomeasNutsinMaysoundedintheirears.“Mary Poppins!” cried Michael in glad surprise, staring – in spite of the

changingwind–fromhertoMrMo.Forthere,beneaththebuttercup,wasthecrowdedperambulator.Andbeside

it stooda tidy shapewithbuttoned-shoes, tulip-trimmedhat andparrot-headedumbrella.

“Oh,Mary!Atlast!Betterlatethannever!Howareyou?”criedMrMo.Hedartedroundtheendofthetableandkissedherblack-glovedhand.

“I knew he remindedme of someone!” saidMichael in a carefulwhisper.“Look,Jane!Theirnosesarejustthesame!”

“Nicely,thankyou,CousinSam!Mygoodness,howtheboyshavegrown!”WithaladylikeairsheofferedhercheektoEenie,MeenieandMynie.

MrMolookedonwithafondsmile.Butitfadedasheturnedtohiswife.“Andthis,”hesaidsadly,“isMatilda!”MaryPoppins regardedMrsMowith a longand searching look.Then she

smiled,tothechildren’sgreatsurprise,andmadeadaintybow.“Ihope,”shesaid,inawell-bredvoice,“thatwearenotintruding?Iwanted

Sam–withyourpermission,ofcourse,Matilda–”shebowedagaintoMrsMo–“tomakemeanew—”

“It’s ready,Mary!”criedMrMo,ashe seizedhispieceofpolishedwood.“Allitwantsis–”heflewtotheperambulator.–“Anailhereandanailthere

andanotheroneandit’sfinished!”The brand-newhandle gleamed in its place and John andBarbara clapped

theirhands.“Don’t think you’re going to get it free!” Mrs Mo shook the rolling-pin.

“Fromnowon,everything’sgottobepaidfor.Nothingfornothing–that’smymotto!”

“Oh, I’ll certainly pay him,” said Mary Poppins, with her best societysimper.“Everyonegetswhathedeserves–that’smymotto,Matilda!”

“Well, the quicker the better, please, Miss Poppins. I’ve no intention ofwaiting!”

“Youwon’thavetowait,Ipromiseyou!”MaryPoppinsgaveatwirltoherhandbagandJaneandMichaelwatchedwith interestas sheglanced round thelittlePark.Theyhadnever seen her behave like this – such elegant tact, suchpolishedmanners.

“What a charming little place you have!” She waved the parrot-headedumbrellatowardsthesummer-house.

MrsMogaveasnortofdisgust.“Charming,youcallit?Icallitahovel.IfSamuelthinksIcanliveinthat,

he’llhavetochangehismind.He’snotgoingtoknockmedownwithafeather!”“Oh,Iwouldn’tdreamofit,Matilda!Idon’tpossesssuchathing.”“AcastleiswhatIwant,Samuel.Youoweittoyourhandsomebride!”“Handsomeisashandsomedoes!”saidMrMoinawhisper.ButMaryPoppins’smilegrewbrighter.“Handsome indeed,” she agreed admiringly. “And you’re wearing such a

lovelywreath!”“Pooh,”MrsMo remarked, with contempt. “Two or three flowers twisted

together.A crownof goldwould bemore tomy liking – and I’ll have it too,beforeI’mfinished!”

“Kindheartsaremorethancoronets,”saidMrMomeekly.“Nottome!”snappedMrsMo.“I’llhaveabeadedbandofgold!Youmark

mywords,MissMaryPoppins,I’llbeQueenoftheForestyet!”“Idonotdoubtit,”saidMaryPoppins.Andhermannerwassocorrectand

respectful thatMrsMo smiled a mollified smile and displayed her two frontteeth.

“Well,”shesaidgrudgingly,“nowthatyou’rehere,you’dbetterstayandbeuseful.Youmay pass round the food at thewedding-feast.And then you canwashupthedishes.”

ThechildrenclappedtheirhandstotheirlipsandglancedatMaryPoppins.Whatwouldshesaytothat?theywondered.

MrMogaveagaspofhorror.“But,Matilda–don’tyourealise?Don’tyouknowwhosheis?”

“That will do, Sam,” said Mary Poppins. She waved him aside with herparrotumbrella.Herblueeyeshadgrownashademoreblue,but,toJane’sandMichael’sastonishment,hersmilewasbroaderthanever.

“So pleased to be of use,Matilda. And where do you plan to build yourcastle?”

“Well, I thought –”MrsMo fell back a step and swung the rolling-pin –“we’dhave the entrancegateshere.Andhere–” she took another large stridebackwards–“themaindoorandthemarblestairs.”

“Butwecan’tdwellinmarblehalls,Matilda!They’refartoograndforus.”“Foryou,perhaps,Samuel.Nothingcanbe toogrand forme.And then–”

MrsMofellbackagain–“alargeandloftyreceptionroomwhereIshallreceivemyguests.”

“Splendid!” said Mary Poppins brightly, pushing the perambulator beforeher,asshefollowedstepbystep.

And behind her marched Mr Mo and the children, followed by Eenie,MeenieandMynie,andMrsHickoryandherbabies–allofthemgazing,asifinatrance,atthetwofiguresbeforethem.

“Theballroomhere!”shoutedMrsMo,sweepingtherolling-pinabouther.“Ballroom!”MrMogroaned.“Butwhoisgoingtouseit?”“I am,” saidMrsMo, smirking. “And you’ll please letme do the talking,

Samuel!”“Silenceisgolden,Matilda,remember!”MrMowarnedher.“Oh,praygoon!”urgedMaryPoppins,advancinganotherfoot.“Drawing-room!Dining-room!Pantry!Kitchen!”Chamber by chamber the castle grew, invisible but imposing.With every

wordMrsMofellbackwards.WitheverywordMaryPoppinssteppedforward.Andtherestofthepartyfollowed.TheywerealmostacrosstheParknow–forMrsMo’sroomswerelargeandairy–andnearingtheedgeofthewoodland.

“My bedroom will be here!” she declared, swinging her arms in a widecircle.“Andnexttoit–”therolling-pinwheeledagainthroughtheair–”Ishallhaveaspaciousnursery.”

“Thatwillbenicefortheboys,Matilda!”MrMobrightenedatthethought.MrsMogavehimascornfulglance.

“Eenie,MeenieandMynie,”shesaid,“canfendforthemselvesintheattic.TheNurserywillbe formyownchildren.And– if shebringsmea reference,saying she is honest and reliable – Mary Poppins may come and look afterthem!”

“Butshe’slookingafterus!”criedMichael.Heseizedafoldofthespriggedskirtandpulledhertohisside.

“It’skindofyou,I’msure,Matilda.ButInevergivereferences.”Mary Poppins’ eyes had a curious glint as she thrust the perambulator

forward.“Thenyou’renousetome!”declaredMrsMo,struttingbackwardsthrough

herinvisiblemansion.“Oh,indeed?”MaryPoppins’balmytoneshadnowanicyedge.“Yes,indeed!”retortedMrsMo.“Iwon’thavepeopleinmycastlewhoare

likelytostealthesilver!Anddon’tlookatmelikethat!”sheadded.Therewasnowanoteofalarminhervoice,asthoughtherewassomethingfrighteninginthesmilingfacethatpursuedher.

“Like what?” said Mary Poppins softly. And she gave the perambulatoranotherpush.

MrsMoretreatedagainandraisedherrolling-pin.“Awaywithyou!Beoff!”shecried.“You’reanuninvitedguest!”Herface

wasthecolourofherapronandherlargebodytrembled.“Oh, no, I’mnot!” saidMaryPoppins,moving forward, like an oncoming

storm.“Youtoldmetostayandwashthedishes!”“Well–Itakeitback!”quaveredMrsMo.“Youpayuswhatyouoweand

begone.Iwon’thaveyouinmyPark!”Therolling-pinshiveredinherhandasshestumbledbackintotheforestshade.

“Your Park, did you say?”murmuredMary Poppins, advancing with everquickersteps.

“Yes,mine!Oh,Samuel,dosomething–can’tyou?Iwon’thavehersmilingatmelikethat!Ow!Letmego!Oh,whathascaughtme!I’mstuck,Ican’tgetfree!Whatisit?”

Asshespoke,anarmwentroundherwaistandstronghandsgrippedherbythewrist.

Behind her stood a stalwart figure smiling triumphantly. A head-dress offeatherswasonhisbrow,abowandsomearrowshungfromoneshoulderandtheotherwasdrapedwithastripedblanket.

“Atlast!AtlastIfindmysquaw!”Hegraspedhiswrigglingcaptivecloser.

“Letme go, you savage!” shriekedMrsMo, as she turned and beheld hisface.

“Letgo?NotI!WhatIfindIkeep.Youshallcomewithmetomywigwam.”“Iwon’t!Unhandme!Samuel!Tellhimtosetmefree!”“Oh,Iwouldn’tdare–he’sfartoostrong.Andthebestoffriendsmustpart,

Matilda!”“Free?Nay,nay,youshallbemyslave.There!”saidtheIndiancheerfully,

ashestrungsomeyellowbeadsroundherheadandstuckafeatherintheknobofherhair.“ThisIgiveasagreathonour.Nowyou’reanIndiantoo!”

“I’mnot!Iwon’t!Oh,help!Oh,Sam!”“Well,youwantedacrownofbeadedgoldandyouseemtohavegotit,my

dear!”“Washinthestream,cookovertwigs!”TheIndianwrinkledhisnoseather.

“Allthewidegreenwoodforyourhouseandskyaboveforyourroof!”“That’slargerthanthelargestcastle.”MrMogaveherabeamingglance.“Nay, strugglenot,” said the Indian, asMrsMo tried towriggle away. “A

goodsquawobeyshermaster.Andaqueenmustdothesame!”“Queen?”criedMrsMo,wildlykicking.The Indian tossedhisheadproudly. “Didyounotknow IwasKingof the

Forest?”“Matilda,howsplendid!Justwhatyouwanted!”“Ididn’t,Ididn’t!Notinthisway!”“There are more ways than one of being a queen,” said Mary Poppins

primly.MrsMoturnedonherinafury.ShedrummedwithherfeetontheIndian’s

shinsandbrandishedtherolling-pin.“This isyour doing– youwolf in sheep’s clothing!Thingswere going so

nicelyuntilyoucame.Oh,Samuel,whydidyouletherin?”MrsMoburstintoangrytears.

“Nicelyforyou!”saidMaryPoppins.“Butnotforanyoneelse!”“Awolf?Alamb,youmean,Matilda!Ididn’tletherin–shecame.AsifI

couldkeepthatwolffromthedoor!”MrMolaughedathislittlejoke.“Oh,helpme,Samuel!Setme freeand I’ll lendyou the threepenny-piece.

And the boys can have a slice of pie every secondFriday!”MrsMo,with animploringgesture,flungoutherknobblyarms.

“What?”shecried,glaringateachinturn.“Doesnobodywantmeback?”Therewas silence in the littlegroup.MrMoglancedathis three sonsand

thenatMaryPoppins.Onebyoneallshooktheirheads.

“Coo-roo!Coo-roo!Theydon’twantyou!”

cooedthedovesastheyflutteredpast.“Oh,whatshallIdo?”wailedMrsMo.“Iwantyou,Mahtildah!”theIndiancried.“Ineedyou,Mahtildah,toboilthe

pot! Sweep thewigwam!Sew themoccasins!Make the arrows!Fill the pipe!And–andeverysecondMonday,Mahtildah,

“YoushallsitontheblanketbeneathamoonbeamAndfeedonwildstrawberries,snakesandnutcream!”

“Snakes?Moonbeams?Letmego!Ieatnothingbutmuttonchops.Oh,help!Murder!Ambulance!Fire!”

Her voice rose to an anguished scream as the Indian flung her over hisshoulder and stepped back into the woodland. Clasping his struggling burdentightly,heglancedatthethreelittleboys.

“They letme gowhen I hollered,” he said. “So – one good turn deservesanother!”

And, smiling broadly at MrMo, he bore the protesting Mrs Mo into thedepthsoftheforest.

“Police!Police!”theyheardhershriek,assheandtheIndianandtherolling-pindisappearedfromview.

MrMogaveasighofrelief.“Well,itcertainlyisanillwindthatblowsnobodyanygood!IhopeMatilda

will settledownandenjoybeingaqueen.Mary,you’vepaidmewell for thathandle.Ishallalwaysbeinyourdebt.”

“Shesaidshewoulddoitinherowngoodtime–andshehas,”saidMichaelproudly.

“Ah!”saidMrMo,shakinghishead.“Shedoeseverythinginherowntime–it’saveryspecialkind.”

“Youowemenothing,CousinSam!”MaryPoppins turnedaway from theforest with a conquering shine in her eye. “Except, of course,” she addedseverely,“nottobesofoolishinfuture.”

“Outofthefrying-panintothefire?Oh,I’llnevermarryagain,Mary!Once

bitten,twiceshy.Theboysmustmanagesomehow.”“Perhaps,MrMo,”MrsHickorydimpled,“youwouldletmewashandmend

forthem.Itwouldbenotroubleatall.”“Whatabeautifulthought!”criedMrMo.“All’swellthatendswell,Mary,

yousee!AndIinreturn,MrsHickory,willbuildyouanicelittlehouse.Oh,I’velostsixpenceandfoundashilling!Look!”hesaid,pointingtothesunset.“Redskyatnightistheshepherd’sdelight!Mydears,weareallgoingtobesohappy.IshallstartonmyFunFairatonce!”

Andawayhedashedacrossthelawn,withtherestofthepartyathisheels.“Butwhataboutthewedding-breakfast?”Michaelpantedafterhim.“Mygoodness,I’dforgotten.Here–fruit,cake,sausages,buns!”Hetooka

piecefromeverydishandthrustitintoMichael’shands.MaryPoppinslookedondisapprovingly.“Now,Michael,notanotherbite!Youwillhavenoroomforyoursupper.”“Enough’s as good as a feast, my lad!”MrMo grinned atMichael as he

watchedthefooddisappearing.“Enoughistoomuch!”saidMaryPoppins.“Comealong,bothofyou!”“Oh, I cannotbear to leave it!” cried Jane.Her littlePark seemedbrighter

thanever,asitshoneinthesettingsun.“Youneverwill!”MrModeclared.“As longasyou remember it,youcan

alwayscomeandgo.AndIhopeyou’renotgoingtotellmethatyoucan’tbeintwoplacesatonce.Aclevergirlwhomakesparksandpeoplesurelyknowshowtodothat!”Hesmiledhistwinkling,teasingsmile.

MaryPoppinssteppedoutfromunderthebuttercup,withahomewardlookinhereye.

“Say goodbye politely, Jane!” She sent the perambulator rolling along thepebbledpath.

“Goodbye,MrMo!”saidJanesoftly,asshestoodontiptoeandheldoutherarms.

“Oh,luck!Oh,joy!”Hepattedhischeek.“ThisisnoParkforPoorPeople!I’mrich–she’sgivenmeakiss!Shareandsharealike!”hecried,ashekissedMrsHickoryrightonadimple.

“Remember,Sam!”warnedMaryPoppins.“Lookbeforeyouleap!”“Oh,Ishan’tdoanyleaping,Mary!Alittledanceandahoportwo–nothing

moreserious,Iassureyou!”Shegaveadisbelieving sniff,butMrModidnothear it.Hewas skipping

besideMrsHickoryandseizingherapron-strings.

“MayIhavethepleasure?”theyheardhimsaying.“Metoo!”criedEenie,MeenieandMynie,astheyflewtojointheirfather.Andtheretheyallwere,prancingroundthetable,helpingthemselvestopie

and wine and hanging the cherries behind their ears. Mrs Hickory’s dimplesweretwinklinggailyandherbabieswerebobbingaboutinherarms.

“It’sapoorheartthatneverrejoices!”criedMrMo,ashewhirledherabout.Heseemedtohavequiteforgottenhisguestsinthegaietyofthemoment.

“It’slovethatmakestheworldgoround!”yelledEenie,MeenieandMynie.And,indeed,theworlddidseemtobespinning,turningforjoyuponitsaxis,

as the little Park spun round its buttercup tree.Round and round and round itwentinasteady,statelymovement.

Thewedding-partywaswaltzingand singing, and the IceCreamManwassingingtoo,ashepedalledbackalongthepath.AclusterofFruitBarswasinhishandandhetossedthemontothetable.

“Threeforluckandfreeforluck!”hecried,ashetrundledby.“Stepup,ifyouplease,”saidMaryPoppins,hustlingthemalongbeforeher

asahenhustlesherchicks.“Andwhatareyoudoing,JaneandMichael,walkingbackwardslikethat?”

“I’bwadchingtheweddig-feast!”mumbledMichael,withhismouthfullofhis last cherry. He gave a long, lugubrious sigh as each creak of theperambulatordrewhimfartherfromthatwonderfulmeal.

“TakingonemorelookatmyPark,MaryPoppins,”saidJane,asshegazedatthehappyscene.

“Well, you’re not a pair of crabs! Turn round – and walk in the rightdirection.”

Thesunsetdazzledtheireyesastheyturned.Andtheafternoonseemedtobeturningwiththem,fromtwoo’clocktillfive.Tick-tock!saideveryclock.Ding-dong!saidthebellsinthesteeples.

Then the spinning world slowed down and was still, and they blinked asthoughcomingoutofadream.Hadittakenthemseconds,minutesorhourstowalkdownthatpebblypath?Theylookedaboutthemcuriously.

Theblossomsofcloverwerenowattheirfeet,insteadofabovetheirheads,andthegrassesoftheWildCornerbrushedagainsttheirknees.Thebumble-beewent buzzing by, no larger, it seemed, than usual. And the fly on a nearbybluebellwasaboutthesizeofafly.Asfortheant–itwashidingunderagrass-seedandwasthereforeinvisible.

The big Park spread serenely round them, just the same as ever. The Ice

CreamMan,whohadcometothelastverseofhissong–

“I’llsingyoutwelve-oGreengrowtherushes-o,”

was wheeling away from the Wild Corner. And the Park Keeper, with thefinisheddaisy-chainroundhisneck,waslumberingtowardsthem.

Theyglanceddown.BelowthemlaythelittlePark,hemmedinbyitswallsofweed.Theyblinkedagainandsmiledateachotherastheyfellontheirkneesamongtheflowers.

Thelittlelawnswerenowinshadow.Longpatternsofdaisyandbluebelllayblackacrosstheirpaths.ThetinyflowersinJane’sgardenwerebendingontheirstems.Bylakeandswingtheseatsweredeserted.

“They’ve eaten every bit of the feast. Look!”whisperedMichael. “Emptyplates!”

“And not a sign of anyone. I expect they’ve all gone home to bed.” Janesighed.ShewouldliketohaveseenMrMoagain,andtomeasureherselfagainsthiselbow.

“They’re lucky, then,’ooever theyare!Let’s tobed,saysSleepy-’Ead–asthey told me when I was a boy!” The Park Keeper stooped above them andsurveyedJane’shandiwork.

“No Parks allowed in the Park!” he observed. Then he eyed the two raptfaces.“Well,youseemverypreh’occupied!Whatareyoulookin’for?”

Janegavehimanabsent-mindedglance.“Mary Poppins’ cousin,” shemurmured, as she searched through the little

Park.TheParkKeeper’sfacewasasighttosee.“Cousin!Down there–among theweeds?You’llbe tellin’menext ’e’s a

beetle!”“I’llbetellingyousomethinginaminute!”saidawrathfulvoicebesidehim.

MaryPoppinsregardedhimfrostily.“DidIordidn’tIhearyoureferringtomeasaninsect?”

“Well–nottoyou,”theParkKeeperfaltered.“Butifyourcousin’sdowninthatgrass,whatcan’ebebutabeetle?”

“Oh,indeed!Andifhe’sabeetle,whatamI?”Helookedatheruneasilyandwishedthatsomethingwouldstrikehimdumb.“Hum,”hesaid,fumblingforaword.“ImaybeasmadasaMarchHatter

—”“Maybe!”shegaveadisdainfulsniff.“ButIdon’tsee’owyoucan’aveacousinsittin’underabuttercup!”“Icanhaveacousinanywhere–andnobusinessofyours!”“You can’t!” he cried. “T’isn’t natural. I suppose,” he added sarcastically,

“you’rerelatedtotheManintheMoon!”“Myuncle!”saidMaryPoppinscalmly,assheturnedtheperambulatorinto

thepaththatledfromtheWildCorner.TheParkKeeperopenedhismouthinsurpriseandshutitagainwithasnap.“Ha,ha!Youwill’aveyourlittlejoke.’Owsumever,Idon’tbelieveit!”“Nobody asked you to,” she replied. “Come, Jane!Come,Michael!Quick

march,please!”NighthadnowcometothelittlePark.Thewildweed,thicklyclusteredabout

it, lookedvery likea forest.No light came through the trackless stems, itwasdark as any jungle.With a last glance at the lonely lawns, they turned awayregretfullyandranaftertheperambulator.

“Mary Poppins! They’ve all gone home,” criedMichael. “There’s nothingleftontheplates.”

“East,West,home’sbest.Andwhoare‘they’,I’dliketoknow?”“Imeantyourfunnylittlecousin–andallhisfamily!”Shepulled up sharply and looked at himwith a calm thatwasworse than

anger.“Didyousay ‘funny’?” sheenquired. “Andwhatwas so funnyabouthim,

pray?”“Well–atfirsthewasn’tasbigasabeetleandthenhestretchedouttothe

usuals-s-size!”Hetrembledashelookedather.“Beetles again! Why not grasshoppers? Or perhaps you’d prefer a grub!

Stretching,indeed!Areyoutryingtotellme,MichaelBanks,thatmycousinismadeofelastic?”

“Well–no,notelastic.Plasticine!”There!Itwasout.Hehadsaiditatlast.Shedrewherself up.Andnow it seemedas if shewere stretching, forher

rageseemedtomakehertwiceastall.“Well!” she began, in a voice that told him clearly she had never been so

shocked in her life. “If anyone had ever warned me—” But he interruptedwildly.

“Oh,don’tbeangry,please,MaryPoppins–not inyour tuliphat! Ididn’tmeanhewas funny to laugh at, but funny in thenicestway.And Iwon’t say

anotherword–Ipromise!”“Humph!”Shesubsided.“Silenceisgolden.”Andasshestalkedalongbesidehim,withherheelsgoingclick-clackonthe

path,hewonderedwherehehadheardthatbefore.HeglancedatJanecarefullyfromthecornerofhiseye.“But it happened,didn’t it?”hewhispered. “Wedidgo into the littlePark

and join themat the feast? I’msure itwas true,because I’mnothungry.All Iwant for supper is a hard-boiled egg and a piece of buttered toast. And ricepuddingandtwotomatoesandperhapsacupofmilk!”

“Oh, yes, it was true.” Jane sighed for joy as she gazed round the greatfamiliarPark.Withinit,sheknew,layanotherone.Andperhaps...

“Do you think, Mary Poppins. . .” She hesitated. “Do you think thateverythingintheworldisinsidesomethingelse?MylittleParkinsideabigoneand thebigone inside a larger one?Again and again?Away and away?”Shewavedherarmtotakeinthesky.“Andtosomeoneveryfaroutthere–doyouthinkwewouldlooklikeants?”

“Antsandbeetles!Grasshoppers!Grubs!Whatnext,I’dliketoknow!Ican’tanswerforyou,Jane,butI’mnotananttoanyone,thankyou!”

MaryPoppinsgaveadisgustedsniff.“Ofcourseyou’renot!”saidacheerfulvoice,asMrBanks–comingback

fromtheCity–caughtupwiththelittlegroup.“You’remorelikeaglow-worm,MaryPoppins,shiningtoshowustheright

way home!” He waited for the self-satisfied smile to spread across her face.“Here,” he said, “take the eveningpaper and I’llwheel theperambulator.Theexercisewilldomegood.IthinkI’mgettingacold.”

The Twins and Annabel crowed with delight as Mr Banks sent themskimmingalong.

“Dearme,”heremarked.“Whatafinenewhandle!Thatcousinofyoursisagoodworkman.Youmustletmeknowwhatyoupaidforit.”

“Iknow!”criedMichaeleagerly.“ShegaveMrsMototheIndian!”“Atishoo!Ididn’tquitehearwhatyousaid,Michael.ShegaveMrRowetwo

shillings?”MrBanksblewhisnosewithaflourish.“No,no!ShegaveMrsMo!Imean—”Heneverfinishedthesentence.For

MaryPoppins’eyewasonhimandhethoughtitbesttodropthesubject.“Therewillbenocharge,sir!”shesaidpolitely.“Mycousinwaspleasedto

doit.”“That’suncommonlykindofhim,MaryPoppins.Hey!”hebrokeoff.“Do

look where you’re going! Observe the Rules of the Park, Smith! You nearlyupsettheperambulator.”

FortheParkKeeper,boundingafterthem,hadknockedintothelittlegroupandscattereditinalldirections.

“Begpardonall, I’msure!”hepanted. “Sorry,MrBanks, sir, but ifyou’llexcuseme,it’s’erI’mafter.”

He flung out a hand at Mary Poppins. The daisy-chain dangled from hiswrist.

“Why,MaryPoppins,whathaveyoudone?BrokenaBye-laworwhat?”TheParkKeepergavealonelygroan.“Bye-law?She’sbrokenallthelaws!Oh,itisn’tnatural–butit’strue!”He

turnedtoMaryPoppins.“You said you could ’ave one anywhere! Well, ’e’s down here under a

dandelion. I ’eard ’im with me own ears – laughin’ and singin’ – just like aparty.’Ere,takeit!”hecriedinabrokenvoice,asheflungthedaisy-chainoverherhead.“Imeantitformepooroldmother–butIfeelIoweyousomethin’.”

“Youdo,”saidMaryPoppinscalmly,asshestraightenedthedaisy-chain.TheParkKeeper stared at her for amoment.Then he turned awaywith a

sigh.“I shallneverh’understand,”hemuttered,knockingoveraLitter-basketas

hetotteredoffdownthepath.MrBanksgazedafterhimwithalookofshockedsurprise.“Somebodyunderadandelion?Havingaparty?Whatcanhemean?Really,

IsometimeswonderifSmithisrightinthehead.Underadandelion–laughingandsinging!Didyoueverhearsuchathing?”

“Never!”saidMaryPoppinsdemurely,withadaintyshakeofherhead.Andassheshookitabuttercuppetalfellfromthebrimofherhat.Thechildrenwatcheditflutteringdownandturnedandsmiledateachother.“There’soneonyourheadtoo,Michael!”“Is there?” he said, with a happy sigh. “Bend down and let me look at

yours.”And,sureenough,Janehadapetaltoo.“Itoldyouso!”Shenoddedwisely.Andsheheldherheadveryhighandstill

soasnottodisturbit.Crowned with the gold of the buttercup tree, she walked home under the

mapleboughs.Allwasquiet.Thesunhadset.TheshadowsoftheLong“Walkwerefallingallabouther.AndatthesametimethebrightnessofthelittlePark

foldedhercloselyround.Thedarkofone,thelightoftheother–shefeltthembothtogether.

“Iamintwoplacesatonce,”shewhispered,“justashesaidIwouldbe!”Andshethoughtagainofthelittleclearingamongthethrongingweeds.The

daisies would grow again, she knew. Clover would hide the little lawns.Cardboardtableandswingswouldcrumble.Theforestwouldcoveritall.

Butsomehow,somewhere,inspiteofthat,sheknewshewouldfinditagain–asneatandgayandashappyasithadbeentoday.Shehadonlytorememberitand thereshewouldbeoncemore.Timeupon timeshewould return–hadn’tMrMosaidso?–andstandattheedgeofthatpatchofbrightnessandneverseeitfade...

ChapterSix

HALLOWE’EN

“MARYPOPPINS!”calledMichael.“Waitforus!”“W-a-a-a-i-t!”thewindechoed,whiningroundhim.Itwasadusky,gustyautumnevening.Thecloudsblewinandoutofthesky.

And inall thehousesofCherryTreeLane thecurtainsblew inandoutof thewindows.Swish-swish.Flap-flap.

TheParkwastossinglikeashipinastorm.LeavesandLitter-paperturnedhead-over-heelsintheair.Thetreesgroanedandwavedtheirarms,thesprayofthefountainwasblownandscattered.Benchesshivered.Swingswerecreaking.TheLakewaterleaptintofoamywaves.NothingwasstillinthewholeParkasitbowedandshudderedunderthewind.

And through it all stalkedMaryPoppins,withnot ahairoutofplace.Herneat blue coat with its silver buttonswas neither creased nor ruffled, and thetulipsatonherhatsofirmlythatitmighthavebeenmadeofmarble.

Farbehindherthechildrenran,splashingthroughdriftsofleaves.TheyhadbeentoMrFolly’sstallfornutsandtoffee-apples.Andnowtheyweretryingtocatchherup.

“Waitforus,MaryPoppins!”In front of her, on the Long Walk, the perambulator trundled. The wind

whistledthroughthewheels,andtheTwinsandAnnabelclungtogetherforfearofbeingblownoverboard.Theirtasselledcapsweretossingwildlyandtherugwasflappingloose,likeaflag.

“O-o-o-h!”theysqueaked,likeexcitedmice,asasuddengusttoreitfreeandcarrieditaway.

Someone was coming down the path, bowling along like a tatterednewspaper.

“Help!”shrilledahigh,familiarvoice.“Somethinghasblownrightovermyhat!Ican’tseewhereI’mgoing.”

ItwasMissLark,outforhereveningwalk.HertwodogsboundedonaheadandbehindhertheProfessorstraggled,withhishairstandingonend.

“Isthatyou,MaryPoppins?”shecried,asshepluckedtherugawayfromherface and flung it upon the perambulator. “What a dreadful night! Such awildwind!Iwonderyou’renotblownaway!”

Mary Poppins raised her eyebrows and gave a superior sniff. If the windblewanyoneaway,itwouldnotbeherself,shethought.

“What do youmean – a dreadful night?”AdmiralBoom strode up behindthem.Hisdachshund,Pompey,wasathisheels,wearingalittlesailor’sjackettokeephimfromcatchingcold.

“It’saperfectnight,mydearlady,foralifeontheoceanwave!

‘Sixteenmenonadeadman’schest–Yo,ho,ho!Andabottleofrum.’

YoumustsailtheSevenSeas,Lucinda!”“Oh–Icouldn’tsitonadeadman’schest!”MissLarkseemedquiteupsetat

the thought. “Nor drink rum, either, Admiral. Do keep up, Professor, please.There–myscarfhasblownaway!Oh,goodness,nowthedogshavegone!”

“Perhaps they’ve blown away too!” The Professor glanced up into a tree,lookingforAndrewandWilloughby.Thenhepeeredshort-sightedlydowntheWalk.

“Ah,heretheycome!”hemurmuredvaguely.“Howstrangetheylookwithonlytwolegs!”

“Two legs!” said Miss Lark reproachfully. How absent-minded you are,Professor. Those aren’t my darling precious dogs – they’re only Jane andMichael.”

TheAdmiralwhippedouthistelescopeandclappedittohiseye.“Ahoy,there,shipmates!”heroaredtothechildren.“Look!” shoutedMichael, runningup. “I put outmyhand to holdmy cap

andthewindblewaleafrightintoit!”“Andoneintominethesameminute!”Janepantedbehindhim.They stood there, laughing and glowing, with their packages held against

theirchestsandthestar-shapedmapleleavesintheirhands.“Thank you,” said Mary Poppins firmly, as she plucked the leaves from

betweentheirfingers,gavethemascrutinisingglanceandpoppedthemintoherpocket.

“Catchaleaf,amessagebrief!”MissLark’svoiceshriekedabovethewind.“But,ofcourse, it’sonlyanoldwives’ tale.Ah, thereyouare,deardogs–at

last!Takemyhand,Professor,please.Wemusthurryhometosafety.”And she shooed them all along before her, with her skirts blowing out in

everydirection.Michaelhoppedexcitedly.“Wasitamessage,MaryPoppins?”“That’sasmaybe,”saidMaryPoppins,turninguphernosetothesky.“Butwecaughtthem!”Janeprotested.“C.caughtit.G.gotit,”sheanswered,withannoyingcalm.“Will you show us when we get home?” screamed Michael, his voice

floatingaway.“Homeisthesailor,homefromthesea!”TheAdmiraltookoffhishatwitha

flourish. “Au revoir, messmates and Miss Poppins! Up with the anchor,Pompey!”

“Ay,ay,sir!”Pompeyseemedtobesaying,ashegallopedafterhismaster.Michaelrummagedinhispackage.“MaryPoppins,whydidn’tyouwait?Iwantedtogiveyouatoffee-apple.”“TimeandTidewaitfornoman,”sheansweredpriggishly.HewasjustabouttoaskwhatTimeandTidehadtodowithtoffee-apples,

whenhecaughtherdisapprovinglook.“Apairofragdolls–that’swhatyouare!Justlookatyourhair!Sweetsto

the sweet,” she added conceitedly, as she took the sticky fruit he offered andnibbleditdaintily.

“It’s not our fault, it’s the wind!” saidMichael, tossing the hair from hisbrow.

“Well,thequickeryou’reintoitthequickeryou’reoutofit!”Shethrusttheperambulatorforwardunderthegroaningtrees.

“Lookout!Becareful!Whatareyoudoin’?”A howl of protest rent the air as a figure, clutching his tie and his cap,

lurchedsidewaysinthedusk.“RemembertheBye-laws!Lookwhereyou’regoin’!Youcan’tknockover

theParkKeeper.”MaryPoppinsgavehimahaughtystare.“Icanifhe’sinmyway,”sheretorted.“You’dnorighttobethere.”“I’vearighttobeanywhereinthePark.It’sintheRegulations.”Hepeered

atherthroughthegatheringdarkandstaggeredbackwithacry.“Toffee-apples?Andbagso’nuts?Thenitmustbe’Allowe’en!Imight’ave

known it.”His voice shook. “Youdon’t get awind like this for nothin’.O-o-ow!”He shuddered. “It givesme the ’Orrors. I’ll leave the Park to look after

itself.Thisisnonighttobeout.”“Whynot?”Janehandedhimanut.“WhathappensatHallowe’en?”TheParkKeeper’seyesgrewasroundasplates.Heglancednervouslyover

hisshoulderandleanttowardsthechildren.“Things,” he said in a hoarsewhisper, “come out andwalk in the night. I

don’tknowwhattheyarequite–ghosts,perhaps,orh’apparitions.Anyway,it’sspooky.Hey–what’sthat?”Heclutchedhisstick.“Look!There’soneofthemupthere–awhitethinginthetrees!”

Alightwasgleamingamongthebranches,turningtheirblacktosilver.Thewindhadblownthecloudsawayandagreatbrightgloberodethroughthesky.

“It’sonlythemoon!”JaneandMichaellaughed.“Don’tyourecogniseit?”“Ah!”TheParkKeepershookhishead.“Itlookslikethemoonanditfeels

likethemoon.Anditmaybethemoon–butitmaynot.Younevercantellon’Allowe’en!”

Andheturneduphiscoat-collarandhurriedaway,notdaringtolookbehindhim.

“Ofcourseit’s themoon,”saidMichaelstoutly.“There’smoonlightonthegrass!”

Janegazedattheblowing,shiningscene.“Thebushesaredancinginthewind.Look!There’sonecomingtowardsus

–asmallbushandtwolargerones.Oh,MaryPoppins,perhapsthey’reghosts?”Sheclutchedafoldofthebluecoat.“They’recomingnearer,MaryPoppins!I’msurethey’reapparitions!”

“I don’t want to see them!”Michael screamed. He seized the end of theparrotumbrellaasthoughitwereananchor.

“Apparitions,indeed!”shriekedthesmallestbush.“Well,I’veheardmyselfcalledmanythings–CharlemagnesaidIlookedlikeafairyandBoadiceacalledmeagoblin–butnobodyeversaidtomyfacethatIwasanapparition.ThoughIdaresay–”thebushgaveawitch-likecackle–“thatIoftenlooklikeone!”

Askinnylittlepairoflegscamecaperingtowardsthemandawizenedface,likeanoldapple,peeredoutthroughwispsofhair.

Michaeldrewalongbreath.“It’sonlyMrsCorry!”hesaid,loosinghisholdontheparrotumbrella.“AndMissFannie andMissAnnie!” Janewaved in relief to the two large

bushes.“How de do?” said their mournful voices, as Mrs Corry’s enormous

daughterscaughtupwiththeirtinymother.

“Well, herewe are again,mydears – as I heardSt.George remark to theDragon. Just the kind of night for—”MrsCorry looked atMaryPoppins andgaveher a knowinggrin. “For all sorts of things,” she concluded. “Yougot amessage,Ihope!”

“Thankyoukindly,MrsCorry.Ihavehadacommunication.”“Whatmessage?”askedMichaelinquisitively.“Wasitoneonaleaf?”Mrs Corry cocked her head. And her coat – which was covered with

threepenny-bits–twinkledinthemoonlight.“Ah,” she murmured mysteriously. “There are so many kinds of

communication!You lookatme, I lookatyou,andsomethingpassesbetweenus.Johno’Groatscouldsendmeamessage,simplybydroppinganeyelid.Andonce – five hundred years ago –MotherGoose handedme a feather. I knewexactlywhatitmeant–‘Cometodinner.RoastDuck’!”

“Andatastydishitmusthavebeen!But,excuseme,MrsCorry,please–wemustbegettinghome.Thisisnonightfordawdling–asyouwillunderstand.”MaryPoppinsgaveherameaningfullook.

“Quiteright,MissPoppins!Earlytobed,earlytorise,makesamanhealthy,wealthyand...Now,whowasitfirsttoldmethat–RoberttheBruce?No,I’veforgotten!”

“Seeyoulater,”saidFannieandAnnie,wavingtoJaneandMichael.“Later?”saidJane.“Butwe’regoingtobed.”“Thereyougo–yougalumphinggiraffes!Can’tyoueveropenyourmouths

without putting your feet into them? Theymean,my dears,” saidMrs Corry,“they’llbeseeingyoulaterintheyear!November,perhaps,orafterChristmas.Unless, of course –” her smile widened – “unless you are very clever!Well,goodnightandsleepwell!”

She held out her little wrinkled hands and Jane andMichael both sprangforward.

“Look out! Look out!” she shrieked at them. “You’re stepping on myshadow!”

“Oh–I’msorry!”Theybothjumpedbackinalarm.“Dearygoodness–yougavemeaturn!”MrsCorryclappedherhandtoher

heart.“Twoofyoustandingrightonitshead–thepoorthingwillbedistressed!”Theylookedatherinastonishmentandthenatthelittlepatchofblackthat

layonthewindygrass.“ButIdidn’tthinkshadowscouldfeel,”saidJane.“Not feel!Whatnonsense!”criedMrsCorry. “They feel twiceasmuchas

youdo.Iwarnyou,children,takecareofyourshadowsoryourshadowswon’ttakecareofyou.Howwouldyou like towakeonemorningandfind theyhadrunaway?Andwhat’samanwithoutashadow?Practicallynothing,youmightsay!”

“Iwouldn’tlikeitatall,”saidMichael,glancingathisownshadowripplinginthewind.Herealised,forthefirsttime,howfondhewasofit.

“Exactly!”MrsCorry snorted. “Ah,my love,” she crooned toher shadow.“We’vebeenthroughalottogether–haven’twe?–youandI.Andneverahairofyourheadhurttillthesetwowentandsteppedonit.Allright,allright,don’tlooksoglum!”ShetwinkledatJaneandMichael.“ButrememberwhatIsay–take care! Fannie and Annie, stir your stumps. Look lively – if you possiblycan!”

Andoffshetrottedbetweenherdaughters,bendingsidewaysnowandagaintoblowakisstohershadow.

“Now,comealong.Noloitering,”saidMaryPoppinsbriskly.“We’re keeping an eye on our shadows!” said Jane. “We don’t want

anythingtohurtthem.”“Youandyourshadows,”saidMaryPoppins,“cangotobed–spit-spot!”And,sureenough,thatwaswhattheydid.Innexttonotimetheyhadeaten

theirsupper,undressedbeforethecracklingfireandbouncedundertheblankets.The Nursery curtains blew in and out and the nightlight flickered on the

ceiling.“I see my shadow and my shadow sees me!” Jane looked at the neatly

brushed head reflected on the wall. She nodded in a friendly way and hershadownoddedback.

“My shadow and I are two swans!” Michael held his arm in the air andsnappedhisfingerstogether.Anduponthewallalong-neckedbirdopenedandcloseditsbeak.

“Swans!”saidMaryPoppins,sniffing,asshelaidhercoatandtuliphatattheendofhercampbed.“Geesemorelikeit,Ishouldsay!”

Thecanvascreakedasshesprangin.Michael craned his neck and called: “Why don’t you hang up your coat,

MaryPoppins,thewayyoualwaysdo?”“Myfeetarecold,that’swhy!Now,notanotherword!”He looked at Jane. Jane looked at him. They knew it was only half an

answer.Whatwas sheup to tonight? theywondered.ButMaryPoppinsneverexplained.YoumightaswellasktheSphinx.

“Tick!”saidtheclockonthemantelpiece.Theywerewarmastoastinsidetheirbeds.Andtheirbedswerewarminside

theNursery.And theNurserywaswarminside thehouse.And thehowlingofthewindoutsidemadeitseemwarmerstill.

Theyleanttheircheeksupontheirpalmsandlettheireyelidsfall.“Tock!”saidtheclockonthemantelpiece.Butneitherofthemheard...

“Whatisit?”Janemurmuredsleepily.“Who’sscratchingmynose?”“It’sme!”saidMichaelinawhisper.Hewasstandingatthesideofherbed

withawrinkledleafinhishand.“I’vebeenscratchingitforages,Jane!Thefrontdoorbangedandwokeme

upandI found thisonmypillow.Look!There’soneonyours too.AndMaryPoppins’bedisemptyandhercoatandhathavegone!”

Janetooktheleavesandrantothewindow.“Michael,” shecried,“therewas amessage.One leaf says ‘Come’and the

other‘Tonight’.”“Butwherehasshegone?Ican’tseeher!”Hecranedhisneckand looked

out.Allwasquiet.Thewindhaddropped.Everyhousewasfastasleep.Andthe

fullmoonfilledtheworldwithlight.“Jane!Thereareshadowsinthegarden–andnotasingleperson!”Hepointedtotwolittledarkshapes–oneinpyjamas,oneinanightgown–

thatwerefloatingdownthefrontpathandthroughthegardenrailings.Janeglancedat theNurserywallsandceiling.Thenightlightglowedlikea

bright eye. But in spite of that steady,watchful gleam therewas not a singleshadow!

“They’reours,Michael!Put somethingon.Quick–wemust go and catchthem!”

Heseizedasweaterandfollowedher,tiptoeingdownthecreakingstairsandoutintothemoonlight.

CherryTreeLanewascalmandstill,butfromtheParkcamethestrainsofmusicandtrillsofhigh-pitchedlaughter.

The children, clutching their brown leaves, dashed through theLaneGate.And something, light as snow or feathers, fell upon Michael’s shoulder.SomethinggentlerthanairbrushedagainstJane’scheek.

“Touched you last!” two voices cried. And they turned and beheld their

shadows.“Butwhydidyourunaway?”askedJane,gazingatthetransparentfacethat

lookedsolikeherown.“We’reguestsattheParty.”Hershadowsmiled.“Whatparty?”Michaeldemanded.“It’sHallowe’en,” his shadow toldhim. “Thenightwhen every shadow is

free.Andthisisaveryspecialoccasion.Foronething,there’safullmoon–anditfallsontheBirthdayEve.Butcomealong,wemustn’tbelate!”

And away the two little shadows flitted, with the children solidly runningbehindthem.

Themusic grew louder every second, and as they darted round the laurelstheybeheldacurioussight.

Thewholeplaygroundwas throngedwith shadows, eachof them laughingand greeting the others and hopping about in themoonlight. And the strangethingwasthat,insteadoflyingflatontheground,theywereallstandingupright.Long shadows, short shadows, thin shadows, fat shadows, were bobbing,hobnobbing, bowing, kowtowing, and passing in and out of each other withhappycriesofwelcome.

Inoneoftheswingssatahelmetedshape,playingaconcertina.Itsmiledandwavedashadowyhand,andJaneandMichaelsawatoncethatitbelongedtothePoliceman.

“Got your invitations?” he cried. “No human beings allowed inwithout aspecialpass!”

JaneandMichaelhelduptheirleaves.“Good!”ThePoliceman’sshadownodded.“Blessyou!”headded,asashape

besidehimwasseizedwithafitofsneezing.CoulditbeEllen’sshadow?Yes–andblowingashadowynose!“Goodevening!”murmuredapassingshape,“ifanyevening’sgood!”ItsdrearyvoiceandlongfaceremindedJaneoftheFishmonger.Andsurely

the jovial shadowbeside it belonged to theFamilyButcher!A shadowyknifewasinhishand,astripedapronabouthiswaist,andheledalonganairyfigurewithhornsuponitshead.

“Michael!”saidJaneinaloudwhisper.“Idothinkthat’stheDancingCow!”ButMichaelwas tooabsorbed toanswer.Hewaschatting toa furryshape

thatwaslazilytrimmingitswhiskers.“My other part,” it said, miaowing, “is asleep on the mantelpiece. So, of

course–thisbeingHallowe’en–Itooktheeveningoff!”Itadjustedashadowy

wreathofflowersthatwasloopedaboutitsneck.“TheCat that looked at theKing!” exclaimed Jane. She put out a hand to

strokeitshead,butallshefeltwasair.“Well, don’t let him come near me!” cried a voice. “I’ve quite enough

troublesasitis,withouthavingcatstodealwith.”Aplump,bird-likeshapetrippedpast,noddingabstractedlyatthechildren.“PooroldCockRobin–andhistroubles!”TheshadowyCatgaveashadowy

yawn.“He’snevergotoverthatfuneralandallthefusstherewas.”“CockRobin?Buthe’saNurseryRhyme.Hedoesn’texist!”saidJane.“Doesn’t exist? Then why am I here?”The phantom bird seemed quite

annoyed. “You can have a substancewithout a shadow, but you can’t have ashadowwithoutasubstance–anyoneknowsthat!Andwhataboutthem–don’ttheyexist?”

Itwavedadarktransparentwingatagroupofairyfigures–atallboyliftinga flute to hismouth, and a bulky shape,with a crown on its head, clasping abowlandapipe.Beside themstood threephantomfiddlersholding theirbowsaloft.

ApealoflaughterburstfromMichael.“That’stheshadowofOldKingCole.It’sexactlylikethepicture!”

“And Tom, the Piper’s son too!” Cock Robin glared at Jane. “If they’reshadows,theymustbeshadowsofsomething–denyitifyoucan!”

“Balloonsandballoons,myDearieDucks!Noarguingtonight!”Acosylittlefeminineshape,withballoonsbobbingaboutherbonnet,whizzedthroughtheairabovethem.

“Havethegoodness,please,tobemorecareful.Younearlywentthroughmyhat!”

A trumpetingvoice thatwas somehowfamiliar soundedamid the laughter.The children peered through theweaving crowd.Could it be? – yes, itwas –MissAndrew!Or rather,MissAndrew’s shadow. The same beaked nose, thesamesmalleyes,thegreyveiloverthefelthatandthecoatofrabbitfur.

“Ihaven’tcomefromtheSouthSeastohavemyheadknockedoff!”Shaking its fist at the BalloonWoman, Miss Andrew’s shadow protested

loudly. “Andwho’s that pullingmy veil?” it cried, turning on two little darkshapes,whodashedawayscreamingwithterror.

JaneandMichaelnudgedeachother.“Ours!”theywhispered,giggling.“Makeway!Moveon!ThePrimeMinister’scomin’!”Ashadowinapeaked

capwavedthechildrenaside.

“Oh, it’s you, is it?Well, remember the Bye-laws!Don’t get in anyone’sway.” The phantom face – themoustache and all –was exactly like the ParkKeeper’s.

“Ithoughtyou’dhavebeentoofrightenedtocome.Yousaiditwasspooky!”Janeremindedhim.

“Oh, I’m not frightened, Miss – it’s ’im. My body, so to speak. A verynervous chap ’e is – afraidof ’is own shadow.Ha, ha!Excusemy little joke!Makeroom!Moveon!ObservetheRules!”

ThePrimeMinister’sshadowfloatedby,bowingtorightandleft.“Greeting,friends!Whatawonderfulnight.Dearme!”HestaredatJaneand

Michael.“You’reverythickandlumpish!”“Hsssst!”TheshadowoftheParkKeepermutteredinhisear.“Invitation...

specialoccasion...friendsof...whisper,whisper.”“Ah! If that’s thecase,you’reverywelcome.Butdobecarefulwhereyou

tread.Wedon’tliketobesteppedon.”“Oneofthem’ssteppingonme,Ithink!”Anervousvoiceseemedtocome

fromthegrass.Michael carefully shifted his feet as the shadow of the Keeper of the

ZoologicalGardenscamecrawlingpastonallfours.“Anyluck?”criedthecrowdexcitedly.“Hundreds!”camethehappyreply.“RedAdmirals.BlueAdmirals.Spotted

Bermudas.PinkAmazons.ChineseYellows!”Hewavedtheshadowofhisnet.Itwasfullofbutterflyshadows.“Well, I know one you haven’t got – and that’s an Admiral Boom!” A

shadowinacockedhat,withaspectraldachshundatitsheels,elboweditswaythroughthethrong.“Veryrarespecimenindeed.Largestbutterflyintheworld!Allhail,myhearties!”

“Yo,ho,ho!Andabottleofrum!”Theshadowsyelledinreply.TheAdmiral’sshadowturnedtothechildren.“Welcomeaboard!”itsaid,winking.“‘Catchaleaf,amessagebrief’–only

anoldwives’tail–hey?Ah,hereshecomes!Yourservant,ma’am.”Thecockedhatbowedtoabroadshadowthatwassailing through thesee-

saw.Itwasdressedinashadowyswirlofskirts,andaswarmoflittleweightlessshapesflutteredaboutitshead.

“TheBirdWoman!”whisperedJanetoMichael.“Whoareyoucallin’anoldwife?Feedthebirds!Tuppenceabag!”A cry of pleasure went up from the crowd as everyone greeted the new

arrival.Thechildrensawtheirownreflectionsrunningtokisshercheeks,andasthough–tonight–theywereshadows,theyhurriedafterthem.

Thepartywasgrowingmoreandmore lively.ThewholeParkwasringingwithlaughter.Andabovethevoices,highandsweet,camethereedynoteoftheflute.

“Overthehillsandfaraway!”playedTom,thePiper’sSon.AndinCherryTreeLanethepeoplelyinginbedlistenedandhuddledunder

theblankets.“It’sHallowe’en!”eachsaidtohimself.“OfcourseIdon’tbelieveinghosts

–butlistentothemshrieking!”Theywouldhavebeensurprised,perhaps,hadtheydaredtolookoutofthe

window.Every second the crowd thickened. And it seemed to the children as they

watchedthateveryonetheyhadeverknownhadashadowattheparty.WasthatAuntFlossie’s?Theycouldnot tell.Shewasthereandgoneagain.AndsurelythosewereJohnandBarbara’sflittingamongtheleaves!

“Well,lovies?”murmuredtheBirdWoman’sshadow,asitsmiledatthefouryoungfaces–agirlwithherairyshapebesideherandaboyarm-inarmwithhisdouble.

“Quack-quack!”saidavoiceatthesamemoment.“Oh,Goosey-Gander,waitforus!”Andawaywenttheairychildren.TheBirdWoman’sshadowgathereditsskirtsandmaderoomonthebench

forJaneandMichael.“My!” she exclaimed, asher armswent round them. “You’re solid andno

mistake!”“That’sbecausewe’rereal,”saidJane.“Bonesandtoe-nailsandhairandblood,”Michaelkindlyinformedher.“Ah!” The Bird Woman’s shadow nodded. “I expect you ’ad a Special

Ticket. It isn’t everyone gets the chance.But you’re not tellin’me – are you,lovies?–thatshaddersisn’treal?”

“Well–theygothroughthings.Andthey’remadeofnothing,”Janetriedtoexplain.

TheBirdWomanshookhershadowyhead.“Nothin’s made of nothin’, lovey. And that’s what they’re for – to go

throughthings.Throughandoutontheotherside–it’sthewaytheygettobewise.You takemyword for it,my loves,whenyou knowwhat your shadderknows–thenyouknowalot.Yourshadder’stheotherpartofyou,theoutside

ofyourinside–ifyouunderstandwhatImean.”“Don’texplain!It’snouse.Theydon’tunderstandanything!”TheportlyshadowofCockRobincametrippingpastthebench.“TheytoldmeonlyamomentagothatCockRobinneverexisted.Well,who

wasburied,I’dliketoknow!Andwhywerethebirdsa-sighinganda-sobbing?Takecare,Bo-peep!Dolookwhereyou’regoing.Thoselambsofyoursnearlyknockedmeover!”

A shadowcarrying a crookwas skimming through the crowd.Andbehindheraflockofcurlyshapesgambolledonthelawn.

“ButIthoughtBo-peephadlosthersheep!”criedMichaelinsurprise.“That’s right!” The Bird Woman’s shadow chuckled. “But ’er shadder

alwaysfindsthem.”“We’vebeen looking foryoueverywhere!”a trioofvoicesgrunted.Three

furryshadowsscatteredthesheepandboreBo-peepaway.“Oh!”exclaimedJane.“They’retheThreeBears.Ihopethey’lldonothingto

hurther.”“Hurther?Blessyou,whyshouldthey?Ashadderneverdidanyoneharm–

atleast,notasIknowof.See!Thefourof’em–dancin’togetherasfriendlyascanbe!”

TheBirdWoman’sshadowsurveyed thescene,beating time to thePiper’sflute.Thensuddenlythemusicchangedandshestartedupwithacry.“’Eretheyareatlast,lovies!Getuponthebenchandlook!”

“Whoarehere?”demandedMichael.Butevenashespoke,heknew.Themusicof the concertinahad changed to a statelymarch.The shadows

wereclearingapathintheirmidst.Anddownbetweenthewavinglinescameapairoffamiliarfigures.

One of them was small and old, with elastic-sided boots on her feet andthreepennybitsonhercoat.

And theother–oh,howwell theyknew it–wascarryingaparrot-headedumbrellaandwearingatulip-trimmedhat.

Tum!Tum!Tee-um,tum,tum!theconcertinaboomed.On they came, the two figures, graciously bowing to all spectators and

followedby thebulky formsofFannieandAnnieCorry.Solid fleshandbonethey were amid the transparent shapes, and the children saw that their fourshadowswerefirmlyattachedtotheirheels.

Ashoutofrapturerosefromthethrong.AndthesleepersinCherryTreeLaneshudderedandthrusttheirheadsunder

theirpillows.“A Hallowe’en welcome, Mary Poppins! Three cheers for the Birthday

Eve!”“’Ip,’Ip,’Ooray!”yelledtheBirdWoman’sshadow.“Whose birthday is it?” Jane enquired. Shewas standing on tiptoe on the

bench,tremblingwithexcitement.“It’s ’ers – Miss Mary Poppins’ – tomorrer! ’Allowe’en falls on the day

before,soofcoursewemakeanightofit.FeedtheBirds!Tuppenceabag!”sheshoutedtoMaryPoppins.

The rosy facebeneath the tulip smiledather inacknowledgement.Then itglancedupatthetwochildrenandthesmiledisappeared.

“Whyaren’tyouwearingadressing-gown,Michael?And, Jane,whereareyourslippers?Afinepairofscarecrowsyouare–tocometoaneveningparty!”

“Aha! You were cleverer than I thought! Taking care of your shadows, Ihope!”MrsCorrygrinned.

Butbeforethechildrenhadtimetoreply,themusicchangedfromasolemnmarchtoareeling,rompingdance.

“Choose your partners! Time’s running out!We must all be back on thestrokeoftwelve!”ThevoiceofthePoliceman’sshadowroseabovethelaughter.

“Praygivemethepleasure,dearestfriend!”TheshadowoftheFatherBearbowedtoMrsCorry.

“A-a-away, you rolling river!” The Admiral’s shadow grasped MissAndrew’sandwhirleditthroughalitter-basket.

TheFishmonger’sshadowraiseditshattoanotherthatlookedlikeMrsBrill;theshadowoftheMotherBearfloatedtoOldKingCole.ThePrimeMinister’sshadow and Aunt Flossie’s jumped up and down in the fountain. And CockRobinpropelledalanguidshapewhoseheadhungdownonitschest.

“Wakeup,wakeup,mygoodshadow!Whoareyou?Wheredoyoulive?”TheshadowgavealoudyawnandslumpedagainstCockRobin.“Mumble,

mumble.Broomcupboard.OveracrosstheLane.”JaneandMichaelglancedateachother.“RobertsonAy!”theysaid.Roundandroundwenttheswayingshapes,handreachingouttohand.And

the children’s shadows were everywhere – darting after the Baby Bear orhuggingtheDancingCow.

“Really!”Mrs Corry trilled. “I haven’t had such an evening out since thedaysofGoodQueenBess!”

“Howfrivoloussheis!”saidherdaughters,astheylumberedalongtogether.AsforMaryPoppins,shewaswhirlinglikeaspinning-topfromonepairof

arms toanother.Now itwouldbe theAdmiral’s shadowandnext itwouldbeGoosey-Gander’s turn. She danced a polka with Cock Robin’s shadow and awaltzwith the ParkKeeper’s.Andwhen the transparentButcher claimed her,they broke into a mad gallop, while her own shadow stuck to her shoes andcaperedafterher.

Twining together and interlacing, the vaporous shapes went by. And JaneandMichael,watchingtherevels,begantofeelquitegiddy.

“I wonder why Mary Poppins’ shadow isn’t free – like the others? It’sdancing beside her all the time. And so isMrs Corry’s!” Jane turned with afrowntotheBirdWoman’sshadow.

“Ah,she’scunning–thatMrsCorry!She’soldandshe’slearntalot.Let’ershadder escape – not she!Nor Fannie’s andAnnie’s either. And as forMaryPoppins’shadder–”achuckleshookthebroadshape–“Itwouldn’tleave’erifyoupaidit–notforathousandpound!”

“Myturn!”criedtheshadowofOldKingCole,ashepluckedMaryPoppinsfromtheButcher’sarmsandboreheroffintriumph.

‘Mine too! Mine too!” cried a score of voices. “Haste, haste, no time towaste!”

Faster and faster the music played as the fateful hour drew nearer. Themerrimentwasatitspeak–whensuddenly,abovethedin,cameashrillcryofdistress.

And there, at the edge of the group of dancers, stood a small white-cladfigure. It wasMrs Boom, in her dressing-gown, with a lighted candle in herhand,lookinglikeananxioushenasshegazedatthelivelyscene.

“Oh,please,”shepleaded.“Willsomebodyhelpme?TheAdmiral’sinsuchastate.He’sthreateningtosinktheshipbecausehe’slosthisshadow.Ah,thereyouare!”Herfacebrightenedasshespiedtheshapeshesought.“He’srantingandroaringsodreadfully–won’tyoupleasecomehome?”

TheAdmiral’sshadowheavedasigh.“I leavehim foronenight in theyear– andhe threatens to sink the ship?

Now, that’sa thingI’dneverdo.He’snothingbutaspoiltchild–nosenseofresponsibility.ButIcannotdisobligeyou,ma’am.”

Hewaved his hand to his fellow-shadows and lightly blew a kiss each toMaryPoppinsandMrsCorry.

“Farewell and Adieu to you, sweet Spanish ladies!” he sang as he turned

away.“So kind of you!” chirpedMrsBoom, as she tripped beside himwith her

candle.“Who’s that?”shecalled,as theycameto theGate.“Surely itcan’tbeyou,MissLark?”

A night gowned figurewas rushing through it,wrapped in a tartan shawl.Andbesideher,twoexciteddogssnatchedatthetrailingfringes.

“Itcan!Itis!”MissLarkreplied,asshedashedacrossthelawn.“Oh,dear!”shemoaned, as she came to the swings. “I dreamed thatmy shadow had runaway–andwhenIwokeupitwastrue.Alas,alas,whatshallIdo?Ican’tgetalongwithoutit!”

Sheturnedhertearfuleyestothedancersandhereyebrowswentupwithajerk.

“Goodgraciousme,LucindaEmily!Whatareyoudoinghere?Dancing?Withstrangers?InthePark?Iwouldn’thavethoughtitofyou.”

“Friends–notstrangers!”avoicereplied,asashadowdeckedinscarvesandbeadsflutteredoutofthecrowd.“I’mgayerthanyouthink,Lucinda.Andsoareyou, if you but knew it.Why are you always fussing and fretting instead ofenjoyingyourself?Ifyoustoodonyourheadoccasionally,I’dneverrunaway!”

“Well...”MissLarksaiddoubtfully.Itseemedsuchastrangeidea.“Comehomeandlet’stryittogether!”Hershadowtookherbythehand.“Iwill,Iwill!”MissLarkdeclared.Andhertwodogslookedateachotherin

horror at the thought of such a thing. “We’ll practise on the drawing-roomhearthrug, Professor! What are you doing out at night? Think of yourrheumatism!”

TheLaneGateopenedwithacreakandtheProfessorambledoverthegrasswithhishandclaspedtohisbrow.

“Alack!”hecried.“I’velostsomething.ButIcan’trememberwhatitis.”“L-look for L-lost P-property in the L-litter-b-basket!” a trembling voice

advisedhim.TheParkKeeper,dodgingfrombushtobush,wasedgingtowardsthedancers.

“I ’ad to come.” His teeth chattered. “I must do my duty to the Park nomatterwhatgoeson!”

Frombehindthebigmagnoliatreehestaredattherollickingscene.“Golly!” he muttered, reeling backwards. “It’s enough to give you the

shivers!Ow!Lookout!There’soneof’emcomin’!”AshadowbrokeawayfromtherestandfloatedtowardstheProfessor.“Lostsomething,Iheardyousay.Andcan’tthinkwhatitis?Now,that’sa

strangecoincidence–I’minthesameplight!”Itpeeredshort-sightedlyat theProfessorandasuddensmileofrecognition

spreadacrossitsface.“Mydearfellow–canitbe?Itis.We’velosteachother!”A pair of long, transparent arms enfolded the tweed jacket. The Professor

gaveacrowofdelight.“Lostand found!”Heembracedhis shadow.“Howbeautifulare those two

wordswhenonehearsthembothtogether!Oh,neverletuspartagain!YouwillrememberwhatIforget—”

“Andviceversa!”hisshadowcried.Andthetwooldmenwanderedoffwiththeirarmsaroundeachother.

“But I tell you it’s against the Rules!” The Park Keeper pulled himselftogether. “’Allowe’en ought to be forbidden. Get along off, you ghosts andshadows!Nodancin’allowedinthePark!”

“Youshould talk!” jeeredMaryPoppins,as shecaperedpastwith theCat.Shenoddedherhead towards the swingsand theParkKeeper’s facegrewredwithshame.

FortherehebeheldhisownshadowdancingaHighlandFling!

Tee-um,tum.Tee-um,tum.Tee-um,tee-um,tee-um.

“Stop!Whoathere!Havedone!”heshouted.“Youcomealongwithmethisminute. I’m ashamed of you – breakin’ the Rules like this. Lumme, what’s’appeningtomelegs?”

Forhisfeet,asthoughtheylivedalifeoftheirown,hadbeguntohopandskip. Off they went – tee-um, tee-um! And by the time he had reached hisshadow,hetoowasdoingtheHighlandFling.

“Now, you keep still!” he warned it sternly, as they both slowed downtogether.“Be’aveyourselflikea’umanbein’!”

“Butshadowsaresomuchnicer!”hisshadowsaidwithagiggle.“Fred! Fred!” hissed an anxious voice, as a head in an old-fashioned

nightcapcameroundtheedgeofalaurel.“Benjamin!”theParkKeepercried.“Whatdoyouthinkyou’redoin’?”“Searching for my shadow, Fred,” said the Keeper of the Zoological

Gardens. “It ran away when I wasn’t looking. And I dare not face the HeadKeeperunlessIhaveitwithme!A-a-ah!”Hemadeaswoopwithhisnet.

“Gotyou!”hecriedtriumphantly,ashescoopedupaflyingshape.Hisshadowgaveaghostlylaugh,clearandhighandtinkling.“You’ve gotme,Benjamin!” it trilled. “But you haven’t gotmy treasures.

Youshan’thavethemtoputinacage–they’regoingwheretheybelong!”Outofthenetcameanairyhand.Andaclusteroftinyflittingshapessped

awaythroughthesky.Onealoneflutteredoverthedancersasthoughlookingforsomething.ThenitdarteddowntowardsthegrassandsettledontheleftshoulderofMaryPoppins’shadow.

“Abirthdaygift!”pipedavoicefromthenet,astheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardenscarriedhisshadowhome.

“Abutterflyforabirthday!”Thefriendlyshadowswhoopedwithdelight.“That’sallverywell,”saidacheerfulvoice.“Butterfliesisallrightintheir

place–butwhataboutmybirdies?”Alongthepathcameabuxomwoman,withatossing,cooingcrowdofdoves

tumbling all about her.Therewasoneonher hat, oneonher shawl; a dove’sbrighteyepeeredoutfromherpocketandanotherfromunderherskirt.

“Mum!”saidtheParkKeeperanxiously.“It’slateforyoutobeout.”Keepingafirmholdofhisshadow,hehurriedtoherside.“Iknowit,lad.ButI’adtocome.Idon’tsomuchmindaboutmyown–but

mybirdies’avelosttheirshadders!”“Excuseme,lovies!”saidtheBirdWoman’sshadow,asshesmiledatJane

andMichael.“ButI’avetogowhereIbelong–that’stheLaw,youknow.Hey,olddear!”itcalledsoftly.“Lookin’forme,Iwonder?”

“Ishouldn’twonderifIwas!”TheBirdWomangavehershadowacalmandhumorousglance.“Igotthebirds,yougottheshadders.Andit’snotformetosaywhichisbest–buttheyoughttobetogether.”

Her shadow lightlywaved its hand and theBirdWomangave a contentedchuckle.Fornow,beneatheachgreydove,adarkshadowwasflying.

“Feedthebirds!”sheshoutedgaily.“Tuppenceabag!”saidhershadow.“Tuppence,fourpence,sixpence,eightpence–thatmakestwenty-four.No,it

doesn’t.What’sthematter?I’veforgottenhowtoadd!”MrBankscameslowlyacrosstheParkwithhisbath-robeoverhisshoulders.

His armswere stretched out straight before him and hewalkedwith his eyesclosed.

“We’rehere,Daddy!”criedJaneandMichael.ButMrBankstooknonotice.“I’ve got my bag and the morning paper – and yet there’s something

missing.”“Takehimhome,someone!”theshadowscried.“He’swalkinginhissleep!”Andoneofthem–inashadowycoatandbowlerhat–sprangtoMrBanks’

side.“There,oldchap!I’lldothecounting.Comealongbacktobed.”MrBanksturnedobedientlyandhissleepingfacelitup.“Ithoughttherewassomethingmissing,”hemurmured.“ButitseemsIwas

mistaken!”Hetookhisshadowbythearmandsaunteredawaywithit.“Seeking’sfinding–eh,ducky?”TheBirdWomannudgedhershadow.“Oh,

begpardon,YourWorship.”Shebobbedacurtsey.“Iwasn’taddressin’you!”For the Lord Mayor and two Aldermen were advancing along the Walk.

Theirbigcloaksbillowedoutbehindthemandtheirchainsofofficejingled.“I’opeIfindYourHonourwell?”theBirdWomanmurmuredpolitely.“You do not, Mrs Smith,” the LordMayor grumbled. “I am feeling very

upset.”“Upset,myboy?”shriekedMrsCorry,dancingpastwiththeCow.“Well,an

apple a day keeps the doctor away, as I used to remind my Great-Great-Grandsonwhowas thriceLordMayorofLondon.Whittington,hisnamewas.Perhapsyou’veheardofhim?”

“YourGreat-Great-Grandfatheryoumean!”TheLordMayor lookedatherhaughtily.

“Fiddlesticks!Indeed,Idon’t.Well,what’supsettingyou?”“Aterriblemisfortune,ma’am.I’velost—”HeglancedaroundtheParkand

hiseyesbulgedinhishead.“That!” he cried, flinging out his hand. For there, indeed, was his portly

shadow,doingitsbesttoconcealitselffromFannieandAnnie.“Oh,bother!”itwailed.“Whatanuisanceyouare!Couldn’tyouletmehave

onenightoff?IfyouknewhowwearyIamofprocessions!AndasforgoingtoseetheKing—”

“Certainly not!” said the Lord Mayor, “I could never agree to appear inpublicwithoutasuitableshadow.Suchasuggestionismostimproperand,whatismore,undignified.”

“Well,youneedn’tbesohighandmighty.You’reonlyaLordMayor,youknow–nottheShahofBaghdad!”

“Hic-Hic!”TheParkKeeperstifledasniggerandtheLordMayorturnedtohimsternly.

“Smith,”hedeclared,“thisisyourfault.YouknowtheRulesandyoubreak

them all.Giving a party in the Park!What next, Iwonder? I’m afraid there’snothingforit,Smith,buttospeaktotheLordHighChancellor!”

“It’s notmy party, Yer Worship – please! Give me another chance, YerHonour.Thinkofmeporeold—”

“Don’t youworry aboutme, Fred!”TheBirdWoman snapped her fingerssharply.

Andat once thedoves clapped theirwings and swooped towards theLordMayor.Theysatonhishead,theysatonhisnose,theytuckedtheirtail-feathersdownhisneckandflutteredinsidehiscloak.

“Oh,don’t!I’maticklishman!Hee,hee!”TheLordMayor,quiteagainsthiswill,burstintohelplesslaughter.

“Removethesebirdsatonce,Smith!Iwon’tbetickled–oh,ha,ha!”He laughed, he crowed, he guffawed, he tittered, ducking and whirling

amongthedancersashetriedtoescapethedoves.“Notundermychin!–Oh,oh!–Havemercy!Oof!There’soneinsidemy

sleeve.Oh,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,hee!Dearme!Isthatyou,MissMaryPoppins?Well, that makes all the – tee-hee! – difference. You’re so re– ho, ho! –spectable.”TheLordMayorwrithedasthesoftfeathersrustledbehindhisears.

“What awonderful party you’re having!” he shrieked. “Ha, ha!Ho, ho! Ishouldhavecomesooner.Listen!Ihearmyfavouritetune–‘Overthehillsandfaraway’!”Hee,hee!Ha,ha!Andfaraway!”

“Is thereanythingthematter,YourHonour?”ThePoliceman,withEllenonhisarm,strodetowardstherevels.

“There is!”TheLordMayor giggledwildly. “I’m ticklish and I can’t stoplaughing. Everything seems so terribly funny – and you in particular.Do yourealise you’ve lost your shadow? It’s over there on a swing – hee, hee! – –playingaconcertina!”

“Noshadow,sir?Aconcertina?”ThePolicemangapedattheLordMayorasthough he had lost his wits. “Nobody’s got a shadow, Your Honour. Andshadowsdon’tplayonconcertinas–atleast,nottomyknowledge.”

“Don’tbeso–tee-hee!”–silly,man.Everyone’sgotashadow!”“Notat thismoment, theyhaven’t,YourWorship!There’sacloudcoming

overthemoon!”“Alas!Acloud!Itcametoosoon!Whenshallwemeetagain?”Ashadowywailingfilledtheair.ForevenasthePolicemanspoke,thebright

moonveiledherface.Darknessdroppedlikeacloakonthesceneandbeforetheeyes of the watching children every shadow vanished. Themerry music died

away.AndassilencefellupontheParkthesteeplesabovethesleepingCityrangtheirmidnightchime.

“Our time is up!” cried the plaintive voices. “Hallowe’en’s over! Away,away!”

Lightasabreeze,pastJaneandMichael,theinvisibleshadowsswept.“Farewell!”saidone.“Adieu!”another.AndathirdattheedgeofJane’searpipedanoteonhisflute.“Feedthebirds,tuppenceabag!”TheBirdWomanwhistledsoftly.Andthe

dovescreptoutoftheLordMayor’ssleeveandfromunderthebrimofhishat.Nine!Ten!Eleven!Twelve!Thebellsofmidnightceased.“Farewell!Farewell!”calledthefadingvoices.“Overthehillsandfaraway!”camethefar-offflutingecho.“Oh,Tom,thePiper’sSon,”criedJane.“Whenshallweseeyouagain?”Thensomethingsofterthanairtouchedthem,enfoldedthemanddrewthem

away.“Whoareyou?” theycried in thefallingnight.Theyseemedtobefloating

onwingsofdarkness,overtheParkandhome.Andtheanswercamefromwithoutandwithinthem.“Yourotherselves–yourshadows...”

“Hrrrrrumph!”TheLordMayorgavehimselfashakeasthoughhewerecomingoutofadream.

“Farewell!”hemurmured,wavinghishand.“Thoughwho–orwhat–I’msayingitto,Ireallydonotknow.Iseemedtobepartofabeautifulparty.Allsomerry!Butwherehavetheygone?”

“I expect you’re over-tired, Your Worship!” The Policeman, closelyfollowedbyEllen,drewhimawaytotheLongWalkandthegatethatledtotheCity.

BehindthemmarchedtheAldermen,solemnanddisapproving.“IexpectIam,”theLordMayorsaid.“Butitdidn’tfeellikethat...”

TheParkKeeperglancedaroundtheParkandtookhismother’sarm.Darknessfilledtheskylikeatide.Inalltheworld,asfarashiswatchfuleyescouldsee,therewereonlytwopointsoflight.

“Thattherestar,”hesaid,pointing,“andthenightlightinNumberSeventeen–ifyoulookat’emlongenough,Mum,youcan’ardlytellwhichiswhich!”

TheBirdWomandrewherdovesaboutherandsmiledathimcomfortably.“Well,one’stheshadderoftheother!Let’sbegoin’,lad...”

Michael came slowly in to breakfast, looking back over his shoulder. Andslowly,slowly,adarkshapefollowedhimoverthefloor.

“Myshadow’shere–isyours,Jane?”“Yes,”shesaid,sippinghermilk.Shehadbeenawakealongtime,smiling

athershadow.Anditseemedtoher,as thesunshonein, thathershadowwassmilingback.

“Andwhereelsewouldtheybe,pray?Takeyourporridge,please.”Mary Poppins, in a fresh white apron, crackled into the room. She was

carryingherbestbluecoatandthehatwiththecrimsontulip.“Well–sometimesthey’reinthePark,”saidJane.Shegavethewhiteapron

acautiousglance.Whatwoulditsaytothat?shewondered.Thecoatwenton to its hookwith a jerk and thehat seemed to leap to its

paperbag.“InthePark–orthegarden–orupatree!Ashadowgoeswhereveryougo.

Don’tbesilly,Jane.”“Butsometimestheyescape,MaryPoppins.”Michaelreachedforthesugar.

“Likeours,lastnight,attheHallowe’enParty!”“Hallowe’enParty?”shesaid,staring.Andyouwouldhavethought,tolook

ather,shehadneverheardthosewordsbefore.“Yes,”hesaidrashly,takingnonotice.“Butyourshadowneverrunsaway–

doesit,MaryPoppins?”She glanced across at theNurserymirror andmet her own reflection.The

blue eyes glowed, the pink cheeks shone and the mouth wore a small,complacentsmile.

“Whyshoulditwantto?”shesaid,sniffing.Runaway?Theidea!“Notforathousandpounds!”criedMichael.Andthememoryofthenight’s

adventurebubbledup insidehim.“Oh,howI laughedat theLordMayor!”Hesplutteredattheverythought.“AndMrsCorry!AndGoosey-Gander!”

“Andyou,MaryPoppins,”giggledJane.“HoppingaboutalloverthePark–andthebutterflyonyourshadow’sshoulder!”

Michael and Jane looked at each other and roaredwithmirth. They flungbacktheirheadsandheldtheirsidesandrolledaroundintheirchairs.

“Oh,dear!I’mchoking!Howfunnyitwas!”“Indeed?”

Avoiceassharpasaniciclebroughtthemupwithajerk.Theystoppedinthemiddleofalaughandtriedtocomposetheirfaces.For

thebrightblueeyesofMaryPoppinswerewidewithshockedsurprise.“Hoppingabout?Withabutterfly?Atnight? Inapublicplace?Doyousit

there,JaneandMichaelBanks,andcallmeaKangaroo?”This,theycouldsee,wasthelaststraw.Thecamel’sbackwasbroken.“SittingonGoosey-Gander’sshoulder?HoppingandflyingalloverthePark

–isthatwhatyou’retryingtotellme?”“Well, not like a Kangaroo, Mary Poppins. But you were hopping, I

think. . .” Michael plunged for the right word as she glared at him over theteapot.Butthesightofherfacewastoomuchforhim.OutofthecornerofhiseyehelookedacrossatJane.

“Helpme!”hecriedtohersilently.“Surelywedidnotdreamit?”ButJane,fromthecornerofhereye,waslookingbackathim.“No,itwas

true!” she seemed to say. For she gave her head a little shake and pointedtowardsthefloor.

Michaellookeddown.TherelayMaryPoppins’shadow,neatlyspreadoutuponthecarpet.Jane’s

shadowandhisownwereleaningupagainstit,anduponitsshoulder,blackinthesun,wasashadowybutterfly.

“Oh!”criedMichaeljoyfully,droppinghisspoonwithaclatter.“Oh,what?”saidMaryPoppinstartly,glancingdownatthefloor.She looked from the butterfly toMichael and then fromMichael to Jane.

And the porridge grew cold on their plates as they all gazed at each other.Nothingwassaid–therewasnothingtosay.Therewerethings,theyknew,thatcouldnotbetold.And,anyway,whatdiditmatter?Thethreelinkedshadowsonthefloorunderstooditall.

“It’syourbirthday,isn’tit,MaryPoppins?”saidMichaelatlast,withagrin.“Manyhappyreturns,MaryPoppins!”Janegaveherhandapat.Apleasedsmilecreptabouthermouth,butshepursedherlipstopreventit.“Whotoldyouthat?”sheenquired,sniffing.Asifshedidn’tknow!ButMichaelwasfullofjoyandcourage.IfMaryPoppinsneverexplained,

why,indeed,shouldhe?Heonlyshookhisheadandsmiled.“Iwonder!”hesaid,inapriggishvoiceexactlylikeherown.“Impudence!” She sprang at him. But he darted, laughing, away from the

table,outoftheNurseryanddownthestairs,withJanecloseathisheels.Alongthegardenpaththeyran,throughthegateandovertheLaneandinto

thewaitingPark.Themorning airwasbright and clear, thebirdswere singing their autumn

songs,andtheParkKeeperwascomingtowardsthemwithalaterosestuckinhiscap...

Chelsea,LondonMarch1952

G.I.E.D.

ToKLTandCJT

IT WAS Midsummer’s Eve. This is the most magical night of the year.Manycuriousthingscanhappeninitbeforeitgiveswaytothedawn.Butitwasnotnightyetbyanymeans.The sun, stillbright,wasdawdling to thewest, lazilytakinghistimeaboutit,asthoughreluctanttoleavetheworld.

He felt thathehaddone itproud,puttingupon it a shineandapolish thatwouldnotquickly fade.Hisown reflection shonebackathim from fountains,lakes andwindow-panes, even from the ripened fruit that hung in the trees ofCherryTreeLane,aplacewellknowntohim.

“Nothing like sunshine,”he flatteredhimself, ashenoted theglitterof theship’s lanterns on either side of the Admiral’s gate; the sparkle of the brassknockeronthedoorofMissLark’smansion;thegleamthatcamefromanoldtin toy, abandoned, apparently, by its owners, in the garden of the smallesthouse.Thistoo,wasaplacewellknowntohim.

“Notasoulinsight,”hethoughttohimself,ashesenthislonglightovertheLane and then across the open space, large and green and blossoming, thatspreadbesideandbeyondit.Andthistoo,heknewwell.Afterall,hehadhadahandinitsmaking.Forwherewouldtheybe–tree,grassandflower–without,as itwere,hishelpinghand,greeningthegrass,coaxingtheleaffromthebarebough,warmingthebudintoflower?

Andhere,amonglengtheninglightandshadows,therewasasoulinsight.“Who’sthat,downthereinthePark?”hewondered,asacuriousfigurewent

backandforth,blowingawhistleandshouting.WhoelsecoulditbebuttheParkKeeper?Itwasnowonder,however,that

the sun did not recognise him for, in spite of the heavy heat of June, hewaswearingablack,felt,sea-faringhatpaintedwithskull-and-crossbones.

“Obey the Rules! Remember the Bye-laws! All Litter to be placed in theBaskets!”hebellowed.

Butnobodytookanynotice.Peoplewentstrollinghand inhand;scatteringlitterastheywent;deliberatelysaunteringonlawnswhosenoticessaidKEEPOFFTHEGRASS;failingtoObservetheRules;forgettingalltheBye-laws.

The Policeman was marching to and fro, swinging his baton and lookingimportant,asifhethoughtheownedtheearthandexpectedtheearthtobegladofit.

Childrenwentupanddownontheswings,swoopinglikeeveningswallows.And the swallows sang their songs so loudly that nobody heard the Park

Keeper’swhistle.Admiral and Mrs Boom, sharing a bag of peanuts between them and

droppingtheemptyshellsastheywent,weretakingtheairintheLongWalk.

“Oh,I’mroamingInthegloamingwithmylassiebymyside!”

sang the Admiral, disregarding the signboard’s warning NO HAWKERS, NOMUSICIANS.

In the Rose Garden, a tall man, in a cricketing cap a little too small andskimpy for him, was dipping his handkerchief into the fountain and wasmoppinghissunburntbrow.

DownbytheLake,anelderlygentlemaninahatoffoldednewspaperstoodturninghisheadthiswayandthat,sniffingtheairlikeagundog.

“Coo-ee,Professor!”calledMissLark,hurryingacross the lawns,withherdogs unwillingly dragging behind her, as though they wished they weresomewhereelse.

ForMissLark,tocelebrateMidsummer’sEve,hadtiedaribbonuponeachhead – pink for Willoughby, blue for Andrew – and they felt ashamed anddejected.What,theywondered,wouldpeoplethink?Theymightbemistakenforpoodles!

“Professor,I’vebeenwaitingforyou.Youmusthavelostyourway.”“Well,that’sthewaywithways,Isuppose.Eitheryoulosethemortheylose

you.Anyway, you’ve foundme,Miss Sparrow.But, alas!” he fanned himself

withhishat,“IfindtheSaharaDesertalittle–er–hot.”“You are not in the Sahara, Professor. You are in the Park. Don’t you

remember?Iinvitedyoutosupper.”“Ah,soyoudid.ToStrawberryStreet.Ihopeitwillbecoolerthere.Foryou

andmeandyourtwo–um–poodles.”Andrew and Willoughby hung their heads. Their worst fears had been

realised.“No,no.Theaddress isCherryTreeLane.AndmynameisLucindaLark.

Dotrynottobesoforgetful.Ah,thereyouare,dearfriends!”shetrilled,asshespiedtheBoomsinthedistance.“Whereareyouofftothisbeautifulevening?”

“Sailing, sailing, over a boundingmain,” sang theAdmiral. “Andmany astormywindshallblow,tillJackcomeshomeagain–won’tit,messmate?”heenquiredofhiswife.

“Yes, dear,” murmured Mrs Boom. “Unless you would like to wait tilltomorrow. Binnacle is making Cottage Pie and there will be Apple Tart fordinner.”

“Cottage Pie! I can’t miss that. Let down the anchor, midshipman.We’llwaitforthemorningtide.”

“Yes, dear,”MrsBoom agreed.But she knew therewould be nomorningtide.Shealsoknewthat theAdmiral,althoughhewasalways talkingabout it,would never go to sea again. Itwas far too far away from land and it alwaysmadehimseasick.

“Obey the Rules! Observe the Bye-laws!” The Park Keeper rushed past,blowinghiswhistle.

“Shipahoythere!Heaveto,oldsalt!”TheAdmiralseizedtheParkKeeper’ssleeve.“That’smyhatyou’rewearing,skipper.Iwonitinahand-to-handfightoffthecoastofMadagascar.Didn’tI,messmate?”hedemanded.

“Ifyousayso,dear,”murmuredMrsBoom.Itwasbetter,sheknew,toagreethantoargue.Butprivatelyshewasawareofthefacts–thatthehatbelongedtoBinnacle,aretiredpiratewhokepttheAdmiral’sshipshapedhouseasshipshapeasonlyapiratecould;and,moreover,thatneitherhenorherhusbandhadeverclappedeyesonMadagascar.

“AndIthoughtIhadlostmySkull-and-Crossbones!Wheredidyoufindit,yousonofasea-snake?”

“Well, it fell down, sort of, out of the sky.” The Park Keeper shuffleduneasily.“AndIputitonbymistake,sotosay,notmeaninganyharm,Admiral,sir.”

“Nonsense!You’re thinkingofcannonballs.Piratehatsdon’tfall fromthesky.HanditovertoMrsBoom.ShecarriesalltheheavythingswhileIspyouttheland.”TheAdmiraltookouthistelescopeandfixedittohiseye.

“ButwhatamIgoingtoputonmyhead?”theParkKeeperdemanded.“Gotosea,myman,andthey’llgiveyouacap.AwhitethingwithH.M.S.

Somethingonit.Youcan’thavemypiratehat,Ineedit.ForawayI’mboundtogo–oho!–’crossthewideMissouri.”

AndtheAdmiral,singinglustily,draggedhiswifeandthehataway.The ParkKeeper glanced round anxiously.What if the LordMayor came

along and found him with his head uncovered? He dared not think of theconsequences.Ifonlythelongdaywereover.Ifonlyallthesecrowdingpeople,lollingorstrollinghandinhand,wouldgohometotheirsuppers.ThenhecouldlocktheParkGatesandslipawayinto thedarkwherehis lackofacapwouldnotbenoticed.Ifonlythesunwouldgodown!

But the sun still lingered. No onewent home. Theymerely opened paperbags,tookoutcakesandsandwichesandthrewthebagsontothegrass.

“You’dthinktheythoughttheyownedthePark,”saidtheParkKeeper,whothoughtheownedithimself.

More people streamed in through the Main Gate, two by two, choosingballoons;ortwobytwofromMudge’sFairGround,buyingicecreamfromtheIceCreamMan,eachoneholdingtheother’shandasthefallingsunthrewtheirlongshadowsbeforethemonthelawns.

And then, through the Lane Gate, came another shadow that precededthrough the twopillarsasmallbut formalprocession–aperambulatorpackedwithtoysandchildren;atonesideagirlwhocarriedabasket,attheotheraboyinasailorsuitwithastringbagswingingfromhishand.

Basket and bag were both well stocked as though for some lengthyexcursion. And, pushing the perambulator, was an upright figure with brightpink cheeks, bright blue eyes and a turned-upnose– a figure that to theParkKeeperwasonlytoofamiliar.

“Oh, no!” he muttered to himself. “Not at this hour, for Heaven’s sake!What’sshedoingsettingoutwhensheoughttobegoinghome?”

Hecrossedthelawnandaccostedthegroup.“Late,aren’tyou?”heenquired,trying,asfarashecould,tolookfriendly.If

hehadbeensomekindofdog,histailwouldhavegivenamodestwag.“Late forwhat?”Mary Poppins demanded, looking right through the Park

Keeperasthoughhewereawindow.

Hequailedvisibly.“Well,whatImeant tosaywas–you’resortofupsidedown,sotospeak.”

Theblueeyesgrewashadebluer.Hecouldseehehadoffendedher.“Areyouaccusingme,”sheenquired,“awell-brought-uprespectableperson,

ofstandingonmyhead?”“No,no,ofcoursenot.Notonyourhead.Notlikeanacrobat.Nothinglike

that.”TheParkKeeper, thoroughlymuddled,wasnowafraidthathehimselfwas

theonethatwasupsidedown.“Itjustthatit’ssortoflateintheday,thetimewhenyou’reusuallycoming

back– tea andbedand that sortof thing.Andhereyouare, sallying forth, asthoughyouwereoffonajaunt.”Heeyedthebulgingbagandbasket.“Withallandsundry,sotospeak.”

“Weare.We’rehavingasupperpicnic.”Janepointedtothebasket.“There’splenty of everything in here.You never knowwhen a friendwill appear – soMaryPoppinssays.”

“Andwe’restayingupforhoursandhours,”saidMichael,swinginghisbag.“Asupperpicnic!”TheParkKeeperwinced.Hehadneverheardofsucha

thing. And was it even permitted, he wondered. His list of Bye-laws racedthroughhisheadandhepromptlygaveittongue.

“Observe theRules!” hewarned the group. “AllLitter to be placed in thepropercontainers.Noeggshellsleftlyingaboutonthegrass.”

“Arewecuckoos,”demandedMaryPoppins,“tobescatteringeggsineverydirection?”

“Imeanthard-boiled,”saidtheParkKeeper.“Thereneverwasapicnic,ever,thatdidn’thavehard-boiledeggs.Andwhereareyougoing,mightIask?”IfthepicnicwastobeinthePark,hefelthehadarighttoknow.

“We’reoffto—”Janebeganeagerly.“That will do, Jane,” said Mary Poppins. “We will not hob-nob with

strangers.”“But I’m no stranger!” The Park Keeper stared. “I’m here every day and

Sundays.Youknowme.I’mtheParkKeeper.”“Then why aren’t you wearing your hat?” she demanded, giving the

perambulator such a forceful push that if the Park Keeper had not jumpedbackwards,itwouldhaverunoverhisfoot.

“Step along, please!” saidMary Poppins. And the little cavalcade steppedalong,orderlyandpurposeful.

TheParkKeeperwatchedtillitdisappeared,withaswishofMaryPoppins’newspriggeddress,behindtherhododendrons.

“Hob-nob!”hespluttered.“Whodoesshethinksheis,Iwonder?”There was no one at hand to answer that question and the Park Keeper

dismissedit.Uppity–that’swhatshewas,hethought.Andnogreatbargaintolookateither.Shecouldgowhereshelikedforallhecared–theLongWalkledto all sorts of places: theZoo, St Paul’s, even theRiver – itmight be any ofthem.Well,hecouldn’tpatrol thewholeofLondon.His jobwas tosee to thePark.So,readyforanymisdemeanour,hecastavigilanteyeabouthim.

“Hey,you!”heshoutedwarningly,asthetallmanwhohadwashedhisfacein the fountain bent down to smell a rose – and picked it! “No Picking ofFlowersallowedinthePark.ObeytheRules.RemembertheBye-laws!”

“Icouldhardlyforgetthem,”thetallmananswered.“ConsideringIwastheonewhomadethem.”

“Ha,ha!Youmadethem!Veryfunny!”TheParkKeeperlaughedamirthlesslaugh.

“Well,someofthem,Iadmit,arefunny.Theyoftenmakemechuckle.But,haveyouforgotten,it’sMidsummer’sEve?NobodykeepstheBye-lawstonight.AndImyselfdon’thavetokeepthem,noworatanytime.”

“Oh,no?Andwhodoyoufancyyouarethen?”“Onedoesn’tfancy.Onejustknows.It’sthekindofthingonecan’tforget.

I’mthePrimeMinister.”TheParkKeeper flungbackhisheadandguffawed.“Not in that sillycap,

you’renot.PrimeMinisterswearblackshinyhatsandwhitestripesdowntheirtrousers.”

“Well,I’vebeenhavingagameofcricket.Iknowit’stoosmall.I’vegrownoutofit.Butyoucan’twearatophatwhenyou’rebatting–orbowling,forthatmatter.”

“Isee.Andnowyou’vehadyourlittlegame,you’reofftovisittheKing,Isuppose?”TheParkKeeperwassarcastic.

“Well,asamatteroffact,Iam.AnimportantletterarrivedfromthePalaceas I was leaving home.Now,where did I put thewretched thing?Drat theseskimpyflannelpockets!Notinthisone,notinthat.CanIhavelostit?Ah,nowIremember!” He wrenched off the offending cap and took from within it anenvelopesealedwithalargegoldcrown.

“DEARPRIMEMINISTER,”he readout.“IFYOUHAVENOTHINGBETTERTODO,PLEASECOMEOVERTODINNER.LOBSTER,TRIFLE,SARDINESONTOAST.IAM THINKING OF MAKING A FEW NEW LAWS ANDWOULD BE SO GLAD OF ACHAT.”

“There!What did I tell you? And tonight of all nights! One never gets amoment’speace.Idon’tmindthechat, that’spartofmyjob.ButIcan’tstandlobster.Itupsetsmydigestion.Oh,well,I’llhavetogo,Isuppose.Bye-lawscanalwaysbeby-passed,butLawshavetobekept.Andanyway,”hesaidhaughtily,folding his arms and looking important, “what has it got to do with you? Aperfectstrangeraccostingmeandtellingme–me!–nottopicktheroses!That’stheParkKeeper’sbusiness.”

“I-I am the ParkKeeper,” the ParkKeeper said, shuddering from head tofoot as he stared at the regal letter. He had made a terrible mistake and hetrembledtothinkwhereitmightleadhim.

The PrimeMinister lifted hismonocle, screwed it firmly into his eye andregardedthefigurebeforehim.

“I am shocked!” he said sombrely. “Even stupefied. Almost, I might say,speechless. A public servant in a public place failing to array himself in theuniform provided! I don’t know when I have been so displeased. And what,pray,haveyoudonewithyourhat?”

“I-IdroppeditinaLitter-basket.”“ALitter-basket!Areceptaclefororangepeel!AnemployeeoftheCounty

Councilwhothinkssolittleofhishatthathethrowsitintoa–well,really!Thiskindofthingmustnotgoon.Itwouldbringthecountrytothevergeofruin.IshallspeaktotheLordMayor.”

“Oh,please,YourHonour,itjusthappened.Alittleslipwhenmymindwaselsewhere.I’llgothroughthelitter tomorrowandfindit.Not theLordMayor,YourWorship,please!Thinkofmypooroldmother.”

“Youshouldhavethoughtofheryourself.ParkKeepersarepaidtothink.Tokeep their minds here, not elsewhere. And not to let things just happen.However, as it isMidsummer’sEve – only once a year, after all.”ThePrimeMinister glared at hiswatch. “Dearme, it’s far too late for conditions.You’lljust have to solve the problem yourself. I must hurry home and change mytrousers.”

He bent down to pick up his bat. “You a married man?” he enquired,glancingupattheParkKeeper.

“No,mylord,myPrime–er,no.”“NeitheramI.Apity,that.Notfrommyownpointofview,ofcourse.Butto

thinkthatthere’ssomeonedreamingofme–puttingabunchofherbsunderherpillow–Lad’sLove,Lavender,CreepingJenny–andthennotfindingme,poorwoman. Alas, alas, what a disappointment! Tonight of all nights – youunderstand.”

Andhestrodeoff,swinginghisbatandhisrose,hiswhitetrousersridingupfromhisanklesasthoughtheyhadshrunkinthewash.

TheParkKeeperdidnotunderstand.Whowouldbedisappointed,andwhy?Whatwassospecialabouttonight–exceptthefactthateveryoneseemedtobebreakingtheBye-laws;usingthePublicParkasthoughitweretheirownbackyard? Andwho could that be, he asked himself, as a curious figure, walkingbackwards,feetuncertainlyfeelingtheirway,camestaggeringthroughtheLaneGate?

It was Ellen from Number Seventeen, Cherry Tree Lane, moving like asleep-walker, eyes closed, arms outstretched before her, meandering over thenewlyturfedlawnthathehadmownthismorning.

TheParkKeeperbracedhimself.Hewouldnot standmeeklybywhile theRuleswerenotonlynotbeingObservedbutillegallyflouted.Comewhatmight,thiswassomethinghewouldhavetodealwith,evenwithoutahat.Hiseyesfellonasmallobject lying limplybeside thefountain. Itwas thePrimeMinister’scricketing cap, left behind, apparently, when he hurried off to change histrousers. The Park Keeper seized it gratefully. At least his head would becovered.

“Lookwhere you’re going!Be careful,MissEllen!Beware of swings andsee-saws and such. Steer clear of benches, borders and baskets.” He strodetowardshershoutinghiswarnings.

Slowly,carefully,sometimessneezing,Ellencamebackinginhisdirection.Then, just as she was almost upon him, the Policeman, suddenly spying her,neatlyinsertedhimselfbetweenthemandEllenlandedwithabumpagainsthisbluesergejacket.

“Oh!”shecriedjoyfully,assheturnedaboutandopenedhereyes.“Ihopeditmightbeyou–and it is!What if Ihadmadeamistakeandbumped into thewrongone!”

“What,indeed!”ThePolicemanbeamed.“Butyoudidn’t.AndI’mtherightone,see,andnomistakeaboutit.”

“Itisamistaketodothingslikethat.Youmighthaveknockedsomeoneover

or got yourself a broken leg.And thenwho’d be to blame?Me!NoBackingallowedinaPublicPark!”theParkKeeperwarnedhersternly.

“ButIhaveto.It’sMidsummer’sEve–atishoo!AndifyouwalkbackwardsonMidsummer’sEve,afterputtingaherbortwounderyourpillow–Marjoram,SweetBasil,nomatterwhat–you’llbackintoyourowntrueloveassureasnutsarenuts.Unless it’sagooseberrybush–atishoo! If it is,youhave towait tillnextyear.Totryagain,Imean.”

“Well,I’mnogooseberrybush,amI?”ThePolicemantookherhandinhis.“Soyouwon’thavetowaittillnextyear,willyou?”Hetuckedhisarmthroughhers.

“Butwhatifyouneverbumpintosomeone?Whatifit’salwaysagooseberrybush?” the Park Keeper demanded. It might be an OldWives’ Tale she wastelling.Butwiththese,heknew,youhadtobecareful.Unwisetomakeamockofthem:theywereapttoturnouttobetrue.

“Oh, it’sgot tobesomeonesomeday–atishoo!Therearen’tall thatmanygooseberrybushes.Andthenthere’sthecucumber,don’tforget!”

“What cucumber?” Was this some further silliness? Were they trying tomakeafoolofhim?

“Youdon’tknowanything,doyou?”saidEllen.“Didn’tyourGrandmothertellyounothing?Minetoldittomeandherstoldher.AndherGrandmothertoldittoher,andawayandaway,rightbacktoAdam.”

Hehadbeenright,theParkKeeperthought.ItwasanOldWives’Tale!“Well,thisiswhatyoudo,”saidEllen.“Yourubthejuicebehindyourears,

closeyoureyes,putoutyourarmsandthenstartwalkingbackwards.Itmightbea long timeora short.Atishoo!”Shepaused toblowhernose.“Butat last, ifyou’relucky,youmeetyourTrueLove.”

Shegave thePolicemanablushingglance. “It’switchy,” sheadded, “verywitchy.But–you’llsee!–it’sworthit.”

“Nothinglikecucumber!”thePolicemangrinned.“Luckiestvegetableintheworld!Well,you’vemetyoursandI’vemetmine.Sothenextthingistonametheday.HowaboutnextThursday?”

HetookEllenfirmlybythehandandledherawayacrossthegrass,tossingaside,ashedidso,aspilloftoffeepaper.

TheParkKeepersighedashepickeditupandgazedafterthelovers.Whatwastobehislot,hewondered.Theworldwentstrollingpastinpairs,

twobytwo,handinhand.Wouldsuchathingeverhappentohim?Hadherbsbeentuckedundersomeone’spillowinthehopeofmeetingFrederickSmith,the

ParkKeeper?Wouldanyone–SnowWhite,say,orCinderella–hideherfaceinhissergejacket?

The sun had now laggardly slipped away, leaving behind the long bluetwilight – not day, not night, but something in between – the hour that isthrongedwithfate.

ThePrimeMinisterhaddisappearedandwasevennow,very likely, takinghistophatoutofitshatbox.Everyoneelse,apparently,wasbentontheirownaffairs, even if those very affairswere ruining thePark.Noone, as far as theParkKeepercouldsee,waslookinginhisdirection.

Whatif–itwasnonsense,ofcourse–butwhatifhegavethethingatry?Itcertainlywouldn’t do any harm.And itmight, oh itmight—!He crossed hisfingers.

Straighteninghisblueflannelcap,theParkKeeperglancedfurtivelyround,slipped a hand into his pocket and brought out the crumbling remains of hislunch – a scrap of cucumber sandwich. Cautiously, stealthily, he rubbed thescrapbehindeachearandfeltthejuiceofthecucumberasittrickleddownintohiscollar.Hesummoneduphisdeterminationanddrewalong,deepbreath.

“Goodluck,Fred!”hesaidtohimself.Thenheclosedhiseyes,stretchedouthisarmsinfrontofhimandbegantowalkslowlybackwards.Easynow!Stepbystep.Hegavehimselftothetwilight.

He seemed to be in anotherworld. The Park he knew had dissolved itselfinto the darkness behind his eyes. Voices that had been near and lively grewfaint and faded away. Distant music was wafted to him by people singing inchorus – old songs he seemed to have known as a boy, dreamy, gentle aslullabies.Andsomewhereahurdy-gurdywasplaying.Bert, theMatchMan,ofcourse!

Tch,tch!NOMUSICIANSORHAWKERSALLOWEDINTHEPARK!ButnowtheBye-lawswouldhavetowait.Hehadsomethingelsetodo.Fromtheright–orwasittheleftofhim?–camethesoundofsplashingwater.Oh,whywouldn’tpeoplelookatthenotice?NOSWIMMINGPERMITTEDINTHELAKE.Butperhapsitwasjustthe fish rising,whichwaswhat theydid at thishourof theday.Youcouldn’treallyblamethemforthat.Fish,afterall,can’tread.

On,on.Hisfeetfeltthebendinggrassbeneaththemandthespreadingrootsof trees. The scent of dandelions rose to his nose, something like dandelionsbrushed his boots.Wherewas he? In theWildGarden?He could not tell anddared not look. If he opened his eyes, he might break the spell. On, on.Backward,backward.Hisdestinywasleadinghim.

And now about him were whispering voices, rustlings and stirrings andstifledlaughter.

“Hurry,youboys!”urgedaman’sdeepvoicethatseemedtocomefromfarabovehim.“Wehaven’tgotmuchtime!”

Good Heavens, thought the Park Keeper. Were people actually up in thetrees,breakingthebranchesaswellastheBye-laws?Nevermind.Hehadtogoon.

“We’re coming!” piping voices answered, from the height of the ParkKeeper’sshoulder.“It’stheotherswhoarelaggingbehind.Comeon,Foxy!Andyoutoo,Bear!Whymustyoualwaysbesuchaslowcoach?”

Foxes?Bears?TheParkKeepertrembled.CoulditbethattheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardens,bewitchedbythis thingcalledMidsummer’sEve,hadleftthecagesopen?Mighthehimself,atanymoment,beconfrontedwithajunglebeast,atigerburningbright?

“Oh,help!”hecried,leapingaside,asafurryformbrushedhisankle.Notatiger, he thought, too small and fleecy.A rabbit, itmust be, awild rabbit.NorabbitsallowedinthePublicParks.Hewouldsetatraptomorrow.

Therewere scurryingsnowall abouthimanda sudden swoopandclapofwingsasanairyshapeflewpast.

Somethingthatfeltlikeacherry-stonerappedonhiscapandbouncedaway.It was as though it had been spat out by someone much taller than himself,imagininghim–theParkKeeper–tobeaLitter-basket.Hewashumming,thissomeone,ashestrodeby,arefrainthatsoundedfamiliar.Couldit,perhaps,bePopGoestheWeasel?Ifso,itwasoutoftune.

Thehummingdiedawaybehindhim.Allwassilent.Theworldwasstill,hisfootstepstheonlythingthatmoved.

TheParkKeeperfeltlostandlonely.Hisoutstretchedarmswerebeginningtoache.Hiseyeswerewearyofseeingnothing.

Evenso,backandbackhewent.Allthingscometoanend,heknew.AndhewouldnotfailwhoeveritwaswhowasdreamingherMidsummerdream.

Blindlystumbling,backwards,backwards.And,afterhours, it seemed,andmiles–washeevenstill in thePark?–heheardabouthimadistantmurmur:nothingfestive,nogreatclamour,merelythefriendly,sociablechatterofpeopleatonewitheachother.

Themurmurgrew louder asheneared it.Somebody laughed.Voiceswereraisedandthenlowered.Conversationwentbackandforth.Howbeautiful, theParkKeeper thought, was the sound of human gossip!Whoever these people

were,hewassure, the longed-for“she”wouldbeamongthem.At last,at last,hisfatewasuponhim.Thetimehadcomewhenhe,FredSmith,likeeverybodyelseintheworld,wouldgohandinhand,twobytwo.

Nearer andnearer came the voices.Howmanymore backward stepswereneeded?Threewoulddoit,theParkKeeperthought.Hetookthemslowly.One.Two.Three.

And suddenly – bump! There she was! His spine sensed the shape of acurvingshoulder,slenderandwarm,andhisheartleapt.Allheneeddonowwasturnandfaceher.Heswivelledrounduponhisheelandafirmhandthrusthimsideways.

“I’ll thankyounot tobehave like a carthorse. I amnot a lamp-post!” saidMaryPoppins.

ThevoicewasonlytoowellknownandtheParkKeeper,stillwithhiseyesclosed,letoutacryofprotest.

“Nevernoluckforme,”hewailed.“Imighthaveknownitwouldn’twork.HereIcome,lookingformyTrueLove,andIhavetobumpintoagooseberrybush!”

A cackle of laughter rent the air. “Some gooseberry bush!” jeered anothervoicehewouldrathernothaveheard.

Withagroan,theParkKeeperopenedhiseyesand,asthoughunwillingtobelievewhattheytoldhim,hurriedlyclosedthemagain.

HewasintheHerbGarden,herealised,withitsmarbleseatsanditspavedpath round a square of chamomile lawn. There was nothing new in that, ofcourse.He had planned and planted it himself. But now on the sward he hadmownsooften,amongtheremainsofarecentpicnic–eggshells,cake,sausagerolls – were Mary Poppins and the Banks children, Mrs Corry and her twodaughters,andhisownmothersittingononeoftheseats,smilingherwelcomingsmile.

Nothing new in all that either.But had he seen – yes, he had indeed – hecouldnotdenyhisowneyes–aBearsittingsnuglybesidethehedge,lickingatrumpet ofHoneysuckle; a Fox on its hind legs picking the Foxgloves; and aHareintheParsleypatch!

And as if all thiswere not enough, Jane andMichael,wearingwreaths ofgreen, together with two unknown boys, scantily clad and similarly crowned,were plucking armfuls of herbs; a bigman, armedwith a club and dressed instrips of leather, a studded belt about his waist and a lion-skin round hisshoulders,wasdeckingMaryPoppins’earwithadoublestemofcherries;anda

largebird,perchedonaboughaboveher–thistohimwasthelaststraw!–wasbeingregaledbytheBirdWomanwithasprigoffloweringFennel!

“Mother, how could you?” the Park Keeper cried. “No Picking of HerbsallowedinthePark.YouknowtheBye-lawsandyoubreakthem!”

Thiswasthefirsttimeshehadfailedhimandhefelthecouldneverforgiveher.

“Well,yougottomakeallowances,lad.Heonlycomesdownonceayear.”“I’mnotallowedallowances,Mum!Andbirdsarecomingdownallthetime.

Theycan’tmakenestsupthereinthesky.Afterall,itstandstoreason.”“Nothingstandstoreason,Fred–nottonight,itdoesn’t.”Sheglancedfromthebirdtotheanimals.“Well, isn’t it very reasonable to come and get the things you need? I

would!”saidMichaelstoutly.“Buthowdidtheygetheretogetwhattheyneed?Somebodyletthemoutof

theZoo!”Thecageshadbeenunlocked!TheParkKeeperwassureofit.“No,no.TheycamedownwithCastorandPollux.”Janewavedherhandat

the twoboys,as shepluckeda sprayofSoloman’sSealand tucked it intoherlooped-upskirt.

“CastorandPollux!Getalong!They’recharactersinastory.Lily-whiteboysturnedintostars.Tamedhorses,that’swhattheydid.IreaditwhenIwasaboy.”

“AndwecamedownwithOrion,”saidtheboys,speakingasthoughwithasinglevoice.“Wecametogetfreshherbsforourhorse,andhetopickcherriesintheLane.HealwaysdoesonMidsummer’sEve.”

“Oh, does he indeed?”The Park Keeper smiled a withering smile. “Justdescends,like,outofthesky,tostealwhatbelongstotheCountyCouncil!Whatdoyoutakemefor,then–anAprilFoolinthemiddleofJune?Orion’supthere,likehealwaysis.”Heflungupapointingfinger.

“Where?”demandedthebigman.“Showme!”The Park Keeper craned his head backwards, but all he could see was

emptiness,alarge,vacant,unansweringsky,blueasthebloomonaplum.“Well,you’llhavetowait.It’snotdarkenoughyet.Buthe’llbethere,don’t

youworry–uptherewherehebelongs.”MrsCorryletoutacackleoflaughter.“Who’sworrying?”sheshrieked.“You’reright,”saidthebigmanwithasigh,ashesatdownonamarbleseat

and laid his club beside him. “Orion will be where he belongs. He can’t dootherwise,poorchap.”He tookacherry fromthehoard inhishand,ate itandspatoutthestone.“Butnotyet–ah,no,notyet.There’sstillalittletime.”

“Well, you’d better get off where you belong – a circus tent, I wouldn’twonder,withallthatfolderolfancydress.Andyou!”theParkKeeperwavedattheboys.“Tight-ropewalkersorI’maDutchman!”

“You’reaDutchmanthen!We’reGallopers!”Theboysburstintoapealoflaughter.

“One thing or the other, itmakes no difference. Leave the leaves and I’llburnthemtomorrow.Wedon’twantnoragamuffinshere.”

“They’renotragamuffins!Oh,can’tyousee?”Janewasalmostintears.“ButwhatwillPegasusdo?”criedMichael,angrilystampinghisfoot.“They

wantedamealofColtsfootforhim.SoIgatheredit.Idon’twantitburnt!”Hehuggedtheherb-fillingstringbagtohim,determinedtodefytheBye-laws.

“Pegasus!”scoffedtheParkKeeper.“He’sanotherofthemtaradiddles.Youlearn about them when you’re at school. Astronomy for Boys and Girls.Constellations,cometsandsuch.Butwhoeversawahorsewithwings?He’sjustabunchofstars,that’sall.AndVulpecula,andUrsaMinorandLepus–allthatlot.”

“What important names.” The two boys giggled. “We call themFoxy andBearandHare.”

“Callthemanythingyoulike.Justgetoutofhere,thethreeofyou.AndtakeyourcircusbeastsalongorI’llgototheZooandfindtheKeeperandhavethemputbehindbars.”

“Ifagooseberrybushmaymakea remark?”MaryPoppinsbroke in.“Youdidsaygooseberrybush,Ibelieve?”shesaidwithicypoliteness.

TheParkKeeperquailedbeforeherglance.“Itwasjusta-akindofmannerofspeaking.Andgooseberrybushisnolibel,

it’s justa sortof–er–spikyshrub.Andanyway,put it inanutshell–”Whyshouldn’thespeakhismind,hethought.“Itisn’tasthoughyou’retheQueenofSheba.”

Thebigmansprangfromthemarbleseat.“Whosaysshe’snot?”hedemandedsternly,and the lion-skinstiffenedon

hisshoulder,theheadshowingitsfangs.TheParkKeeperhurriedlytookastepbackwards.“Well, no one can say she is, can they? What with turned-up nose and

turned-outfeetandaknobofhairand—”“What’swrongwiththem?”Thebigmanglowered,reachingfortheclubat

his side and looming over the Park Keeper, who hurriedly took another stepbackwards.

Majestically,apinkandwhitestatue,MaryPoppinsinsertedherselfbetweenthem.“Ifyou’relookingfortheKeeperoftheZoologicalGardens,heisnotintheZoo.HeisintheLake.”

“In the Lake?” The Park Keeper stared at her aghast. “D-drownded?” hewhispered,paleasalily.Oh,alas,alas!”

“Paddling.With theLordMayorandtwoAldermen.Fishingfor tiddlers toputinajam-jar.”

“J-jam-jar?TheLordMayor?Oh,no!Oh,no!Not tiddlers. It’sagainst theB-bye-laws. Isn’t anyone Observing the Rules?” the Park Keeper cried indespair.

The world, as he knew it, had fallen apart. Where now was the lawfulauthority that he had always served?Towhomcouldhe turn for reassurance?ThePoliceman?No,hewasoffwithEllen.TheLordMayor–oh,horrors!–wasintheLake.ThePrimeMinisterwasclosetedwiththeKing.Andhehimself,thePark’s Park Keeper, important though he undoubtedly was, must carry theburdenalone.

“Why should it all depend on me?” He flung his arms wide with thequestion.“Allright,Itookoffabitoftime,whichisowedme,afterall.Anditwasn’tmuchtoask,”helamented.“OnlytofindmyownTrueLove–”

“CurlyLocks, I suppose, orRapunzel?”MrsCorry chuckled. “You’ll findthey’re suited, I’m afraid. But I’ve got a couple of soncy girls – Fannie andAnnie,takeyourpick–andI’llthrowinapoundoftea!”

TheParkKeeperputthesuggestionasideasbeingbeneathhisnotice.“To findmyTrueLove,”he repeated. “AndallLitterplaced in theproper

baskets.NoStealingofHerbs fromhere, norCherries from theLane.Noonepretending tobewhat they’renot.”Hewavedat the intruders. “AndeveryonekeepingtheBye-laws.”

“Ifyouaskme,that’salottoask.”Thebigmanlookedathimsternly.“TrueLovesdon’tgrowontrees,youknow.”

“Orgooseberrybushes,”MaryPoppinsputin.“Andwhatarecherries forbuteating?Herbs too, if it comes to that.”The

bigmanswallowedanothercherry,andspatoutanotherstone.“But you can’t just pick them because youwant them!” The ParkKeeper

wasscandalised.“Why else?” enquired the big man mildly. “If we didn’t want them, we

wouldn’ttakethem.”“Because you’ve got to think of others. “The Park Keeper, who seldom

thoughtofothershimself,wasquicktodeliverhissermon.“That’swhywehavetheBye-laws,see!”

“Well,wearetheothers,allofus.Andsoareyou,myman.”“Me!”TheParkKeeperwasindignant.“I’mnotsomebodyelse,notme!”“Ofcourseyouare.Everyone’ssomebodyelsetosomeone.Andwhatharm

havethewildbeastsdone?Afewgreenleavesonedayintheyear!It’struethatthey’re not used to Bye-laws.We don’t have them up there, thank goodness.“Thebigmannoddedatthesky.

“Andasforpretendingtobewhatwe’renot–orwhatyoupresumetothinkwe’renot–howaboutyourself?Makingall this fuss andpother,meddling inthingsthatdon’tconcernyou–isn’titratherpresumptuous?You’rebehavingasthoughyouownedtheplace.WhynotlookafteryourownaffairsandleavethePark to the Park Keeper? He seems a sensible sort of chap. I always enjoylookingdownathim–mowingthe lawns,puttingwastepaper intocontainers,faithfullygoingabouthisjob.”

TheParkKeeperstared.“Butit’smyjobhe’sgoingabout.ImeanthatI’mgoingaboutit.Don’tyou

see?He’sme!”“Who’syou?”“Him.Imeanme.I’mtheParkKeeper.”“Nonsense! I’ve seen him often enough.A decent young fellow, neat and

natty.WearsapeakedcapwithP.K.onit,notasillylittleblueflanneltop-knot.”TheParkKeeperclappedhishandtohishead.ThePrimeMinister’scap!He

hadquiteforgotten.Perhapsheshouldneverhavewornit.“Lookhere,”hesaid,withthefearfulcalmofonewhoisnearhiswits’end.

“I’m the sameman, aren’t I, whatever my cap?” Surely it was obvious. Hadcircuspeoplenobrainsatall?

“Well,areyou?Onlyyoucangiveananswer to that.Andit’snotaneasyquestion.Iwonder...”Thebigmanwassuddenlythoughtful.“Iwonder,wouldIbethesamepersonwithoutmybeltandlion-skin?”

“Andyourclub.Andyourfaithfuldog-star.Don’tforgetSirius,Orion!’Thetwo boys laughed and teased him. “Sirius can’t come down with us,” theyexplainedtoJaneandMichael.“He’dbechasingallthecatsintheLane.”

“Yes,yes, the fellowhasapoint.Even so,” thebigmanwenton, “I can’tbelieve the Keeper I know, that watchful, conscientious servant, would gowalkingbackwardsthroughthePark,eyesclosed,handsoutstretched,andbitsofcrustbehindhisears.Andontopof that–withouta‘Byyourleave’or‘Ibeg

your pardon’ – go bumping into an elegant lady as though shewere a lamp-post.”

TheParkKeeper put his hands to his ears. Itwas true.Theywere deckedwithscrapsofsandwich!

“Well,”heblustered,“howwasItoknowshewasthere?Anditwasn’tthebreadthatwasimportant.WhatIwantedwascucumber.”

“AproperParkKeeperdoesn’tgoaboutbumping.Andheknowshowtogetjustwhathewants.Ifcucumber,thenwhybread?Youshouldbemoreprecise.”

“Iknowwhat Iwant,” saidavoice from thehedge. “A littleof somethingsweet.”

“Haveafinger!”MrsCorryshrieked,asshebrokeoffonefromherlefthandandofferedittotheBear.“Don’tworry,itwillgrowagain!”

His small eyes widened with surprise. “Barley sugar!” he exclaimed withdelight,andstuffeditintohismouth.

“Nothingfornothing!”saidMrsCorry.“Putashineonmycoatforluck!”The Bear put his paw upon her collar. “It’ll shine, when it’s time – just

wait!”hesaid.“WhatIwant isapairofgloves. I’mgoing toaparty tonightandI like to

lookwell-dressed. “TheFox prinked and pranced beside the Foxgloves, as hetriedonflowerafterflower.

“Parsley!”saidtheHarefromtheParsleypatch.“Forhis rheumatism,” thebigmanexplained.“It’softencoldup thereand

draughty.AndParsley’sgoodforit.”“Coo-roo,coo-roo,”thegreatBirdcroonedashemunchedhisFennel.

“IdoLikeaherbOrtwo,Don’tyou?”

TheParkKeeper’seyes,aslargeassoupplates,swivelledinalldirections.Had he seen?Had he heard?A finger turned into Barley Sugar?Animals

speaking in human voices? No, of course he hadn’t! Yes, he had! Was it adream?Hadhegonemad?

“It’s thecucumber!”hecriedwildly.“Ishouldn’thavedoneit.Notbehindtheears.Shesaiditwouldbewitchy.Anditis!Butwhetherit’sworthit,I’mnotsure.MaybeI’mnottheParkKeeper.MaybeIamsomebodyelse.Everything’s

headoverheelstonight.Idon’tknownothing,notanymore.”And snatching the cricket cap from his head, he flung himself, sobbing,

acrossthelawnandburiedhisfaceinhismother’sskirt.Shesmoothedhisruffledhairwithherhand.“Don’ttakeonsovainly,Fred.

It’llcomeright–you’llsee.”Thebigmanregardedhimbroodingly.“AsprigofHeartseaseorLemonbalm–eitherofthemwouldbesoothing.

Probablyneedsarestfromhimself,whoeverheis,poorchap!IevengettiredofbeingOrion.”Hesighedandshookhishead.

“Wedon’tneedarestfromourselves,dowe?”CastorandPolluxexchangedagrin.

“Ah, that’s because you’ve got each other. But it’s often lonely, away upthere.”

“Inevergettiredofbeingmyself.IlikebeingMichaelBanks,”saidMichael.“AndsodoesMaryPoppins.Imean,shelikesbeingMaryPoppins.Don’tyou,MaryPoppins?”

“Who else would I want to be, pray?” She gave him one of her haughtylooks.Theveryideawasabsurd.

“Ah, well, but you’re the Great Exception.We can’t all be like you, canwe?”Oriongaveherasidelongglanceandpickedoutanotherpairofcherries.“That’sforyourotherear,mydear.”

“I’ve no complaints,” the Bear bumbled. “I like showing sailors the wayhome.”

“I’mgoingtobeasailor,”saidMichael.“AuntFlossiesentmethissuitformybirthday.”

“Well,you’llneedthestarinmytailtoguideyou.Iamalwaysthere.”“NotifIhaveMaryPoppins’compass.Icangorightroundtheworldwith

that.Andshecanstayhereandlookaftermychildren.”“Thankyou,MichaelBanks,I’msure.IfI’venothingbettertodothanthat,”

shegavealoud,affrontedsniff,“I’llbesorryformyself.”“Cometotheparty,that’ssomethingbetter–meinmybeautifulfoxgloves

andyouinyournewpinkdress.”TheFoxdancedonhishindlegsandhelduphisfoxglovedpaws.“ThehandsomeMrVulpecula,arminarmwithMissMaryPoppins!”

“Handsome is as handsomedoes.”MaryPoppins,with a toss of her head,tossedasidetheinvitation.

“There’spoisoninFoxgloves,”saidMichaelglibly.“MaryPoppinsneverlet

uswearthemincasewehappentolickourfingersandthenhavetogotobed,andbesick.”

“Foxes do not lick their paws, nothing so vulgar,” said the Fox. “Theymerelywashthemintheeveningdew.”

“Parsley,” said a voice from the Parsley patch, with a coughing, chokingsound.

Orionsprangfromhismarbleseat.“Becareful,Lepus,don’teatit!Spititout,whateveritis!Ah,that’sbetter.

There’s a good Hare!” He fossicked among the curling fronds and held up ashiny circular object. “A half-crown piece, by all that’s lucky!And he nearlyswallowedit.”

Thefourchildrenclusteredaboutit,gazinggreedilyatthecoin.“Whatwillyouspenditon?”Janeasked.“HowcouldIspendit?There’snothingtobuy.Therearenoicecreamcarts

in thesky,nopepperminthorses,noballoons,noteven. . .”heglancedatMrsCorry,“notevenagingerbreadstar.”

“Well,what isup there?Nothingbutnothing?”Michael foundthathard tobelieve.

“Just space.”Orionshruggedhis shoulders.“Thoughyoucan’texactlysayspaceisnothing.”

“And there’s lots of room,” said Castor and Pollux. “Pegasus gallopseverywhereandwetakeitinturnstoridehim.”

Michaelfeltatwingeofenvy.Hewishedhecouldrideahorsethroughthesky.

“Room?Whowantsroom?”Oriongrumbled.“Downhereyouhavenoroomatall.Everything’sclosetosomethingelse.Housesleaningagainsteachother.Trees and bushes crowding together. Pennies and halfpennies clinking inpockets.Friendsandneighboursalwaysathand.Someonetotalkto,someonetolisten.Ah,well,”hesighed,“eachtohisfate.”

Hetossedthesilvercoinintheair.“Tailsup,andyoutwocanhaveit.”HenoddedatJaneandMichael.“Heads,

andIkeepitmyself.”Down came the coin on his outstretched palm. “Heads it is. Hooray!” he

cried.“IfIcan’tspendit,atleastIcanwearit.Ilikeabitofbric-a-brac.”Hepressedthehalf-crownagainsthisbeltinlinewiththethreestudsalready

there.“Howdoesitlook?Tooflimsy?Toovulgar?”“Oh,it’slovely!”allfourchildrenexclaimed.

“Neatenough,”saidMaryPoppins.“You’llneedtokeepitpolished.”“Gingerbreadish,I’dsay,”giggledMrsCorry.“Asouvenir torememberus

by.”“Souvenir!”Oriongrowled.“AsifIneededreminding.”“He’sright.Hedoesn’t,”saidCastorandPollux.“Hepinesall theyearfor

Midsummer’s Eve – this is our one night of magic – and the Park and thecherriesandthemusic.”

“Don’tyouhavemusicupthere?”askedJane.“Well,” saidOrion, “themorning stars sing together, of course. Same old

plainsongday inanddayout.Butnoneofyourcheerful,homely things.PollyWollyDoodle, Skip tomyLou,PopGoes theWhat-you-call-it – all that stuff.Listen!They’resingingdownbytheLake.Don’ttellme,I’llgetitinaminute.Ah,yes–GreenGrowtheRushes-O.”Hehummedalineofthesong.

“Hecan’tsingintune,”thetwoboyswhispered.“Buthedoesn’tknowitandwedon’ttellhim.”

“Andthenthere’sthemusicofthespheres,asortofsteady,droningsound.RatherlikethatspinningthingIsawyouwithtoday.”

“Myhummingtop!I’llgetit,”saidJane.Sherantotheperambulatorthatwaslikeanover-crowdedbird’snest,with

JohnandBarbaraandAnnabelasleeponeachother’sshoulders.Janethrustinherhandandrummagedamongthem.“It’snothere.Oh,I’velostmytop!”“No,youhaven’t,”saidagloomyvoice,asathinmanandafatwomancame

handinhandintotheGarden.“ItfelloutontotheLongWalkandwefounditaswecameby.”

“It’sMrandMrsTurvy!”criedMichael,ashedashedawaytogreetthem.“Well,itmaybeanditmaynot.Youcan’tbecertainofanything.Nottoday,

youcan’t.Youthinkyou’rethisandyoufindyou’rethat.Youwanttohurry,soyoucrawllikeasnail.”Thethinmangaveadolefulsigh.

“Oh, Cousin Arthur,” Mary Poppins protested. “It’s not your SecondMonday,notoneofyourupside-downdays!”

“I’mafraiditis,Mary,mydear.Andtonightofallnights,whenIwanttogolookingformyownTrueLove,justlikeeveryoneelse.”

“Butyou’vealreadyfoundher,Arthur!”MrsTurvyremindedhim.“So you say, Topsy. And I’d like to believe it. But nothing’s sure on the

SecondMonday.”“You’llbesuretomorrow.Tomorrow’sTuesday.”

“Andwhatiftomorrownevercomes?Itwouldbejustlikeittostayaway.”MrTurvywasunconvinced. “Well, here’syour topandmuchgoodmay it doyou.”Heturnedaside,wipinganeye,asJanesetthecolouredtoponthepath.

“Notyet,notyet!”Orioncried,suddenlycuppinghishandtohisear.Fromsomewhereamongthesurroundingtreesabirdgaveaquickenquiring

chirpthatwasfollowedbyarushofhalf-notes,notsomuchsongasaseriesofkisses.

“Anightingaletuningup.Oh,glory!”Orion’sfacewasalightwithjoy.“ItbelongstoMrTwigley,”saidMichael.“It’stheonlyoneinthePark.”“Somepeopledohavealltheluck.Toownanightingale!Thinkofit!Come

on,comeon,mylovelyboy!Spinyouroldhummingtop,Jane!He’lloutsingit,besure.”

The four children fell on the shining toy, shouldering each other aside,arguingandcomplaining.

“I’llstartit!No,youwon’t,it’smine!Me!Me!Me!”theyallshouted.“IsthisaHerbGardenoraBearPit?”demandedMaryPoppins.“CertainlynotaBearPit.Bearsarebetterbehaved,”saidtheBear.“But,MaryPoppins,it’snotfair!”CastorandPolluxprotested.“Wehaven’t

gotatopupthere.Theymightgiveusachance.”“Well, we haven’t got a flying horse!” Jane and Michael were equally

indignant.Mary Poppins folded her arms and favoured them allwith her fierce blue

glance.“Hooligans,thelotofyou!”shesaid.“Youhaven’tgotthisandyouhaven’t

gotthat.Topsorhorses–takewhatyou’regiven.Nobodyhaseverything.”And in spite, or perhaps because of her fierceness that embraced them all

equally,theirangermeltedaway.CastorandPollux satbackon theirheels. “Notevenyou,MaryPoppins?”

theyteasedher.“Withyournewpinkdressandyourdaisyhat?”“Andyourcarpetbag!Andyourparrotumbrella!”JaneandMichaeljoined

in.She preened a little at the compliment as she gave her characteristic sniff.

“That’sasmaybe,”sheretorted.“Andnoaffairofyourseither.Iwillstartthetopmyself!”

Shestoopedtoseizethehandle,andpumpeditbrisklyupanddown.Slowly,thetopbegantoturnandasitturned,ithummed–faintlyatfirstbut

gradually,asitgatheredspeed,thesoundbecameonelongdeepnote,fillingthe

HerbGardenwithitsmusic,abee-likehumminganddrumming.“A ring! Make a ring!” cried Castor and Pollux. “The Grand Chain,

everyone!”Andatoncetheyallcameintoacircle,formallymovingroundthetopasthe

earthmovesroundthesun.Righthandtorighthand,lefthandtoleft–theBearwithhissugar-stickinhismouth,theFoxdapperinhisFoxgloves,theHarenib-nibblingasprigofParsley.

Roundandround.Handtohand.MaryPoppinsandthetwoBankschildren,MrsCorry,herdaughtersandtheBirdWoman,MrTurvydragginghisfeet,MrsTurvydancing.

Roundand round.Hand tohand.Oriongirtwithhis lion-skin,Polluxwithhis tunicfullofherbs,andMichael’sstringbag,burstingwithColtsfoot,slungaboutCastor’sneck.

Roundandround,eachhandtakingthehandofeach,andthebigBirdflyingamongthem.Thetopspunandthecirclespunroundit,andtheParkroundthecircle,theearthroundtheParkandthedarkeningskyroundtheearth.

TheNightingale,nowthenightwascome,cametothefullofhissong.Jug,jug,jug,tereu!itwent,overandover,fromtheeldertree,outsingingthehumofthetop.Thesongwouldneverbedone,itseemed,andthetopwouldneverstopspinning.Thecircleofhumansandconstellationswouldgoonturningforever.

Butsuddenlythebirdwassilentandthetop,withalastmusicalcry,sloweddownandtoppledsideways.

Clang!Thetinshapecrashedupontheflagstones.AndtheParkKeepersatupwithastart.Herubbedhiseyesasthoughwakingfromsleep.Wherewashe?Whathad

been happening? He had hidden himself from the fading day and all itsunbearableproblems.Andnowthedayhaddisappeared.Ithadpassedthroughitslongbluetwilighthourandhadalmostbecomethenight.

But thatwas not all. TheHerbGarden he knew sowellwas now anothergarden.There,inaring,werepeopleheknew,thefamiliarsolidandsubstantialshapesofMaryPoppinsandhercharges,MrsCorryandhertwolargedaughters,his Mother in her shabby shawl. But who were the others, the bevy oftransparentfigures,thecreaturesthatseemedtobemadeoflight–insubstantialluminous boys hand in hand with substantial children; a man in a lion-skin,bright as the sun, bending towards Mary Poppins; a Bear and a Hare, bothshimmering,abigBirdliftingwingsoflightandasparklingFoxwithflowersonhispaws?

And suddenly, like amanwhohas lost, and regained, his senses, theParkKeeperunderstood.Hehadknownthosefigureswhenhewasaboy,andmanymore besides.And he had forgottenwhat he had known, denied it,made it athingofnaught,somethingtobesneeredat!Heputhishandsuptohiseyestohidethespringingtears.

MaryPoppinsstoopedandpickedupthetop.“It’s time,” she said quietly. “The day is gone. You are needed now

elsewhere. Castor, put your wreath on straight. And you, Pollux, fasten yourcollar.Rememberwhoyouare!”

“Andwho you are,MaryPoppins!” they teased her. “With your ‘spit-spotand away you go!’As if we could ever forget!” They gathered their loads ofgreenstufftothem.

“Tillnextyear,JaneandMichael,”theycried.“We’llbecomingtogetmoreColtsfoot!”

Theyflungupshininghandsastheyspokeandthen,liketheday,theyweregone.

“Andanotherpairofgloves!”saidtheFox.“MoreBarleySugar!”theBearbumbled.“Parsley!”TheonewordcamefromtheHare.Andtheytoodisappeared.

“Coo-roo-coo-roo,Thisisforyou!”

ThegreatBirdswoopedtoMaryPoppins,stuckawingfeatherintoherhatandthenbecameairandstarlight.

MaryPoppinsstraightenedtheglowingfeatherandglancedupatOrion.“Donotlinger!”shewarnedhim.

“Lingerlonger,Lucy,Lingerlonger,Lou,HowIlongtolingerlonger,Tolingerlongayou.”

Orionsangtunelessly,andgaveheraruefulglance.“Don’tworry,I’llbewhereIbelong,justasthatfellowsaid.“But–toleave

allthis–”Heflungouthisarms,asiftoembracethewholewidthofthePark.“Oh,well–theLaw’stheLaw!Butit’snoeasythingtoobeyit.”Hegobbledup

hisremainingcherries,spatoutthestonesonthechamomilelawn,andtookherhandandkissedit.

“Faretheewell,myfairyfay,”hesaidgruffly.Andthen,likeacandleflameblownout,hewastherenolonger.

“Nextyear!”criedJaneandMichaelshrilly,totheemptinesshehadleft.AndatthattheParkKeeperleapttohisfeet.“No,now!”hecried.“Theycanhavethemnow–alltheywant,andmore.”In a frenzy he dashed from bed to bed, plucking green branches of every

kindandtossingthemintotheair.“Take them! I’ll let theBye-lawsbe!Rosemary forRemembrance,mister.

All the fodder you need, lads, for the horse! Foxgloves for the Foxy! SweetsavoursforthebeastsandtheBird.”

Heflungtheherbswildly towards thesky.Andto thesurpriseofJaneandMichael, not a leaf, not a branch, came down – except a small spray ofsomethingthatMaryPoppinscaughtinherhandandtuckedintoherbelt.

“Forgiveme,friends!Ididn’treckerniseyou!”theParkKeepercalledtothenothingness.“AndIdidn’treckernisemeself,neither.IforgotwhatIknewwhenIwasaboy. Itneeded thedark toshowthingsplain.But Iknowwhoyouarenow,allofyou.AndIknowwhoIam,Orion,sir!Cucumberornocucumber,I’mtheParkKeeperwithorwithoutmyhat!”

Andoffhedartedamongtheherbs,gathering,bellowingtheirnames,tossingthemintotheair.

“St John’sWort!Marigold!Coriander!Cornflower!Dandelion!Marjoram!Rue!”

“Really, Smith, you should bemore careful!Youmight have knockedmyeyeout.”

MrBanks,enteringtheHerbGarden,removedasprigofMarjoramfromthebrimofhisbowlerhat.“AndofcourseyouaretheParkKeeper!Whoeversaidyouweren’t?”

The Park Keeper took no notice. On he went, madly tossing and yelling.“GoodKingHenry!Rampion!Sage!SweetCicely!Rocket!Basil!”

Upintotheairwentleavesandflowersandnoneofthemcamedown.MrBanksstaredafterhim.“What’shedoing,throwingherbsaround?AParkKeeperbreakingtheBye-

laws!Thepoorchapmusthavelosthiswits.”“Orfoundthem!”saidtheBirdWomansoftly.“Aha! So this is where you are!”Mr Banks turned and raised his hat. “I

missed you as I came by St Paul’s. Your birds weremaking an awful to-do.Don’ttheyeverstopeating?Andnoonewastheretotakemytuppence,sonow,ofcourse,they’restarving.Well,whatareallofyoudoinghere?”

Heheldouthisarmstothechildren.“AMidsummerpicnic,Ipresume.Youmighthaveleftmeasausageroll.”Hepickedupadiscardedpieceofpastryandmunchedithungrily.

“AreyoulookingforyourownTrueLove?”Janeasked,hugginghim.“Of course not. I know where she is. I’m on my way to her now, as it

happens.And how are you,MaryPoppins?” he asked, glancing at the uprightfigure as it rocked the perambulator. “You’re looking very sprightly tonight,withasprayofforget-me-notinyourbeltandyourcherryearringsandSunday-besthat.Thatfeathermusthavecostaprettypenny!”

“Thank you, I’m sure.” She tossed her head, and smiled her self-satisfiedsmile.Complimentswerenomore thanherdueandshealwaysaccepted themcalmly.

He gave her a thoughtful, puzzled glance. “You never get older, MaryPoppins,doyou?What’sthesecret?Tellme!”heteasedher.

“Ah,that’sbecauseshe’seatenFernseed!“TheBirdWomaneyedhimslyly.“Fernseed?Nonsense!AnOldWives’Tale.‘EatFernseedandyou’ll live

forever’, they toldmewhenIwasaboy.AndIused tocomeand lookfor it,hereinthisverygarden.”

“I can’t imagine you as a boy.” Jane measured her height against hiswaistcoatbutton.

“I don’t seewhynot.”MrBankswas hurt. “Iwas a very charmingboy–aboutashighasyouarenow–inbrownvelveteenandawhitecollarandblackstockingandbutton-upboots.‘Fernseed,fernseed,whereareyou?’I’dsay.Butof course I never found it. I’mnot even sure that it exists.”MrBanks lookedsceptical.

“And,whatwasworse,Ilostsomething–thefirsthalf-crownIeverhad.Oh,thedreamsIdreamedofthathalf-crown.Iwasgoingtobuytheworldwithit.Butitmusthavedroppedoutofaholeinmypocket.”

“That must be the one Orion found. He took it away with him,” saidMichael.“Justbeforeyoucame.”

“O’Ryan?A friendofSmith’s, I suppose!Those Irish fellowshaveall theluck.He’sprobablyspent itbynow, thewretch!If Ihad turnedupearlier, I’dhave made him give it back. I can’t afford to lose pennies, let alone half-crowns.”

MaryPoppinsregardedhimsagely.“Allthat’slostissomewhere,”shetoldhim.

MrBanksstaredather.Foramomentheseemedquitemystifiedandthen,ofasudden,hisfacecleared.Heflungbackhisheadandlaughed.

“Ofcourse!Whydidn’t I thinkof that?Itcouldn’t falloutof theuniverse,couldit?Everythinghastobesomewhere.Evenso,”hesighed,“itwouldhavebeen useful. Well, no good crying over spilt milk. I must get on. I’m latealready.”

Ahen-likescreechrenttheair.“Youalwayswere!”avoicecackled.“Lateinthemorning. Late at night. You’ll be late for your funeral, if you don’t lookout!”

Mr Banks, startled, peered through the dusk and saw, half-hidden by theelder-tree,alittleoldwomaninablackcoatthatwascoveredwith–coulditbe?– threepenny bits! And beside her two large, formless shapes that might, ormightnot,beyoungerladies.

Itwastrue.Hehadtoadmitit.Hewasinthehabitofnotbeingontime.Buthowdidthisoldpersonknowit?Andwhatrighthadshe,acompletestranger,tomeddleinhisaffairs?

“Well,”hebegandefensively,“I’mabusyman,I’dhaveyouknow.Makingmoneytokeepmyfamily;oftenworkinglateattheoffice–it’shardtowakeupinthemorning—”

“Early to bed, early to rise,makes amanhealthy andwealthy andwise. IsaidthattoEthelredtheUnready.But,ofcourse,hewouldn’tlisten.”

“EthelredtheUnready!”MrBankswasastonished.“Buthewasaroundtenhundredandsomething!”She’sdotty,poorthing,hethoughttohimself,Imusthumourher.“AndwhataboutAlfredtheGreat?”heasked.“Washeafriendofyourstoo?”

“Ha!HewasworsethanEthelred.Promisedtowatchmycakes,hedid.‘Noneed tomove them’ I said tohim. ‘Justkeep the firegoing–andwatch!’Andwhatdidhedo?Piledupthelogsandthenforgot.Justsatthere,broodingoverhiskingdom,whilemygingerbreadstarswerecookedtoacrisp.”

“Gingerbreadstars!”Whatevernext?Really,MrBankstoldhimself,MaryPoppinscertainlyhadagiftformakingpeculiarfriends!

“Well, never mind,” he said soothingly. “You’ve still got the real stars,haven’tyou?Theycan’tgetcookedormovefromtheirplaces.”

Heignoredherscreamofmockinglaughterasheglancedupatthesky.“Ah,there’sthefirstone!Wishonit,children.Andanother!They’recoming

thickandfast.GoodLord, theyaresobright tonight!”Hisvoicewassoftwithrapture.

“Star light, star bright,” hemurmured. “It’s as though theywere having aparty up there. Polaris! Sirius! TheHeavenlyTwins!Andwhere is – ah, yes,thereheis!Icanalwaystellhimbyhisbeltwithitsthreegreatstarsinarow.GreatHeavens!”He gave a start of surprise. “There are four in a row, ormyeyesight’s failing. Jane! Michael! Can you see it? An extra star beside theothers?”

Theireyes followedhispointingfinger.And,sureenough, faintandsmall,therewasasomething–not,perhaps,tobeclaimedasastar–andyet,andyet,asomething!

Theyblinkedatit,half-afraidtobelievebut,evenso,half-believing.“IthinkIseeit,”theybothwhispered.Theydidnotdaretobesure.MrBanksthrewhishatintotheair.Hewasbesidehimselfwithjoy.“A new star! Clap your hands, world! And I, George Banks, of Number

Seventeen,CherryTreeLane,havebeenthefirsttospotit.Butletmebecalm,yes,calm’stheword–letmebecool,composedandplacid.”

But,farfrombeinganyofthese,hewasfeverishwithexcitement.“Imustgoatonce to theAdmiral andask for theuseofhis telescope.Verify it.Tell theAstronomer Royal. You’ll find your way, won’t you, Mary Poppins? This isimportant, you understand. Goodnight, Mrs Smith!” He bowed to the BirdWoman.“Andgoodnighttoyou,madam–erhum—”

“Corry,”saidMrsCorry,grinning.MrBanks,alreadystreakingaway,stoppeddeadinhistracks.Whenhadheheardthatnamebefore?Hestaredattheodditybeforehimand

turned,forsomereason,toMaryPoppins.The two women were regarding him gravely, silent and motionless as

picturedfiguresinabook,lookingoutfromthepage.Suddenly, Mr Banks was flooded with a sense of being somewhere else.

And,also,ofbeingsomeoneelsewhowas,atthesametime,himself.White-collared and velvet-suited, he was standing on tiptoe in button-up

boots,hisnosejustreachingaglass-toppedcounter,overwhichhewashandingto someone he could hardly see, a precious threepenny bit. The place smeltrichlyof gingerbread; an ancientwomanwas slyly asking, “Whatwill youdowiththegoldpaper?”andavoicethatseemedtobehisownwassaying,“Ikeepthemundermypillow.”

“Sensible boy,” the old creature croaked, exchanging a nodwith someone

behindhim,someonewearingastrawhatwithaflowerortwospringingfromit.“George,whereareyou?”Anotherandyoungervoicecriedhisname.“George!George!”Andthespellwasbroken.Withastart,MrBanksreturnedtotheHerbGardenandallfamiliarthings.It

hadbeennothing,hetoldhimself,amoment’smadness,aslipofthemind.“Impossible!”Helaughednervously,ashemetMaryPoppins’glance.“Allthingsarepossible,”shesaidprimly.Hiseyebrowswentup.Wasshemockinghim?“Eventheimpossible?”heasked,mockingherinreturn.“Eventhat,”sheassuredhim.“George!”Thecallingvoiceheldanoteofpanic.“I’m here,” he answered. “Safe and sound!” He turned away from the

moonstruckmoment,thetrance,thedream,whateveritwas.“After all,” he thought, “it’s Midsummer’s Eve. One expects to be

bewitched.”“Oh,George,”criedMrsBanks,wringingherhands,“thechildrenareoffon

asupperpicnic.AndIcan’tfindthem.I’mafraidtheyarelost!”He strode towards the fluttering shape thatwas crossing the lawn towards

him.“Howcould theybe lost?They’rewithMaryPoppins.Wecan trusther to

bringthemhome.Foryou’recomingwithme,myTrueLove.Wonderfulnews!Guess what it is! I think I’ve discovered a new star and I want to look at itthroughaspy-glass.If it’s true,I’llbemadeStar-Gazer-in-ChiefandyoushallbeQueenoftheMay.”

“Don’tbesilly,George,”shegiggled.“Youandyourstars!You’realwaysmaking fun ofme.” But she didn’tmind him being silly and she liked beingcalledhisTrueLove.

“Admiral!Admiral!Wait for us!Wewant to look through your tel-es-co-pe!”

Mr Banks’ voice, a fading echo, came floating back to the Herb Garden.And,atthesamemoment,thechorusofsingersbytheLakecametotheendoftheirsong.

“Two,twoarethelily-whiteboys,A-clothedallingreen-oOneisoneandallalone

Andevermoreshallbeso!”

“Evermore,” theBirdWomanmurmured,glancingupat the sky. “Well, Imustbegettingalong.I’veadishofIrishstewonthehobandhe’llbehungrywhenhegetshome.”

Shenoddedin thedirectionof theParkKeeperwhowasstill tossingtwigsandbranchesandcryingtheirnamestotheair.

“GoodKingHenry!Mistletoe!Lovage!Allyouwant,Sirandlads!”Andnoneofthemcamedown.“Come,Arthur,”saidMrsTurvy.“It’stimeweweregoinghome.”“If we have a home,” grumbledMr Turvy, still very down in the dumps.

“Whataboutfiresandearthquakes,Topsy?Anythingcouldhavehappened.”“Nothinghashappened to it–you’ll see.Come to teaonThursday,Mary.

Things will be better then.” Mrs Turvy led her husband away, guiding himthroughtheshadows.

“Wait forme,Mrs Smith,my dear!”MrsCorry gave her bird-like shriek.Thethreepennybitsonhercoatwerea-twinkleandthespotonhercollarwherethe Bear had touched it now shone like a glowing button. “I have to get mybeauty sleeporwhatwillPrinceCharming say– tee-hee?”Shegrinnedathertwolargedaughters.

“Stiryourstumps,FannieandAnnie,”shesaid.“Comehomeandstuffsomeherbsunderyourpillows–SowbreadandCuckoo’sMeatmightdothetrick!–andperhapsI’llgetyouoffmyhands.Handsomehusbandsandtenthousandayear.Shakealeg,yougalumphinggiraffes!Pullupyoursocks!Skedaddle!”

Shemadeacurtsey toMaryPoppinswhoreceived itwithagraciousbow.Then away she went, prancing in her elastic boots between her ploddingdaughters, with the BirdWoman sailing along beside them, like a full-riggedship,onthegrass.

TheHerbGarden,solatelyfulloflightandmovement,wasstillnow,apoolofdarkness.

“Jane, take your top,” said Mary Poppins. “It is time we too were goinghome.” And the many-coloured tin planet that hummed and spun soharmoniouslywasstowedawaywiththepicnicthings,silentandmotionless,asJaneswungthebasketfromherhand.

Michaellookedroundforhisstringbagandsuddenlyremembered.“I’venothingtocarry,MaryPoppins,”hecomplained.“Carryyourself,”shetoldhimbriskly,assheturnedtotheperambulatorand

gaveitavigorouspush.“Stepalong,please,andbestfootforward.”“Whichisthebestfoot,MaryPoppins?”“Theonethat’sinfront,ofcourse!”“Butit’ssometimestheleftandsometimestheright.Theycan’tbothbethe

best,”heprotested.“Michael Banks!” She gave him one of her savage looks. “If you are

determined toargle-bargle,youcanstayhereanddo itallbyyourself.Wearegoinghome.”

Hedid, indeed,want toargle-bargleand, ifhecould,get thebetterofher.Butheknewthatshealwayswonintheend.And,anyway,itwouldbenofuntoarguewiththeemptyairsinceitcouldnotanswerback.

Hedecidedhewouldcarryhimself.Buthowdidonedothat,hewondered.Hecoulddoitmoreeasily,hethought,withsomethinginhishand.Soheseizedon thehandleof theperambulatorand, tohissurprise,becameaboywhowascarryinghimself.

Jane came to the other side so that,withMary Poppins between, all threewerepushingtogether.Theyweresuddenlygladtofeelhernearnessinthewideunfamiliardarkness.

For this was no longer their daytime Park, their intimate ordinaryplayground. They had never before been up so late nor understood that nightchangestheworldandmakestheknownunknown.Thetrees that,bydaylight,weremerelytrees–somethingtoshadeyoufromthesunorswingonwhentheParkKeeperwasnotlooking–werenowstrangebeingswithalifeoftheirown,fullofsecretsneverdisclosed,holdingtheirbreathtillyouwentpast.

Camellias, Rhododendrons, Lilacs, that by day were clustering shapes ofgreen, were now nameless creatures full of menace, lying in wait, ready tospring.

Thenightitselfwasawholenewcountry,unmappedandunexplored,wheretheonlythingthatcouldnotbedoubtedwasthesteadymovingshapebetweenthem; fleshandboneunder its cottondress, thewell-wornhandbagandparrotumbrella aswing from the crookof its arm.They felt it rather than saw it, fortheydarednotlifttheireyes.Norcouldtheybesure,inthiscrowdingdarkness,ofthebrightnesstheyhadseen.Orhadtheyreallyseenitatall?Mighttheynothavedreamedit?

Totherightofthemabushmoved.Itmutteredandmumbledtoitself.Wasitabouttopounce?

Theyhuddledclosertothecottondress.

“It must be somewhere,” the bush was saying. “I had to take it off, Iremember,inordertofindtheletter.”

Withaneffort thechildren lifted theirheadsandnervouslypeered throughthedark.Theyhadcome, theysaw, to theRoseGarden.Andthebush,edgingforward as if to spring, became, bymagic, aman.Ceremoniously clad, in tophat,blackjacketandstripedtrousers,hewascrawlingaboutonhandsandknees,clearlylookingforsomething.

“I’velostmycricketcap,”hetoldthem.“Here,bythefountainorundertheroses.Idon’tsupposeanyofyouhaveseenit?”

“It’sintheHerbGarden,”saidMaryPoppins.ThePrimeMinistersatbackonhisheels.“IntheHerbGarden!Butthat’sat

theotherendof thePark!Howevercouldithavegot there?Cricketcapscan’tfly.Ormaybe...”Heglancedarounduneasily.“Maybetheycanonanightlikethis.Strangethingshappen,youknow,onMidsummer’sEve.”Hescrambledtohisfeet.

“Well,I’vejustgottime,”helookedathiswatch,“tofetchitandgettothePalace.”He doffed his hat toMaryPoppins, stumbled away into the darknessandbumpedintoaclumpofbushesthatwasstealthilymovingtowardshim.

“Really!”ThePrimeMinisterutteredtheexclamationashehurriedlyjumpedaside.“Youshouldn’tgocreepingaboutlikethat–asthoughyouweretrackingtigersorsomething.Itgavemequiteastart.”

“Hssssst!”hissedabush.“Where’stheParkKeeper?”“My dear fellow, how should I know? I don’t keep Park Keepers in my

pocket.Nothing’sinitsrightplacetonight.Hecouldbeanywhere.Whydoyouwanthim?”

The clump shuffled a little nearer and became the Lord Mayor and twoAldermen. Their robes were looped up round their waists and their bare legsshonewhitelyinthedark.

“That’s just it. I don’t want him. We need to get safely out of the Parkwithouthimgettinghiseyesonthese.”TheLordMayordrewbackafoldofhiscloakandrevealedalargeglassjam-jar.

“Tiddlers!You’llcatchitifhefindsyou.TheLordMayorbreakinghisownBye-laws! Ask that lady over there.” The Prime Minister nodded at MaryPoppins. “She told me where to find my cap. And I must be off to get it.Goodnight!”

TheLordMayorturned.“Whyit’syou,MissPoppins.Howfortunate!”Heglancedaroundwarilyandtiptoedoverthegrass.

“Iwonder,”hewhisperedintoherear,“ifbyanychanceyou’vecomeacross—”

“TheParkKeeper?”MaryPoppinsenquired.“Sh!Notsoloud.Hemighthearyou.”“No,hewon’t.”ShefavouredhimwithaSphinx-likelook.“He’sfarawayat

theendofthePark.”Gooseberrybushornogooseberrybush, shewasnotgoing todisclose the

factthattheParkKeeper,ifonlyfortonight,waslettingBye-lawsbe.“Splendid!”TheLordMayorbeckoned theAldermen tohim.“Wecannip

offhomealongtheLaneandhelpourselves...”hewinkedatthem,“toacherryortwoaswego!”

“I think youwill find they have all been picked,”MaryPoppins informedthem.

“What–all?”The threewere scandalised. “Vandalism!Wemust speak tothe King. What can the world be coming to?” They spoke to each other inoutragedwhispersastheyscurriedoffwiththejam-jar.

Theperambulatorcreakedonitsway.Tall,ghostlyshapesloomedupbeforeit and turned into swings as it came nearer. A thick black shadowwent pastsneezing and then revealed itself as Ellen who, wrapped in the Policeman’sjacket,wasbeingescortedhome.Anothermovedoutfromamongthetreesandwasseen tobea solidmasscomprisingMissLarkand theProfessor,with thetwodogshuddlingagainstthem,asthoughanxiousnottobeseen.

“Goodnight, all!” chirrupedMissLark, as she spied the little group. “Andwhat a good night!” Shewaved at the sky. “Did you ever see such a sparkle,Professor?”

TheProfessor tiltedbackhishead.“Dearme!someoneseemstobesettingofffireworks.CanthisbetheFifthofNovember?”

“Goodnight,”calledJaneandMichaelshrilly,andlooked,forthefirsttime,upwards.Theyhadbeensointentonthedarknessaroundthemandthechangesthenighthadwroughtintheearth,thattheyhadforgottenthesky.Buttheblazeabove them, of stars that bent so bright and near – the party evidently in fullswing – that too was the work of the night. True, the night had created thefrighteningshapesbutthen,asthoughtomakeamends,hadchangedthemintofamiliarfigures.Andwhatbutthenightwasbringingthem,witheachturnoftheperambulator’swheel,eachbestfoot–leftorright–thrustforward,totheplacefromwhichtheyhadstarted?

Aheadofthem,beyondthelineofcherrytrees,lightsbegantoappear–not

sobrightastheonesabovebut,forallthat,brightenough.Itseemedasthougheach house in the Lane, leaning so closely to the next, had lit itself from itsneighbour.Therewere constellations both below and above, the earth and theskywerenextdoortoeachother.

“Now, no more day-dreaming, Professor.We want our supper. So do thedogs.”MissLarkseized thearmofher friend,whowas raptlygazing into thedarkness.

“MydearMissWren,Iamnotday-dreaming.Iamlookingatafallenstar.See!Overthere,onthatlady’shat.”HesweptthenewspaperfromhisheadandbowedtoMaryPoppins.

MissLarkputonherlorgnette.“Nonsense, Professor! Falling stars just fizzle out. They never reach the

earth.That’s just a commonpigeon feather – coveredwith luminous paint, orsomething.Magiciansusethingslikethatfortheirtricks.”

AndshewhiskedhimthroughtheLaneGate.“Is that you, Professor?” calledMr Banks, racing full tilt along the Lane,

withMrsBanksathisheels.TheProfessorlookeduncertain.“Isupposeitis.Peopletellmeso.I’mnever

quitesuremyself.”“Well,I’vegloriousnews.I’vefoundanewstar!”“Youmeantheoneonthathat?I’veseenit.”“No,no!OntheBelt,mydearchap.Uptillnowithashadjustthree–atrio

ofshinersinarow.But,tonight,I’vedistinctlyseenafourth.”“MissPartridgesaysit’sjustluminouspaint.”“Paint?Absurd!Youcan’tputpaintonthesky,man!It’sthere,aslargeas

life – and solid. I’ve verified it. So has Admiral Boom. We’ve looked at itthroughhistelescope.Andwho’sMissPartridge,anyway?”

“Lark!”saidMissLark.“Doremember,Professor!”“No,no,it’snotjustalark!Hemeansit.He’sseenitthroughatelescopeand

telescopesdon’tlie.”“Ofcourse theydon’t.They reveal facts.So,we’reoff to thePlanetarium.

Thenewsmustbespreadabroad.”“But,George,thechildren!”MrsBanksbrokein.“Don’tworry.They’reall right, I tellyou.PutonahatandI’llchangemy

tie.”MrBankswas pantingwith excitement. “Perhaps they’ll call it afterme.Imagineit!Fameatlast!AheavenlybodybythenameofBanks!”

Andthehappyastronomerdashedaway,draggingMrsBanksbythehand,to

thedoorofhisownhouse.“WhyBanks,Iwonder?IalwaysthoughthisnamewasCooper.AndIcould

haveswornitwashat,notbelt.Butmymemoryisnotwhatitwas–if,indeed,itwas ever what it was.” Vague and perplexed, yet still hopeful, the Professorlookedroundforhisfallenstar.

ButMissLarkwashavingnomorenonsense.Shetookherfriendfirmlybythearmandhurriedhimofftosupper.

TheProfessor,however,neednothaveworried.Hismemorywaswhatithadbeen.Hisfallenstar,evennow,wasmakingitswaytowardstheLaneGate.Thefeather glowed among the daisies and its light was reflected in the pairs ofcherriesthathungbelowthehatbrim.

JaneandMichaellookedupatitandthenfromthefeathertothesky.Halfdazzledbytheresplendentlight,theysearchedfor,andfound,whattheysought.Ah,there!Theyneedednotelescopetotellthem.

Amongthecelestialornaments,Orion’sBeltgleamedonitsunseenwearer–threelargestarsinaslantingline,andbesidethem,small,modest,butbrightasaglow-worm,afourthpieceofbric-a-brac!

Neitherthefeathernortheextrastarhadbeentherewhentheysetout.Theiradventurehad,indeed,beentrue.Atlasttheycouldnotbelieveit.And,meetingMary Poppins’ eyes, they knew that she knew what they knew. All things,indeed,werepossible–sky-lightuponanearthyhat-brim,earth-lightonaskyeygirdle.

They craned their necks as they straggled beside her, and gazed at theconflagration.Howwasthepartygoing,theywondered.Wassomeonestruttingin his new-found sparkle; another boasting of his elegant mittens; the otherdisplayingtheirtreasure-trove?Andwasthereanyoneuptheretoremindthem,with a toss of the head, that handsomewas as handsomedid?No!Therewasonlyonesuchpersonandshewaswalkingbetweenthem.

Behindthem,MrTwigley’sbirdburstintosongagain.BeforethemlaytheLaneGate.Andastheperambulatorcreakedtowardsittheycouldseeanecklaceof shining windows beyond the cherry trees. The front door of NumberSeventeen,leftopenbytheirexcitedparents,threwalonglightdownthegardenpath,asiftowelcomethem.

“MaryPoppins,” said Jane, as theypushed theirwayon the last lapof theday’sexcursion.“Whatwillyoudowithyourearrings?”

“Eat them,” saidMaryPoppins promptly. “Alongwith a cupof strong teaandasliceofbutteredtoast.”Whatelsewerecherriesfor,afterall?

“Andwhataboutmystringbag?”Michaelhuggedhersleeve.“Kindlydonotswingonmyarm.Iamnotagardengate,Michael!”“But where is it? Tell me!” he demanded. Was Pegasus, even now, he

wondered,munchingamealofColtsfoot?Hershoulderswentupwiththeircharacteristicshrug.“String bags – pooh! – they’re two a penny. Lose one and you can get

another.”“Ah!Butperhapsit’snotlost!”Hegaveheradarting,sidelongglance.“And

neitherwillyoube,MaryPoppins,whenyouskedaddleoff.”Shedrewherselfup,insulted.“I’llthankyou,MichaelBanks,tomindyourmanners.Iamnotinthehabit

ofskedaddling.”“Oh,yes,youare,MaryPoppins,”saidJane.“Onedayhereandthenextday

gone,withoutaWordofWarning.”“But she’s not nowhere, even so. And neither is my string bag,” said

Michael.“Butwhere?Where,MaryPoppins?”Everyplace,surely,hadaname!“Howshallweknowhowtofindyou?”

Theyheldtheirbreaths,waitingforananswer.Shelookedatthemforalongtimeandherblueeyessparkledwithit.Theycouldseeitdanceontohertongue,allagogtomakeitsdisclosure.Andthen–itdancedaway.Whateverthesecretwas,shewouldkeepit.

“Ah!”shesaid.Andsmiled.“Ah!Ah!Ah!Ah!”repeatedtheNightingalefromitsbranch.Andabove,fromeveryquarterofthesky,therecameanechoing“Ah!”The

wholeworldwasringingwiththeriddle.Butnothing,andnobody,answeredit.Theymighthaveknown!Shewouldnottellthem.Ifshehadneverexplained

before,whyshouldshedosonow?Instead,shegavethemherhaughtyglance.“Iknowwhereyoutwowillbeinaminute.Andthat’sintobed,spit-spot!”Theylaughed.Theoldphrasemadethemfeelwarmandsecure.Andevenif

there was no answer, there had been a reply. Earth and sky, like neighbourschattingoverafence,hadexchangedtheonesameword.Nothingwasfar.Allwasnear.Andbed,theynowrealised,wasexactlywheretheywantedtobe,thesafestplaceintheworld.

ThenMichaelmadeadiscovery.“Well, bed’s somewhere!” he exclaimed, surprised at his own cleverness.

Plain, ordinary bed was Somewhere. He had never thought of that before!

Everythinghadtobesomewhere.“And so will you be, Mary Poppins, with your carpet-bag and parrot

umbrella,sniffingandbeingimportant!”Hegaveheramischievous,questioningglance,daringhertodenyit.“Andwell-brought-upandrespectabletoo!”Janeaddedherteasingtohis.“Impudence!”Sheswungherhandbagatthem,andmissed.Foralreadytheyweredartingawaytowhatwaswaitingforthem.Wherevershewas,shewouldnotbelost.Thatwasanswerenough.“Somewhere!Somewhere!Somewhere!”theycried.And, leaving the dark Park behind, they ran, laughing, across the Lane,

throughthegateandupthepathandintothelightedhouse...

A.M.G.D.

THEHERBSINTHESTORYandtheirbotanical,localandLatinnames

SOUTHERNWOOD Oldman,Lad’sloveArtemisiaabrotanumLAVENDER LavandulaveraMONEYWORT CreepingJenny,Herbtwopence LysimachianummulariaSWEETBASIL OcimumbasilicumDANDELION Densleonis,Swine’ssnoutTaraxacumofficinaleCHAMOMILE AnthemisnobilisHONEYSUCKLE WoodbindLoniceracaprifoliumFOXGLOVE Folk’sglove,FairythimblesDigitalispurpureaPARSLEY PetroselinumcrispumFENNEL FoeniculumvulgareSOLOMON’SSEAL Lady’ssealsPolygonatummultiflorumCOLTSFOOT Ass’sfoot,CoughwortTussilagofarfaraGOOSEBERRY Feverberry,GoosegogsRibesgrossulariaRAMPION CampanularapunculusCUCUMBER CowcumberCucumissativusHEARTSEASE Loveinidleness,HerbconstancyViolatricolorLEMONBALM HerblivelongMelissaofficinalisELDER Pipetree,BlackelderSambucusnigraROSEMARY Polarplant,Compass-weedRosmarinusofficinalisFORGET-ME-NOT MyosotissymphytifoliaSTJOHN’SWORT AllhealHypericumperforatumMARIGOLD Ruddes,MaryGowles,OculisChristi CalendulaofficinalisCORIANDER CoriandrumsativumCORNFLOWER Bluebow,Bluebottle,HurtsickleCentaureacyanisMARJORAM KnottedMargeryOriganummajoranaRUE Herbofgrace,HerbygrassRutagraveolensGOODKINGHENRY Goosefoot,FathenChenopodiumBonusHenricusSWEETCICELY Chervil,SweetfernMyrrhisodorataROCKET Dame’sviolet,VesperflowerHesperismatronalisBRACKEN Brakefern,FemalefernPterisaquilana

MISTLETOE Birdlimemistletoe,HerbedelaCroixViscumalbumLOVAGE LevisticumofficinaleCYCLAMEN SowbreadCyclamenhederaefoliumSORREL Cuckoo’smeat,SoursudsRumexacetosa

ToBruno

CRACK!WENTTHE teacupagainst thebowlof soapsuds.MrsBrill,washing thechina,scrabbledamongthesparklingbubblesandfisheditupintwopieces.

“Ahwell,”shesaid,asshetried,andfailed,tofitthemtogether.“It’sneededsomewhere else, I suppose.”And she flung the two halves, with their twinedrosesandforget-me-nots,intothedustbin.

“Where?”demandedMichael.“Wherewillitbeneeded?”Whowouldneedabrokencup?hewondered.Itseemedasillyidea.

“HowshouldIknow?”fussedMrsBrill.“It’sanoldsaying,that’sall.Now,yougetalongwithyourbitofwork,andsityourselfdownwhileyoudo it sothatnothingelsegetsbroken.”

Michaelsettledhimselfonthefloorandtookthedishesasshehandedthemtohim,dryingthemwiththetea-towelandsighingashedidso.

Ellenhadoneofherdreadfulcolds,RobertsonAywasasleepon the lawnandMrsBankswastakinganafternoonrestonthesofainthedrawing-room.

“Asusual,”MrsBrillhadcomplained,“noonetogivemeahelpinghand.”“Michaelwill,”MaryPoppinshadsaid,seizingatea-towelandthrustingitat

him. “And the rest ofuswill go shoppingandbringhome thegroceries.Thatwillhelp.”

“Whyme?”Michael had grumbled, kicking a chair leg. Hewould like tohavekickedMaryPoppinsbutthathewouldneverhavedared.Forfetchingthegroceries was a special treat because, whenever the bill was paid, the grocergaveeachofthem–evenMaryPoppins–atastyliquoricestick.

“Well,whynotyou?”saidMaryPoppins,givinghimoneofherfiercebluelooks.“Janediditlasttime.AndsomebodyhastohelpMrsBrill.”

Heknew therewasnoanswer to that. Ifhementioned liquorice,hewouldonly get a short, sharp sniff. And anyway, even the King, he supposed, hadsometimestodryadishortwo.

Sohekickedanotherlegofthechair,watchingMaryPoppinsas,withJanecarryingastringbagandtheTwinsandAnnabelhuddledintotheperambulator,shewentawaydownthegardenpath.

“Don’tpolishthem.Wehaven’ttimeforthat.Justdrythemandputtheminapile,”MrsBrilladvisedhim.

Sotherehesatbytheheaped-updishes,forcedintodoingakindlyactandnotfeelingkindatall.

And after a time – it seemed like years toMichael – they all came back,laughingandshoutingand,sureenough,suckingliquoricesticks.Janegavehimone,hotfromherhand.

“Thegrocersentitspeciallytoyou.Andsomebody’slostthetinofcocoa.”“Somebody?”MaryPoppinssaidtartly.“You,Jane,werecarryingthebag!

Whoelsecouldthatsomebodybe?”“Well, perhaps it just dropped out in the Park. I could go and look for it,

MaryPoppins.”“Notnow.What’sdoneisdone.Somebodyloses,somebodyfinds.Besides,

it’stimefortea.”Andshegatheredthelittleonesoutoftheperambulatorandhurriedthemall

upthestairsbeforeher.InnotimetheyweresittingroundtheNurserytablewaitingforhotbuttered

toastandcake.Exceptfortheliquoricesticks,everythingwasthesameasusual.MaryPoppins’parrot-headedumbrella,herhat,whichtodayhadapinkroseinit,herglovesandherhandbagwereneatlyintheirplaces.Thechildrenwereallneatlyintheirs.AndMaryPoppinswasgoingaboutherafternoon’sworklikeaneatandorderlywhirlwind.

“It’sjustlikeanyotherday,”saidNumberSeventeentoitself,asitlistenedtothefamiliarsoundsandfeltthefamiliarmovements.

ButNumberSeventeenwaswrong,foratthatmomentthedoorbellrangandMrsBrill came bustling into the drawing-roomwith a yellow envelope in herhand.

“Telegram!” she announced excitedly toMrsBanks. “YourAunt Flossie’sbrokenherleg,maybe,oritcouldbesomethingworse.Idon’ttrusttelegrams.”

MrsBanks took itwitha tremblinghand.Shedidn’t trust telegramseither.Theyalwaysseemedtobringbadnews.

Sheturnedtheenvelopeoverandover.“Well,aren’tyougoingtoopenit?”MrsBrillwaseagertoknowtheworst.“Oh,Idon’tthinkIwill,”saidMrsBanks.“I’dratherwaituntilmyhusband

comeshome. It isaddressed tohim,anyway.See– ‘GeorgeBanks,SeventeenCherryTreeLane’.”

“Well, if it’s urgent, you’ll be sorry youwaited.A telegram is everyone’sbusiness.”

Mrs Brill reluctantly left the room. She would have enjoyed hearing badnews.

MrsBankseyed theyellowenvelope, as it stood thereon themantelpiece,leaningagainstaphotographandcoollykeepingitssecret.

“Perhaps,”shesaidhopefullytoherself,“it’sgoodnews,afterall.MrsBrilldoesn’tknoweverything.”

But shecouldn’thelpwishing that thismightbeoneof thedayswhenMrBankscamehomeearly.

And,asithappened,itwas.HehadgotoffthebusattheendoftheLaneandwassaunteringhomepast

NumberTwenty-one–AdmiralBoom’shousethatwasbuilt likeaship–pastTwenty with its honeysuckle hedge, past Nineteen with the fish pond in thegarden,untilhecametoNumberEighteen.

Andtherehestopped,fullofsurprise,andnotaltogetherpleased.Aroundthegate his neighbourswere gathered, all talking earnestly together.TheAdmiraland Mrs Boom, Mr Twenty and Mrs Nineteen and Miss Lark from NumberSixteen.Therewasnothingoddinthis,ofcourse,agatheringoffriends.

Butwhat stoppedMrBanks inhis trackswas the sight of a red-and-whitestripedtent,thekindthatisputoveropendrainsandotherholesintheroad.Andbesideitstoodabrawnyworkmandeepinconversationwiththelittlegroupofneighbours.

“Ah,thereyouare,Banks,shipahoy!”TheAdmiral’sloudvoicehailedhim.“You’rejusttheonetofindoutwhatthisfellowthinkshe’sdoing.”

“I don’t think, I know,” said the workmanmildly. “I’m looking over thisherehousetoseewhatrepairsitneeds.”

“But it’s empty,” Mr Banks said quickly. “It’s been empty for years andyears.”

“Well, itwon’tbeempty for long,”said theman.“There’s tenantscoming

in.”“Butthat’simpossible.”MrBankswasdistressed.“Wealllikeitjustasitis.

Everystreetshouldhaveitsdesertedhouse.”“Whatfor?”“Well,” beganMrBanks, a trifle uneasily, “so that people can fill it with

theirownideas,thekindofneighbourstheywouldliketohave.Wedon’twantjustanyone,youknow.”

Therewas amurmur of assent from them all as they thought of the long-emptyroomsoftheirdearNumberEighteen.

For theAdmiral theywere inhabitedbya sea captainwhohad sailedwithNelsonandwasreadyatanymoment,nomatterwhattheweather,toheaveuptheanchorandputtosea.

MrsBoom saw it as the homeof a little girlwith straight brownhair, thekindofchildshewouldliketohavehad,whowanderedaboutit,softasamoth,humminggentlytoherself.

MrTwenty,whosewifewouldneverplaychesswithhim,hadfriendstherewho were human chessmen – black and white kings and queens, bishopsmarchingfromcornertocorner,knightsridingupanddownthestairs.

MrsNineteen,whowas rather romantic, believed that in the empty houselived the grandmother she had never seen, telling wonderful bedtime stories,knittingprettygarmentsforherandalwayswearingsilverslippers,eveninthemorning.

ForMissLark,fromNumberSixteen–thegrandestdwellingintheLane–itwasthehomeofanotherdogexactlylikeAndrew,anaristocraticlittledogwhowouldneverchoose,asAndrewhaddone,avulgarfriendlikeWilloughby.

AsforMrBanks,helikedtothinkthatintheatticofNumberEighteen,livedanoldwisemanwithaveryspecialtelescopewhich,whenyoulookedthroughitsroundglasseye,couldshowyouwhattheuniversewasupto.

“Anyway,” he said to the workman, “it’s probably not fit to live in afterbeingemptyforsolong.Haveyouexaminedthedrains?”

“Alloftheminperfectcondition.”“Well,thechimneys.Fullofstarlings’nests,I’llbebound.”“Cleanasawhistle,”saidtheman.“Whataboutthefurniture?Micemakingtunnelsinthebeds.Cockroachesin

thekitchen.”“Notamouse,Nota’roach.”“Andthedust.Itmustbeeverywhere,inchesthick.”

“Whoevercomesintothishouse,”saidtheman,“won’tevenneedaduster.Everything’sasgoodasnew.Andanyway,”hebegantodismantlehisred-and-whitetent,“housesareforhumanbeings,notharum-scarumfancies.”

“Well, if itmustbe, itmustbe,”sighedMissLark.“Come,Andrew,comeWilloughby,wewillgohome.”Andshewalkedawaydejectedly,thetwodogsatherheelslookingequallydepressed.

“Youshouldhavegonetosea,”saidtheAdmiral,lookingferociouslyattheworkman.

“Why?”“Asailorwouldstayonthedeckofhisshipandnotcomemakingtroublefor

thosewholiveontheland.”“Can’tbearthesea,itmakesmeseasick.Andanyway,it’snofaultofmine.I

havemeorders,‘tobecarriedoutforthwith’,Iwastold.Thetenantsarecomingintomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!”everyoneexclaimed.Thiswasterrible.“Letusgohome,”coaxedMrsBoom.“Binnacleismakingcurryforsupper.

You’lllikethat,won’tyou,dear?”BinnaclewasaretiredpiratewhodailykepteverythingshipshapeinAdmiral

Boom’sshipshapedhouse.“Well,heaveuptheanchorandsailaway,shipmates.There’snothingelseto

do.”The Admiral took Mrs Boom’s arm and slouched off along the Lane,

followedbyMrsNineteenandMrTwenty,bothlookingforlorn.“Aqueerlotyouare,Imustsay.”Theworkmangathereduptentandtools.

“Allthisto-dooveranemptyhouse!”“Youdon’tunderstand,”saidMrBanks.“Forus,it’snotempty,farfromit.”

Andheturnedtowardshishome.AcrosstheLane,hecouldheartheParkKeeperdoinghisrounds.“Observe

the Rules. Remember the Bye-laws. “The starling on the top of NumberSeventeen’schimneywasgivinghisusualstarlingshriek.LaughterandshoutingcamefromtheNurserymingledwiththecommentsofMaryPoppins.Hecouldhear Ellen’s endless sneezing, the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, the sleepysnoresofRobertsonAy–allthefamiliarsoundsofhome,everythingthesameasusual,comfortable,intimate.

Butnow,hethought,everythingwouldbedifferent.“Ihavenewsforyou,”hesaidglumly,asMrsBanksmethimatthedoor.“And I have news for you,” she said. “There’s a telegram on the

mantelpiece.”He took the yellow envelope, ripped it open, read the message and was

suddenlyverystill.“Well, don’t just stand there, George! Say something! Has anything

happenedtoAuntFlossie?”MrsBankswasanxious.“ItisnotAuntFlossie.AuntFlossiedoesn’tsendtelegrams.Iwillreaditto

you:

“ComingtoliveatNumberEighteen.Arriving4.30tomorrow.BringingLuti.Nohelprequired.”

MrBankspausedforamoment.“Itissigned,”hesaid,“EuphemiaAndrew.”MrsBanksgavealittleshriek.“MissAndrew!Oh,Ican’tbelieveit.OurdearNumberEighteen!”ForMrs

Banks toohada friend in thehouse,a ladyverymuch likeherselfwho,whenMrsBrilltooklongdaysofftoseehercousin’sniece’sbabyorEllenhadoneofherfearfulcoldsorRobertsonAyfellasleepintherosebed,wouldthrowupherarms when she heard the news and say, “Oh, how dreadful! How will youmanage?”

This Mrs Banks found a great comfort. Now she must face her troublesalone.

“AndLuti!”shecried.“Whocouldthatbe?”“Probablynotwhobutwhat.Oneofhermedicines,perhaps.”MrBankssatdownonachairandputhisheadinhishands.MissAndrewhadbeenhisgovernesswhenhewasalittleboy,aladywho,though

strong as a camel, tookmedicines by the dozen; a lady so strict, so stern, soforbidding that everyone knew her as the Holy Terror. And now, she, of allpeople, was coming to live next door to him in a house that was full of hisdreams.

Helookedatthetelegram.“Nohelprequired.Well,that’sablessing.Iwon’thave to light a fire in her bedroom as I did that time she came to stay anddisappearedsosuddenlyandwentofftotheSouthSeas.”

“Iwishshehadstayedthere,”saidMrsBanks.“Butcome,dear,wemusttellthechildren.”

“IwishIwereintheSouthSeasmyself.Anywherebuthere.”“Now,George,don’tbegloomy!”

“Why not? If aman can’t be gloomy in his own house, where can he begloomy,I’dliketoknow?”MrBankssighedheavilyashefollowedhiswifeupthe front stairs looking like a man whose familiar world has fallen in piecesaroundhim.

TheNurserywasinanuproar.Annabelwasbangingherspoononthetable,John and Barbara, the Twins, were trying to push each other off their chairs,JaneandMichaelwerewranglingoverthelastpieceoftoast.

“IsthisaNurseryoracagefulofmonkeys?”MaryPoppinswasaskinginhersternestvoice.

“Acagefulof. . .”Michaelwasabouttobedaringwhenthedoorsuddenlyopened.

“Wehavenewsforyouall,”saidMrsBanks.“Atelegramhascome.”“Whofrom?”demandedJane.“MissAndrew.YourememberMissAndrew?”“TheHolyTerror!”shoutedMichael.“Hush! We must always be polite. She is coming to live at Number

Eighteen.”“Oh,no!”protestedboth the children.For theydid indeed rememberMiss

Andrew,andhowshehadoncecometostayandhaddisappearedsostrangely.“But it’sours!” criedMichael. “NumberEighteenbelongs tous.Shecan’t

comeandlivethere!”Hewasalmostintears.“I’m afraid she can,” said Mrs Banks. “Tomorrow. Bringing someone or

something whose name is Luti. And,” she added coaxingly, “we must all bepoliteandkind,mustn’twe?MaryPoppins,you’llseethattheyareneatandtidyand ready to greet her,won’t you?”She turned timidly toMaryPoppinswhowasstandingasstillasadoorpost. Itwouldhavebeen impossible to tellwhatshewasthinking.

“Andwhen,” she said acidly, lookingashaughty as aduchess,”were theyanythingbutneatandtidy?”Theideawasquiteabsurd.

“Oh,never,never,”flutteredMrsBanks,feelingasshealwaysdidwithMaryPoppins as though she were a very small girl instead of the mother of fivechildren. “But you know how fussy Miss Andrew is! George!” She turnedanxiouslytoherhusband.“Don’tyouwanttosaysomething?”

“No,”saidMrBanksfiercely.“Idon’twanttosayanything.”AndMrsBanks,havingdeliveredtheunfortunatenews,tookherhusband’s

handandledhimaway.“ButI’vegotafriendwholivesthere,”saidMichael.“Gobbo,theclownwe

sawatthecircus,whomakeseverybodylaughandlookssosadhimself.”“IthinktheSleepingBeauty’sthere,lyingunderalacyquiltwithaspotof

bloodonherfinger.”Janetoohadherdreamsofthehouse.“Shecan’tbe,”Michaelprotested.“There’snowallofthornsaroundit.”“There’snettles.Theyare just asgood.MaryPoppins!” Jane turned to the

motionlessfigure.“WhodoyouthinklivesinNumberEighteen?”Mary Poppins sniffed. “Five, nice, quiet, well-behaved children – not like

somepeopleIcouldmention.”Herblueeyesweresternlybluebutintheirdepthswastheglintofatwinkle.“Well, if they’re so perfect they don’t need aMary Poppins. It’swewho

needyou,”Michaelteasedher.“Perhapsyou’llmakeusperfect.”“Humph,”sheretorted.“That’snotverylikely.”“Everyoneneedsher.”Janepattedherhand,hopingtoteaseherintoasmile.“Humph,”saidMaryPoppinsagain.Butthesmileappearedasshemether

reflectionintheglass.Ofcourse,eachseemedtobetellingtheother,everyoneneededMaryPoppins.Howcoulditbeotherwise?

Thenthetwomirroredfacesresumedtheirsternness.“Now,nomoreargle-bargling.Spit-spotandintobedwithyou!”And,foronce,withoutargle-bargling,theydidastheyweretold.Muchhadhappened.Theyneededtothinkitover,andweregladwhentheir

cheeksmet thesoftnessof theirpillows,gladof thecomfortingwarmthof theblankets.

MichaelwasthinkingofGobbo,JaneoftheSleepingBeauty.Theirshadowyshapes would disappear from Number Eighteen and the solid figure of MissAndrewwouldhauntthehouseinstead.

“Iwonder,”saidJanethoughtfully,“exactlywhataLutiis?”Shehadneverheardthewordbefore.

“Perhapsit’sananimal,”saidMichael.“Maybeakangaroo.”“Oramonkey–aLutimonkey.Iwouldlikethat,”saidJane.And they fell asleep dreaming of a kangaroo, or perhaps a monkey,

gambollinghappilyabouttheLaneamongtheCherryTrees.Butitwasneitherakangaroo,noramonkey,astheyweretolearnnextday.

ItwasSaturday.NumberEighteen lookednakedanda little lonelywithout itssurroundinghedgeofnettles.Aworkmanhadcomeintheearlyhours,cutthemdownandcartedthemoff.

TheBanks family spent anervousmorning, andas the afternoondrewon,

MrBanks,likeananxiousgeneral,marshalledhistroopsatthefrontgate.“Wemustbetheretogreether,”hesaid.“Onehastobepolite.”“Don’tkeepfussing,dear,”saidMrsBanks.“Perhapsshewon’tstaylong.”JaneandMichael lookedateachother rememberinghow,onher lastvisit,

MissAndrewhadcomeandgonesoquickly,andthecuriouspartMaryPoppinshadplayedinthatcuriousdeparture.

They glanced at her as she stood beside them, rocking the Twins andAnnabelintheperambulator,herfacerosyandserene.Whatwasshethinking?Theywouldneverknow.

“Theresheis!”criedMrBanks,asahansomcab,hungaboutwithGladstonebags, turned from the main road into the Lane. “She always travels withmountainsofluggage.Goodnessknowswhatisinit.”

They all watched, holding their breaths, as the cabhorse wearily cloppedalong, dragging its heavy load – pastMiss Lark’s house, past the little groupanxiouslywaitingoutsideNumberSeventeen.

“Whoa, there,” said the cabman, tugging at the reins, and the curiousconveyancecametoastopatthegateoftheemptyhouse.HeclambereddownfromhishighseatandremovedseveralGladstonebagsthathungfromtheroofofthecab.Thenheopenedthedoorandhauledoutalargeblackleathertrunk.

“Carefully,please,therearebreakablesinit,”criedahaughty,familiarvoicefromwithin.Ablack-bootedfootappearedonthestep, thenslowly,therestofMiss Andrew, a large, ungainly, cumbersome figure, lumbered out on to thepavement.

Sheglancedaround,andspiedthefamilygroup.“Well,George, Iamgladyouhavenot forgottenyourmanners. Iexpected

youtomeetme.”“Welcome,MissAndrew!”MrandMrsBankswererigidlypolite.“And the children seem clean and tidy enough. I hope their behaviour

matchestheirappearance.”MissAndrewcranedherheadandatthesightoftheneatblue-coatedfigure

standinginthebackground,sheshrankbacknervously.“I see,”he said,hervoice tremblingon thewords, “thatyou still have the

same young person taking charge of your household.Well, all I can say is, Ihopeshegivessatisfaction.”

“Shedoesindeed,”saidMrBanks,withabowtowardsthebluecoat.“Welcome,MissAndrew,”saidMaryPoppins,inavoiceJaneandMichael

had never heard – sweet, shy and unassuming.MissAndrew turned her head

awayandherglancesweptoverthegarden.“Really,George, you live in awilderness. Everything needs pruning.And

whatisthatheapofgarmentsdoinginthemiddleofthelawn.”“That,”MrBankssaid,“isRobertsonAy.Heistakingalittlerest.”“In theafternoon?Ridiculous! Ihopeyouwill takeverygoodcare thathe

neverrestsinmygarden.Here,”sheturned,fumblinginherbag,totheheavilybreathingcabman,“takethekeyandcarrymyluggageintothehouse.”

“Well,I’vejustgottoleverthisheretrunk.”Themanedgedachestthroughthedoorofthecab.“Andthenwecanletoutthelittlefeller.”

JaneandMichaellookedateachother.Littlefeller!Didhemeanamonkeyorakangaroo?

The chest fell with a thump to the pavement. It was followed by neitherkangaroo, nor monkey, but by a small, strangely dressed boy, a little taller,perhaps, than Jane, with a large black bag in his hand. As he bent under theweightofit,theycouldseearoundhoney-colouredfacewithblackhairfallinglooselyaboutitaboveastiffwhitecollar.

“Good Heavens!” said Mr Banks, in a whisper. “He’s wearing my oldclothes!Shemusthavekeptthemalltheseyears!”

The small figure, in knickerbockers, jacket and large brown boots steppeddelicatelydownthestepandstoodthere,hanginghishead.

“ThisisLuti,”pronouncedMissAndrew.“HisnamemeansSonoftheSun.HehascomewithmefromtheSouthSeaislandstogetagoodsolideducationandalsototakecareofme.Putdownthemedicinebag,Luti,andgreetournext-doorneighbours.”

Thebagwasputdown,thebentheadlifted.Andashebeheldthegroupatthegateasmilelitupthesunburntfaceastheboytookasteptowardsit.

“Peaceandblessings,”hesaidshyly,spreadingouthisarms.“Thatwilldo,”saidMissAndrewsharply.“Wedon’tusetheislandlanguage

here.Goodafternoonisenough.”“Andpeace andblessings toyou,Luti,”MrBanks cried heartily. “We are

veryglad towelcomeyou.There’sahole in the fence, just there,”hepointed.“Youcancomethroughitanytime.Mychildrenwillbedelightedtoseeyou–won’tyou,JaneandMichael?”

“Oh,yes!”saidJaneandMichaelraptly.Thiswasbetterthanakangarooormonkey.Itwasanewfriendtoplaywith.

“George!“MissAndrew’svoicewas like thesnapofawhip.“Praydonotmeddle inmyaffairs.Luti ishere towork,notplay.Hewillbebusywithhis

lessonsandmakingtheporridge–weshallliveonporridge,itisverynourishing–andgettingmymedicinesready.Iintendhimtobeacredittomesothatwhenheeventuallyreturnstotheislandhewillgoassomethinguseful–adoctororperhaps a teacher. In the meantime, we will continue our studies. And forrelaxation,onceamonth,heandItogether,George,willpayyoualittlevisit.Sogoandwakenyourman,please,andtellhimtorepairtheholeinthefence.Wewillhavenoto-ingsandfro-ingsbetweenus.Isalltheluggagesafelyin?”

Sheturnedtothebreathlesscabmanandgavehimacoinashenodded.“Then pick up the medicine bag, Luti. We will go and inspect our new

home.”She strode towardsNumber Eighteen and Luti, after a glance at Jane and

Michael–theycouldnottellifitweresadorhappy–shoulderedhisburdenandfollowedher,andthefrontdoorclosedbehindthem.

The children looked atMary Poppins.Her facewas the only cheerful oneamong them.But now her smilewasmysterious as though shewas sharing asecretwithherself.

“Wewillgointotea,”shesaidbriskly,givingtheperambulatorapush,“andthenperhapsagameofLudo.”

Jane andMichael enjoyed playing Ludo. But today it had no interest forthem.Theyhadsomethingelseontheirminds.Theyfollowedslowly,draggingtheirfeet,thinkingofthegoldenboywhohadappearedforabriefmomentandthenhadbeentakenaway.

“Thatpoorchild!”murmuredMrsBanks,lookingtearfullyatherhusband.“WellIsaidshewasaHolyTerror.”MrBankssigheddeeplyasheturnedto

thejumbledheaponthelawntowakenthesleepingfigure.And all the inhabitants of theLanewho had been leaning over their gates

watching,wentquietlyintotheirhouses.NumberEighteenwasnolongertheirs.Therewasnothingmoretobesaid.

TheLanewassilentexcept for thevoiceof theParkKeeper,“Observe theRules. Remember the Bye-laws.” And nearer at hand, the sleepy yawns ofRobertsonAyasheput anail to the loosepaling andgave it ablowwithhishammer.Thatdone,hesliddownontothegrassandwenttosleepagain.

Presently,thenailfellout,thepalinggaveasidewayslurch,andtheholeinthefencebetweenthehouseswasasithadalwaysbeen.

Earlynextmorning,whenthesunroseoverthetreesofthePark,theLanewaspeacefullyasleep,notevenabirdstirred.

Evenso,somethingstirred.JaneandMichael,onecarryingabananaandtheother an apple, were tiptoeing cautiously through the Nursery of NumberSeventeen, past the camp-bed where Mary Poppins lay sleeping, as neat anduncrumpled as though she and the bedwere objects in a shopwindow. Theysmiledtriumphantlyateachother–MaryPoppinswouldnotnoticethem!Butatthatmoment,sheopenedhereyesandherbluegazefelluponthem.

“Andwhatdoyoutwothinkyou’redoing?”Sheglancedatthefruitintheirhands.

Theyjumped.Shehadwoken,afterall.“Well, Mary Poppins,” Michael spluttered. “How would you like to eat

nothingbutporridge?”Heeyedheranxiously.“We thought,MaryPoppins,”Jane tried toexplain.“We thought ifweput

somefooddownbythefence,Luti–”shenoddedtowardsNumberEighteen,–“mightperhapscomeandfindit.”ShewasasanxiousasMichael.

Mary Poppins said nothing. She merely rose from her bed like a statue,leaving not a crease behind. Her hair hung in a plait down her back and hernightgownfellinneatfoldsaroundherasshestretchedoutherarmtowardsthedoor.

“Fetchmemyhandbag.It’shangingonthehandle.”Theyraneagerlytoobeyherandpresently,siftingthroughthepockets,she

tookoutofitabarofchocolateandsilentlyhelditout.Michaelmadearushatherandhuggedher round thewaist.Hecould feelherbonyshape inhisarmsandherplaitswungroundhisears.

“Don’thuggleandsqueezeme like that,MichaelBanks. IamnotaTeddyBear!”

“No,you’renot,”hecrieddelightedly.“You’rebetterthanaTeddyBear.”“Anyone can have a Teddy Bear. But we have you,Mary Poppins,” said

Jane.“Oh,indeed?”shesaidwithanuppishsniff,assheloosenedMichael’shold.

“Well, there’s having and having, I assure you! Now go downstairs quietly,please,youdon’twant todisturb thehousehold.”Andshepushed thembeforehertothedoorandcloseditsoftlybehindthem.

Sleep was all about them as they crept through the house, slid down thebanistersandtiptoedoutintothegarden.

NosoundcamefromNumberEighteenastheyplacedthefruitandthebarofchocolateonthecrossbarofthefence.

Andnosoundcamefromitallthemorningastheyplayedamongthetrees

and flowers until Mary Poppins called them to lunch. Even when they raceddown again, the banana, the apple and the chocolate were still in the sameposition.

But then, as they turned away from the hole in the fence, a strange noisecamefromthehousenextdoor–adeepandrhythmicrumblethatwentonandonandon.EveryoneintheLanecouldhearitandthehouseseemedtotremblewithit.

TheladyinNumberNineteen,whowasofanervousdisposition,wasafraiditmightbethebeginningofavolcano.MrTwentygaveitashisopinionthatitwasalionsnoring.

JaneandMichael,watchingfromthebranchesofthepear-treeintheirbackgarden,feltthatwhateveritwas,itmustsurelymeanthatsomethingwasgoingtohappen.

Anditdid.The front door of Number Eighteen opened and through it came a small

figure,cautiouslyglancingfromsidetoside.Slowly,hemadehiswayroundthehouse till he came to the hole in the fence, and then, seeing the fruit and thechocolate,hetouchedthemwithadelicatefinger.

“They’reforyou!”shoutedJane,hurriedlyscramblingdownfromherbranchwithMichaelatherheels.

Lutilookedup,abroadsmilemakinghisfacelikethesun,andhespreadouthisarmstowardsthem.

“Peaceandblessings!”heshylywhispered,cockinghisheadtooneside,ashelistenedtotherumble.

“Missandasleepsintheafternoonfromtwooftheclocktillthree.SoIcametoseewhattheseobjectswere.”

Itwasnotavolcanoafterall,notevenalion.TherumblingnoisewasMissAndrewsnoring.

“ThefruitisfromJaneandme,”Michaeltoldhim,“andthechocolatefromMaryPoppins.”

“Mary Poppins?” Luti murmured the name to himself as though he wererememberingsomethingthathehadlongforgotten.

“Thereshe is.”Michaelnodded towhereMaryPoppinsstoodby thepear-tree,rockingAnnabelintheperambulator.

“Peaceandblessingstoher,”saidLuti,wavinghishandattheuprightfigurewiththelargepinkroseinitshat.“IwillhidethesegiftswithinmypocketsandeatthematnightwhenIgotobed.Missandaeatsonlyporridge.”

“Is itanicebed?”Janeenquired.ShewantedtohearabouteverythingthathappenedinNumberEighteen.

“Well,perhapsitisalittlesoft.Onmyislandwedonotsleepinbedsbutonmatsthatmymotherweavesforusfromtheleavesofthecoconutpalm.”

“Youcouldlieonthefloor,”saidMichael.“Thatwouldbealmostasgood.”“No, I must do as Missanda wishes. I am here to be of comfort to her,

measurehermanymedicines,cooktheporridgewhenthefire ishotandstudymy seven-times-seven. That my parents promised her, for they think she is alearntpersonandwillsendmesomedaybacktotheislandwithknowledgeofmanythings.”

“Butaren’tyoulonely?”Janeaskedhim.“Andaren’ttheylonelyforyou?”Shewas thinkinghow sheherselfwould feel ifMissAndrew tookher far

awayandofhowherparentswouldgrieve.No,nosuchthingcouldeverhappen,notforalltheknowledgeintheworld.

Luti’sfacecrumpled.Thesmilefaded.“Iamlonelyforever,”hisvoicewashusky.“Butapromisehasbeenmade

toher.Iftheyhaveneedofme,theywillsend—”“Atelegram!”exclaimedMichael.“Inayellowenvelope.”Atelegramwas

alwaysexciting.“Ontheislandwehavenosuchthings.ButmyGrandmother,Keria,saidfor

my comfort, ‘When we have need of you, it will be known.’ She is aWiseWoman.Shereadsthestarsandunderstandswhattheseaissaying.But,harken!Ihearthebellssinging!”

Luti puthishand tohis ear as the churchclockbeyond thePark rangout.“One,Two,Three!”itsaid.AndatthesamemomenttherumblingfromNumberEighteenstopped,asthoughswitchedoff.

“Missandahaswokenfromhersleep.”Lutihurriedlygatheredupfruitandchocolateandstuffedthemintohispockets.

“Peaceandblessings!”Heraisedhishand,hisbrightglancetakinginMaryPoppinsaswellasJaneandMichael.

Then he turned and ran across the lawn, his feet inMr Banks’ big bootscrushingthegrassashewent.

AdooropenedandclosedbehindhimandNumberEighteen,suddenly,wasassoundlessasithadalwaysbeen.

Butthenextday,andallthedaysafterit,promptlyattwoo’clock,therumblingbeganagain.

“Preposterous!Nottobeborne!WemustcomplaintothePrimeMinister!”saidthepeopleintheLane.ButtheyknewthateventhePrimeMinistercouldnomore stop somebody snoring than he could say “Halt!” to a snowstorm.Theywouldjusthavetogrinandbearit.

Sothatwaswhattheydid.AndthegrinningandbearingmadethemrealisethatMissAndrew’s snoring had its fortunate side. For now, between two andthreeo’clock,theycouldmeetthesmilingbrown-facedstrangershehadbroughtfrom theother sideof theworld.Otherwise, theywouldneverhave seenhim,coopedupashewas,likeabirdinacage.

So, as well as the fruit that Jane and Michael put on the fence everyafternoon–MaryPoppinsalwaysinthebackground–Lutisoonfoundhimselfshoweredwithgifts.

MrsNineteengavehimapaperfan,suchasshewouldliketohavemadefortheGrandmothershehadneverknown.

MrTwenty,agruff,shyman,presentedhimwiththeKingandQueenofanoldchesssetfromhisattic.

Admiral Boom, in a voice that would have roused from sleep anyone butMissAndrew,hailedhimwith“Ahoythere,shipmate!”andpresseduponhimasix-inch-longcarvedcanoe,fadedandshinyfromspendingyearsinthedarkofatrouser pocket. “It’smymascot!” he explained. “Broughtme luck allmy life,eversinceIwasamidshipmansailingtheSouthSeas.”

Binnacle,theretiredpirate,gavehimadaggerwithabrokenpoint.“It’smesecond-best,” he apologised, “but it’ll slit a throat or two if you’reminded tobecomeapirate.”

Lutihadnodesiretobecomeapirate,farlesstoslitanyone’sthroat,buthetookthedaggerwithgratitudeandhiditcarefullyinsidehisjacketincaseMissAndrewshouldseeit.

TheParkKeepertoohadapresentforhim–apageoutofanexercisebookonwhichhehadprintedinlargeletters,“ObservetheRules.RemembertheBye-laws”.

“You’llneedthis,”hesaidearnestly,“ifyouevergettocometothePark.”Lutispelledoutthestrangewords.“WhatisaBye-law?”hewantedtoknow.TheParkKeeper scratchedhishead. “Idon’t rightlyknowmyself,but it’s

somethingyouhavetoremember.”Toremembersomethinghedidnotknow!ThisseemedlikeariddletoLuti.

Butheputthepaperintohispocketanddecidedtothinkaboutit.EvenAndrewandWilloughbyfromNumberSixteen,cameeachwithabone

inhismouth.AndwhenLutiopened thegate theydeposited thebonesbeforehim, and walked home waving their tails proudly and feeling noble andgenerous.

“Peace and blessings!” said Luti, smiling – which was what he said toeveryone – and hid the bones under the hedge so that some day another dogwouldfindthem.

Everyonewantedtoknowhim.IftheyhadlostNumberEighteen,theyhadbeengiven a sun-browned strangerwho for onehour, everyday, smileduponthemandblessedthem.

ButthestolenhourwasmostlyspentwithJaneandMichaelattheholeinthefence,whichseemedtobenolongeraholebutaplacewhereNorthandSouthmet,androsesandcolumbinestooktheairwithwavingcoconutpalms.

JaneandMichaelshared their toys,and taughtLuti toplayLudo,whilehemade themwhistles from leavesofgrass, told themabout thecoral islandandstories of his ancestors who came from the Land of the Sun. And of hisGrandmother, Keria, who knew the language of birds and beasts and how tosubduea thunderstorm.JaneandMichaelmany timeswished theyhadaWiseWoman for a grandmother. Aunt Flossie would never be able to deal withthunder.Allshecoulddowasescapefromitbygettingunderabed.

And always, as if by chance– but theyknew that nothing shedidwasbychance –Mary Poppins would be at hand, rocking Annabel to sleep, playingwithJohnandBarbara,orsittingonthegardenseatreadingEverythingaLadyShouldKnow.

ButtherecameadaywhentheclockstrucktwoandJaneandMichaelwenttotheholetofindnoLutithere.

ItwasMonday, and thereforeWashingDay. Itwas also dimandmisty asthoughacloudhadswallowedthesun.

“Justmyluck!”saidMrsBrill,asshepeggedthesheetsonthelines.“Ineedthesun,butitdoesn’tneedme.”

The mist did not bother Jane and Michael. They merely waited, peeringthroughit,foraglimpseofawell-knownfigure.Butwhenatlastitdidcome,itwasnottheLutitheyknew.Hewasbentandhuddledlikeanold,oldman,withhisarmshugginghischest.Andashethrewhimselfdownbesidethem,theysawthathewasweeping.

“Whatis it,Luti?Wehavebroughtyousomepears.Don’tyouwanttoeatthem?”

“No,no,Iamtroubledinmyheart.Somethingistryingtospeaktome.Icanhearaknocking.”

“Where?”Theylookedaboutuneasily.TherewasnosoundanywherebuttheriseandfallofMissAndrew’ssnoring.

“Inhere.”Lutibeathisbreast,rockinghimselftoandfro.“Theyarecallingtome–knock,knock,knock!KeriasaidIwouldsurelyknow.Theyaretellingme to come home. Alas, what must I do?” He looked at the children, withstreamingeyes.“Theladywiththeflowerinherhat–shewouldunderstand.”

“MaryPoppins!”Michaelshouted.“MaryPoppins,whereareyou?”“I am not deaf, nor in Timbuctoo. And you, Michael, are not a Hyena.

Kindlyspeakmorequietly.Annabelisasleep.”Thehatwiththepinkrosebobbingonitleantoverthetopofthefence.“Tell

me,whatisthematter,Luti?”MaryPoppinslookeddownatthesobbingchild.“Ihearaknockinginsideme,here.”Lutiputhishandonhisheart.“Ithink

theyaresendingforme.”“Thenthemomenthascomeforyoutogohome.Climbthroughtheholeand

followme.”“But Missanda – her porridge, her medicines, and my learning of many

things!”Lutieyedheranxiously.“MissAndrewwillbetakencareof,”saidMaryPoppinsfirmly.“Comewith

me,allofyou.Thereisnotmuchtime.”JaneandMichaelhelpedthehalf-willingboyhurriedlythroughthegap.And

MaryPoppinstookhishand,placingitcloselybesideherownonthehandleoftheperambulator,asthelittleprocessionmadeitswaythroughacorridorofwetwhitesheets.

They were all silent as they hurried through the misty garden, across theLane where the ripe cherries hung from the branches, each cluster veiled inwhite,andintotheParkwithitshazyshapesofbushes,treesandswings.

TheParkKeeper,likeaneagerdog,camelollopingtowardsthem.“ObservetheRules.Remember theBye-laws!You’vegot itonyourpieceofpaper,”hesaid,lookingatLuti.

“Observe them yourself,” said Mary Poppins. “There’s some wastepaperoverthere.Putitinthelitterbin.”

TheParkKeeperturnedsulkilyawayandwenttowardsthelitter.“Whodoesshethinksheis?”hemuttered.Butnoanswercametohisquestion.

MaryPoppinsmarchedon,stoppingonlyattheedgeoftheLaketoadmireherownreflection,with itsmistyrose-bedeckedhatand thewideknittedscarf

withitsmatchingrosesthattodaysheworeroundhershoulders.“Where are we going, Mary Poppins?”Where could they go in the mist,

thoughtJane.“Walkup,walkup!”saidMaryPoppins.Anditseemedtothechildrenthat

she was herself walking up, putting her foot upon the cloud as if it were astaircaseandtiltinguptheperambulatorasthoughclimbingahill.

Andsuddenly,theywereallclimbing,leavingtheParkbehindthem,walkinguponthemistysubstancethatseemedasfirmasasnowdrift.LutileantagainstMaryPoppinsasthoughsheweretheonesafethingintheworld,andtogethertheypushedtheperambulatorwhileJaneandMichaelfollowed.

“ObservetheRules!”theParkKeepershouted.“Youcan’tclimbtheclouds.It’sagainsttheBye-laws!IshallhavetoinformthePrimeMinister.”

“Do!”Mary Poppins called over her shoulder, as she led themhigher andhigher.

Ontheywent,everupwards,withthemistgrowingfirmerateverystepandtheskyaroundthembrighter.Tillatlast,asthoughtheyhadcometothetopofastaircase,agleamingcloud-fieldhadspreadoutbeforethemasflatandwhiteasa plate. The sun lay across it in stripes of gold and, to the children’sastonishment, a huge full moon confronted them, anchored, as it were, at theedgeofacloud.

It was crowded with objects of every description – umbrellas, handbags,books,toys,luggage,parcels,cricketbats,caps,coats,slippers,gloves,thekindofthingspeopleleavebehindtheminbusesortrainsoronseatsinapark.

Andamongthesevariedarticles,withasmall ironcookingstovebeside it,stoodanoldbatteredarmchair,andinthechairsatabald-headedmanintheactofraisingacuptohislips.

“Uncle! Stop! Don’t you dare drink it!” Mary Poppins’ voice rang outsharplyandthecupbangeddownintoitssaucer.

“What,what?Who?Where?”Withastart,themanliftedhishead.“Oh,it’syou,Mary!Yougavemeafright.Iwasjustgoingtotakeasipofcocoa.”

“Youwere,indeed,andyouknowquitewellthatcocoamakesonesleepy!”Sheleantinandtookthecupfromhishand.

“It’s not fair,” grumbled theuncle. “Everyone else can indulge themselveswithasoothingdrink.Butnotme,notthepoorMan-in-the-Moon.Hehastostayawakenightanddaytokeepawatchonthings.Andanyway,peopleshouldbemorecarefulandnotgolosingtinsofcocoa–yes,andcupstoputthecocoain.”

“That’sourcup!”Michaelexclaimed.“MrsBrillsaidwhenshebrokeitthat

itwouldbeneededsomewhereelse.”“Well,itwas.SoIgluedthebitstogether.Andthensomeonedroppedatin

ofcocoa.”HeglancedatthetinontheedgeofthestoveandJanerememberedthat such a one had fallen from the string bag on their way home from thegrocer’s.

“And I had a packet of sugar by me, so you see, with three such treatscomingtogether,Ijustcouldn’tresistthem.I’msorry,Mary.Iwon’tdoitagain,Ipromise.“TheMan-in-the-Moonlookedshamefaced.

“Youwon’tgetthechance,”saidMaryPoppins,seizingthetinfromthetopofthestoveandstuffingitintoherhandbag.

“Well, goodbye cocoa, goodbye sleep!” The Man-in-the-Moon sighedheavily.ThenhegrinnedandlookedatJaneandMichael.“Didyoueverknowanyonelikeher?”heasked.

“Never,never!”theybothreplied.“Ofcourseyoudidn’t,”hebeamedproudly.“She’stheOneandOnly.”“DoalllostthingscometotheMoon?”Janethoughtofthelostthingsinthe

worldandwonderediftherewasroomforthem.“Mostly,yes,”saidtheMan-in-the-Moon.“It’sakindofstorehouse.”“Andwhat’satthebackofit?”askedMichael.“Weonlyseethisside.”“Ah,ifIknewthat,I’dknowalot.It’samystery,akindofriddle–afront

without a back you might say, as far as I’m concerned. Besides, it’s veryovercrowded.Youcouldn’t relievemeofanything,couldyou?SomethingyoumighthavelostinthePark?”

“I can!” said Jane suddenly, for among the parcels and umbrellas she hadspiedashabby,familiarshape.

“TheBlueDuck!”Shereachedforthefadedtoy.“TheTwinsdroppeditoutoftheperambulator.”

“Andthere’smydearoldmouthorgan.”Michaelpointedtoametalshapeonthe shelf above the stove. “But itdoesn’tmakemusicanymore. It’s reallynousetome.”

“Nor to me, either. I have tried it. A musical instrument that can’t makemusic!Takeit,there’sagoodfellow,andputitinyourpocket.”

Michael reachedfor themouthorganandashedidso,something thatwaslyingbesideit toppledsidewaysandcamebouncingdown,rollingoutoverthecloud.

“Oh, that is mine, my lost coconut!” Luti stepped out from behindMaryPoppinsandseizedthemovingobject.Itwasbrownandshaggy,roundasaball,

onesideofitcloselyshavenwitharoundfacecarveduponit.Lutihuggedthehairythingtohisbreast.“Myfathercarvedit,”hesaidproudly,“andIlostitonedayinthetideofthe

sea.”“Andnowthetidehasgivenitback.Butyou,youngman,shouldbeonyour

way.Theyare allwaiting foryouon the island andKeria is at her clay stovemakingspellswithherbsforyoursafereturn.Yourfatherhaslatelyhurthisarmand he needs your help in the canoe. “TheMan-in-the-Moon spoke firmly toLuti.

“Heisonhisway,”saidMaryPoppins.“Thatiswhywearehere.”“Ha!Iknewyouhadsomethingupyoursleeve.Younevervisitme,Mary,

my dear, just for a friendly cup of tea – or perhaps I should say cocoa!”TheMan-in-the-Moongrinnedimpishly.

“Iwant you to keep an eye on him.He is young for such a long journey,Uncle.”

“As if I could help it – you know that.Not awinkwill I take,much lessforty!Trustyourolduncle,mygirl.”

“HowdoyouknowKeria?”askedJane.ThethoughtoftheWiseWomanfarawayfilledherwithakindofdream.Shewishedshecouldknowhertoo.

“InthesamewaythatIknoweveryone.It’smyjobtowatchandwake.TheworldturnsandIturnwiththeworld;mountainandsea,cityanddesert;theleafon the bough and the bough bare;men sleeping, waking,working; the cradlechild, the oldwoman, thewise ones and the not sowise; you in your smock,Michael in his sailor blouse; the children on Luti’s South Sea island in theirgirdlesofleavesandwreathsofflowerssuchashetoowillwearinthemorning.Thosethingshehasonnow,Mary,wouldbemostunsuitable.”

“Ihave thoughtof that, thankyou,” saidMaryPoppins,unfasteningLuti’sstiff collar and, with her usual lightning speed, sweeping off jacket andknickerbockers and Mr Banks’ big boots. Then, as he stood there in hisunderwear,shewoundabouthim,asonewouldaparcel,herknittedscarfwithitspinkrosesthatmatchedtheoneonherhat.

“Butmytreasures!Imusttakethemwithme.”Lutieyedherearnestly.MaryPoppinstookfromtheperambulatorabatteredpaperbag.“Fuss,fuss,

fuss!”shesaid,withasniff,ashefishedinthepocketsofhisjacket.“Icouldtakecareofthedaggerforyou.”Michaelwassecretlyenvious.He

hadoftenhadthoughtsofbecomingapirate.“Onemustnevergiveawayagift.Myfatherwilluseitforhiscarvingand

cuttingtwigsforthefire.”Luti stuffed the dagger into his bag with the fan, the wooden King and

Queen and the Admiral’s canoe. Last of all came a dark and sticky lump ofsomethingwrappedupinahandkerchief.

“Thechocolatebar!”Janeexclaimed.“Wethoughtyouhadeatenitup.”“Itwastooprecious,”saidLutisimply.“Wehavenosuchsweetmeatsonthe

island.Theyshallhaveatasteofit,allofthem.”Hereachedanarmoutofthescarfandstowedthebaginitswoollenfolds.

Thenhepickeduptheshaggycoconut,helditforamomenttohisheart,beforethrustingitatthechildren.

“Rememberme,please,”hesaidshyly.“Iamindeedsadtoleaveyou.”MaryPoppinspickedupthefoldedclothesandlaidthemneatlyonthefloor

ofthemoon.“Come,Luti, it is time togo. Iwill showyou theway. Jane andMichael,

takecareofthelittleone.Uncle,rememberyourpromise.”She put her arm round the pink knitted bundle and Luti turned within it,

smiling.“Peaceandblessings!”Hehelduphishand.“Peaceandblessings!”criedJaneandMichael.“Do exactly as she tells you,” said theMan-in-the-Moon, “and Peace and

blessings,myboy!”Theywatchedhimbeingmarched awayover thewhite cloudy field to the

placewhereitmetthesky.ThereMaryPoppinsbentdowntohim,pointingtoastringofcloudletsthatfloatedlikepuffballsintheblue.TheysawLutinodashegazedatthem,sawhimholduphishandinafarewellgesture,thenhisbarelegstookalittlerunthatendedinanenormousleap.

“Oh,Luti!”theycriedanxiously,andgaspedwithreliefashelandedsafelyinthemiddleofthenearestpuffball.Thenhewasskimminglightlyacrossitandjumpingontothenext.Oh,onhewent,boundingoverthegulfsofairbetweenthefloatingclouds.

Ashrillsoundcamebacktothem.Hewassinging,theycoulddistinguishthewords:

“IamLuti,SonoftheSun,Iamwearingagarmentofroses,Iamgoinghometomyisland,Peaceandblessings,Oclouds!”

Thenhewassilentandlosttosight.MaryPoppinswasstandingbesidethemandthemoon,whentheyturnedtolookatit,wasoffonitscoursesailingaway.

“Goodbye!”calledJaneandMichael,waving.Andthefaintshapeofanarmwavedbackwithanansweringcallof“AuRevoir!”.

MaryPoppinsbrandishedherparrot-headedumbrellaandthenturnedtothechildren.“Now,quickmarchandbestfootforward!”

Thepinkrosebobbedjauntilyonherhatasshegavetheperambulatoratwistandsentitrollingonadownwardslope.

They seemed to be sliding rather than walking with the cloud growingmistier every second. Soon the shapes of trees loomed through the haze andsuddenly, instead of air, therewas solid earth beneath their feet and the ParkKeeperandthePrimeMinisterwerecomingtowardsthem,ontheLongWalk,theemergingsunbrightontheirfaces.

“There they are, just like I told you, coming right down out of the sky,breakingtheRulesandtheBye-laws!”

“Nonsense,Smith, theyhadmerelywalked into themist andnow that it’slifted you can see them again. It has nothing to do with the Bye-laws. Goodafternoon,MissMaryPoppins.ImustapologisefortheParkKeeper.Onewouldthink,tohearhimtalk,thatyouhadbeenvisitingtheMoon,ha,ha!”

ThePrimeMinisterlaughedathisownjoke.“Onewouldindeed!”MaryPoppinsreplied,withagracious,innocentsmile.“Andwhathaveyoudonewiththeotherone?”theParkKeeperdemanded.

“The little brown fellow – left him up in the air?”He had seenLutiwith thefamilytroupeandnowhewaswithitnolonger.

The PrimeMinister regarded him sternly. “Really, Smith, you go too far.Howcouldanyonebeleftinthesky,supposinghecouldgetthere?Yousee,aswealldo,shapesinthemistandyourimaginationrunsawaywithyou.Getonwith yourwork in thePark,myman, anddon’t gomolesting innocent peoplewhoaresimplystrollingthroughit.ButnowImustrunawaymyself.TheysaythereistroubleintheLane.SomeoneappearstohavelosttheirwitsandImustlook into it, I suppose. Good day to you, Miss Poppins. Next time you goclimbingintotheblue,praygivemyrespectstotheMan-in-the-Moon!”

And, again laughing heartily, the Prime Minister swept off his hat andhurriedawaythroughtheParkGates.

Mary Poppins smiled to herself as she and the children followed closelybehindhim.

Angrilystaringafterthem,theParkKeeperstoodintheLongWalk.Shehad

madeafoolofhimagain!Hewassureshehadbeenupintheskyandhewishedwithallhisheartshehadstayedthere.

Therewas,indeed,troubleintheLane.Alargewoman,withabigblackbaginonehand,andtearingherhairwith

theother,wasstandingatthegateofNumberEighteen,alternatelyshoutingandsobbing.

AndMissLark’sdogs,usuallysoquiet,werejumpingupanddown,barkingather.

OfcourseitwasMissAndrew.MaryPoppins,cautiouslywalkingon tiptoe,signalled to thechildren todo

thesameastheyfollowedinthestepsofthePrimeMinister.Hewasclearlynervouswhenhereachedthescene.“Er–isthereanything,madam,Icandotohelpyou?”MissAndrewseizedhimbythearm.“HaveyouseenLuti?”shedemanded.

“Lutihasgone.IhavelostLuti.Oh,oh,oh!”“Well,” thePrimeMinisterglancedaroundanxiously.“Iamnotquite sure

whataLutiis.”Itmight,hethought,beadog,oracat,even,perhapsaparrot.“IfIknew,I

could,perhaps,beofuse.”“Helooksaftermeandmeasuresmymedicinesandgivesthemtomeatthe

propertimes.”“Oh,achemist!No,Ihaveseennochemist.Certainlynotalostone.”“Andhemakesmyporridgeinthemorning.”“Acook,then.No,Ihavenotseenacook.”“HecomesfromtheSouthSeasandI’velosthim!”MissAndrewburstanew

withsobs.The PrimeMinister looked astonished. A cook – or a chemist – from the

SouthSeas!Suchaone,iflost,wouldbehardtofind.“Well,givemeyourbagandwe’ll takeawalkalong theLane.Somebody

may have seen him. You, perhaps, madam,” he said to Miss Lark, who washurryinginpursuitofherdogs.

“No!”saidMissLark.“NeitherhaveAndrewandWilloughby!”ShewasnotgoingtohaveanythingtodowiththewomanwhosesnoringhaddisturbedtheLane.

Thetwodogsfollowedher,angrilygrowling.AndthePrimeMinisterurgedMissAndrewalong, letting her keepher grasp onhis arm, as theywent from

gatetogate.No,MrsNineteen had seen nothing. Thatwas all shewould say.AndMr

Twenty repeated herwords.Neither felt sympathy forMissAndrew. She hadtakentheirpreciousNumberEighteenand,moreover,hadkeptlockedupwithinit,thesunnystrangerwho,forjustonelittlehouraday,theyhadcometoloveandrespect.IfLutiwereindeedlosttheyhopedthatsomebetterfatewouldfindhim.

“No,no,alwaysno!Willnobodyhelpme?”wailedMissAndrew,graspingthePrimeMinistermoretightly.

And behind them, like a soundless shadow, the perambulator swept along,withMaryPoppinsandJaneandMichaelwalkingsoftlyonthegrass.

The Prime Minister’s arm was beginning to ache as Miss Andrew,continually lamenting, drewhim towardsBinnacle’s shipshaped cottagewhichstoodattheendoftheLane.

Binnacle was sitting on his front doorstep, playing his concertina and theAdmiral, withMrs Boom beside him,was singing at the top of his voice hisfavouritesea-shanty.

“Sailing,sailing,overtheboundingmain,AndmanyastormywindshallblowTillJackcomeshomeagain.”

“Stop!Stop!”MissAndrewshrieked.“ListentowhatIhavetotellyou.Lutiislost.Hehasgoneaway.”

TheAdmiralbrokeoffinmid-song.Theconcertinawassilent.“Blastmy gizzard! Lost, you say? I don’t believe it – he’s a sensible lad.

He’s probably simply up-anchored and gone to join the navy. That’s what asensibleladwoulddo.Don’tyouthinkso,PrimeMinister?”

Privately,thePrimeMinisterdidnotthinksoatall.Thenavy,hefelt,hadallthe cooks and chemists it needed. But he knew from experience that if hedisagreedwith theAdmiralhewouldbeadvised togo to seaandhepreferredbeingalandlubber.

“Well,perhaps,”hesaiduneasily,“wemustenquirefurther.”“ButwhatshallIdo?”MissAndrewbrokein.“He’slostandI’venowhereto

go!”“You’veNumberEighteen,”MrsBoomsaidgently.“Isn’tthatenough?”“AskBinnacle!”saidAdmiralBoom.“Hehasanextracabin.Plentyofroom

forherandherchattels.”Binnacle glanced at theAdmiral. Then he eyedMissAndrew reflectively.

“Well,Icouldmanagethemedicinesandallpiratesknowhowtocookporridge.But–”hisvoicenowheldanoteofwarning,–“you’vegottopaytheprice!”

Relief dawned onMissAndrew’s face. “Oh, anything!Ask any price youlike.Iwillgladlypayit.”SheloosenedhergrasponthePrimeMinister’sarm.

“Nah,nah,it’snotthemoney.YouneedsomeonetocookandmeasureandIneedsomeonetoreadtome–notonceortwicebutwheneverI’mfree!”

“Oh, I could think of nothing better.” A smile made its way on to MissAndrew’sface,whichwasnotusedtosmiling.“IhavemanybooksIcouldbringwithmeandteachyouwhatItaughtLuti.”

“Look,lady.Idon’twantno‘eddication’.Allapirateneedstolearnishowtobeapirate.But–”andagain therewasanoteofwarning–, “Iwon’thaveanyoneinmyhouseunlesstheycanbeapropershipmateanddancetheSailor’sHornpipe!”

“TheHornpipe!”MissAndrewwasshocked.“Icouldneverthinkofsuchathing.Besides,Idon’tevenknowit!”

“Ofcourseyoucould!”said theAdmiral.“Everyoneonseaor landcandothe Sailor’s Hornpipe. All you need is to hear the music. Strike a chord,Binnacle.Upwiththeanchor!”

BinnaclegrinnedattheAdmiral,andtheconcertina,atatouchofhishand,brokeintotherockingtune.

TheAdmiral’s feet began to twitch, sodidMrsBoom’s.Sodid thePrimeMinister’s. And Mrs Nineteen and Mr Twenty, hearing the sound from theirfrontgardens,begantoswaywiththemusic.

ButMissAndrewstoodasifcarvedinstone,herfacefierceanddetermined.‘Nothingwillmoveme,’itseemedtosay,‘notevenanearthquake’.

Mary Poppins regarded her thoughtfully, as the music grew wilder andwilder.ThenshepluckedthemouthorganfromMichael’spocketandput it toherlips.

Immediately a tune broke from it keeping time with the concertina. Andslowly,slowly,asthoughagainstitswill,thestonefigurethrustfrombeneathitsskirts two large feet thathadneverdancedbutwerenowbeginning toshuffle.Heelandtoe,awaywego,acrosstheboundingmain.

Andsuddenlytheywereallsailors,MissAndrewamongthem,unwillinglymovinghergreatbulkthroughthemeasuresofthehornpipe.

The Twins and Annabel bobbed up and down. Jane andMichael pranced

besidethem,whiletheCherryTreesbentandbowedandthecherriestwirledontheir stems.OnlyMary Poppins stood still, themouth organ, held against herlips,givingoutitslivelytune.

Thenitwasover,thelastchordplayed,andeveryone–exceptMissAndrew–wasbreathlessandpleasedwiththemselves.

“Bravo,messmate!”theAdmiralroared,doffinghishattothestonyfigure.But the stony figure took no notice. It had caught sight suddenly ofMary

Poppins,stuffingthemouthorganintoMichael’spocket.Along,longlook,asoftwowolvesmeeting,passedbetweenthepair.“You again!” Miss Andrew’s face was contorted with rage and the

realisationthatforthesecondtimeMaryPoppinshadbamboozledher.“Itwasyouwhomademe perform like that – so shameful, so undignified!And you,you,YOU,who sent Luti away!” She pointed a large, trembling finger at thecalmandsmilingfigure.

“Nonsense,madam,youaremuchmistaken,” thePrimeMinisterbroke in.“Noonecanforceanothertodance.Youoweittoyourowntwofeet,andveryapttheywere.AsforMissPoppins,arespectablewell-behavedyoungwoman,alwayssobusywithhercharges,couldsuchaonegallivantabout,dispatchingcooks–orforthatmatter,chemists–tosomewhereintheSouthSeas?Certainlynot.It’sunthinkable!”

Jane and Michael looked at each other. The unthinkable, they knew, hadbeenthought.Ithad,indeed,recentlyhappened.AndLutiwasonhiswaytohishomeland.

“Everyoneneedshisownhome,”saidMaryPoppinscalmly.Andshetwirledtheperambulatorroundandsentitspeedinghomewards.

“And I need mine,” cried Miss Andrew wildly, flinging herself againstBinnacle’sfrontdoor.

“Well,you’vegotonehere,” saidBinnacle. “Unles–”he smileda terriblepiratesmile–”unlessyou’dpreferNumberEighteen.”

“Oh,never,never!NotwithoutLuti!”MissAndrewburiedher face inherhands.Andbeforesheknewit,BinnacleandthePrimeMinister–whowasstillholdingthemedicinebag–hadhustledherintothehouse.

“Well,she’ssafelyinport,”saidAdmiralBoom.“They’llputheronanevenkeel.”

And,takingMrsBoom’sarm,heallowedhertoleadhimaway.

It was growing dark when Mr Banks, coming along the Lane, glanced at

Binnacle’sfrontwindowandbeheldacurioussight.Inasmallroom,cleanandbare as the deck of a ship, sat Miss Andrew in the only chair, looking likesomebodywhohasbeenshipwrecked.Anemptyglassstoodona tablenearbyandbesideher,squattingonhishaunches,wasBinnacle,absorbedinsomethingshewas reading aloud– an activity that, from the lookon her face, filled herwithrageanddisgust.

And,inthedoorway,intentlylistening,wasnolessapersonthanthePrimeMinister.TheHeadoftheStateinCherryTreeLaneconcerninghimselfwiththegoings-oninthehomeofanex-pirate!

Amazed,MrBankstookoffhishat.“CanIbeofservice,PrimeMinister?Isanythingamiss?”

“Oh, Banks, my dear fellow, such tribulations! The lady whom you seeinside has vacated Number Eighteen because her companion – a cook or achemist, I’m not surewhich – has apparently deserted her.AndBinnacle, theAdmiral’sservant,hastakenhertolivewithhimontwoimportantconditions–one, that she dance the Sailor’sHornpipe and the other, that she read to him.Well,shehasdanced,thoughunwillingly,andnowsheisreadingaloud.”

“Iamflabbergasted!”saidMrBanks.“MissAndrewdancing!Lutigone! Ithinkyoushouldknow,PrimeMinister,thatthatcompanionwasneitheracooknorachemist,butaboyhardlytallerthanmydaughterJane,whowasbroughtbyMissAndrewfromtheSouthernSeas.”

“A child! Good Heavens, we must get the police! A lost boy must besearchedfor.”

“Iwouldn’t advise it,PrimeMinister.Thepolicemight frightenhim.Givehimjustalittlemoretime.He’sabrightlad.Hewillfindhisway.”

“We-ell,ifyouthinkso.YouknowthembetterthanI.”“Ido,indeed.MissAndrewwasoncemygoverness.Andshe’sknownasthe

HolyTerror.Theboyhashadaluckyescape.”“Ha!Well,it’sBinnaclenowwho’stheHolyTerror.Hehasgivenhercold

porridge to eat, made her drink variousmedicines mixed together in a singleglass, andhewon’t let her read tohimanythingbut copies–neworold–ofFizzo!”

“Fizzo! But that’s a comic, surely. AndMiss Andrew is a learnt woman.Havingtoreadcomicsaloudwillsimplyhorrifyher.Perhapsitwillevendrivehermad.”

“Well, Ihappento like them,Banks.IgetsowearyofmakingLawsthatIfindFizzo quite restful.Wehave just hadTigerTimand theTortoise and are

nowinthemiddleofSam’sAdventure.So,excuseme,please,mydearfellow.ImusthearhowheandGwendolynmanagetodealwiththeDragon.”

“Oh,ofcourse!”saidMrBankspolitely.And, leaving the Prime Minister craning his head to catch the story, he

hurriedhomefulloftheevening’snews.NumberEighteen,ashepassedit,hadsomethingofitsoldfriendlylookand

MissLark’sdogswerebusilysniffingatsomethingunderthehedge.TheycouldsmelltheoldbonestheyhadgivenLutiand,sinceheseemedtohavegoneaway,theywereanxioustoretrievethem.Whyleavesuchtreasuresforotherdogs?

“Ihavenewsforyou,”MrBanksexclaimed,asMrsBanksmethimat thedoor. “Thesensationof theyear,mydear!Luti isno longerwithusandMissAndrewhasleftNextDoorandgonetolivewithBinnacle.”

MrsBanksgaveanastonishedshriekandcollapseduponachair.“Lutilost?Oh,thatpoordearchild!Shouldn’twegoandlookforhim?So

youngandinastrangeland.”“Oh,Lutihasagoodheadonhisshoulders.He’sprobablymadehiswayto

thedocksandstowedawayonsometradingship.It’sMissAndrewI’mthinkingabout. She kept that boy like a bird in a cage and now she’s a bird in a cageherself,readingstoriesfromFizzo.”

“Fizzo? Miss Andrew? I can’t believe it.” It was Mrs Banks’ turn to beflabbergasted.

Mr Banks was almost dancing with joy. He was thinking that now hisastronomerwould soon be in his old haunts again, his telescope turned to thesky.HedidnotyetknowthatNextDoor’sinvisibledwellerswerealreadybackintheirplaces–theGrandmother,thechesscompanions,AdmiralBoom’sbravesea captain,MrsBoom’squiet child,MrsBanks’ friendly friend, theSleepingBeauty,Gobbo.Nordidherealise thateven thenettleshadbegun tosprout inthegardenagain.

“Thinkofit!”hecriedwithdelight.“NumberEighteenemptyagainandwithluckwe’llkeepitso!”

“But, George, shouldn’t we think of Miss Andrew? Will she be able toenduresuchalife?”

“No,mydear,I’msureshewon’t.It’smybeliefthatBinnaclewillwakeupone morning and find himself deserted – no one to read aloud to him. MissAndrew,asweknow,hasamindofherown.She’salearntwomanandabornteacher.She’llskipoffsomewhere,I’llbebound.LasttimeitwastotheSouth.Perhapsshe’llmakeherwayNorthwardsandfindanEskimo,heavenhelphim!

Youmarkmywords, theLanewill have seen the last of her sooner than youthink.”

“Well, I hope so,” murmured Mrs Banks. “We have had enough of thatterrible snoring. Michael!” She broke off at the sight of a figure in pyjamasperchedonthebanisters.“Yououghttobeinbed!”

“Andwhatdoyouthinkyou’redoing?”askedhisfather.“Tryingtoclimbupthebanisters?”

“I’mbeingapirate,”Michaelpanted,attemptingtopullhimselfhigher.“Well,noone,notevenapirate,canclimbupbanisters.It’sagainstthelaws

ofnature.Andbytheway–I’msorry tohave to tellyouthis–Lutihasgoneaway.Wewon’tbeseeinghimagain,I’mafraid.”

“I know,” said Michael – knowing too, though he did not say so, thatSomeonehadclimbedthebanisters.Someone,infact,whowasnotfaraway.

“Really!”saidMrBankstestily.“Ican’tthinkhowitsooftenhappensthatmychildrenseemtoknowwhat’safootbeforeIgetahintofit.Beoffwithyou,onyourtwofeet,likeanycivilisedbeing.”

Michaelwentunwillingly.Hedidnotlikebeingcivilised.AtthetopofthestairsMaryPoppinswaswaiting,ablue-cladstatuewithan

armoutstretchedthatpointedtohisbed.“Oh,notagain,please,MaryPoppins.I’mtiredofgoingtobedeverynight.”“Thenightisforsleeping,”shesaidprimly.“So,inwithyou,spit-spot.And

youtoo,ifyouplease,Jane.”ForJane,holdingLuti’scoconut,waskneelingonthewindow-seatwatching

the fullmoon sailing the sky low down on the horizon. Therewas somebodythere,thoughshecouldnotseehim,forwhomnonightwasforsleeping.

“AndI’lltakecareofthat.Thankyou!”MaryPoppinstookthecoconutandglanced at the carved smiling face that seemed to repeat, though wordlessly,Luti’sphraseof,“Peaceandblessings!”.

Sheplaceditonthemantelpieceandasshedidsoherimagelookedatherfromthemirrorandthetwoexchangedanodofapproval.

“ButIwantedtowatchandwake,”grumbledMichael.TohissurpriseMaryPoppinssaidnothing.Shemerelyplacedachairbyhis

bedandwithawidedramaticgestureinvitedhimtositdown.Hedidso,fullofdetermination.HetoowouldseeLutionhisway.But soonhis eyes began to close.Hepropped themopenwith his fingers.

Butthenheyawned,anenormousyawnthatseemedtoswallowhimup.“I’d better do it tomorrow,” he said, and rolled sideways into the bed that

MaryPoppins,withalookthatsaidmorethanwords,wasturningdownforhim.“Tomorrownevercomes,”saidJane.“Whenyouwakeupit’salwaystoday.”

Andshetooclimbedintobed.Theylaythere,watchingMaryPoppinsmakingherusualwhirlwindround,

tucking inAnnabel and the Twins, pushing the rocking-horse into his corner,taking thingsoutofpockets, foldingup theclothes.Asshecame toMichael’ssailorblouse,shetossedthemouthorgantohim.

Hedecidedtogiveitanothertry,blowinginandblowingout,butagainthemouthorganwassilent.

“It stillwon’twork forme,” he said, “and itwouldn’t for theMan-in-the-Moon. Iwonder,Mary Poppins,why itworked for youwhen you played theSailor’sHornpipe?”

Shefavouredhimwithaquickblueglance.“Iwonder!”shesaidmockingly,andwentonbeingawhirlwind.

Janetoowouldhavelikedtowatchandwake,butsheknewthatshecouldnotdoit.Soshelaystill,thinkingofLuti–picturingthesinging,leapingfigure,wrappedinthescarfofwoollenroses,careeringacrossthesky.ForLutitoo,thenightwasnotforsleeping.Andsuddenly,shewasanxious.

“Suppose, Mary Poppins,” she burst out. “Suppose there are not enoughcloudsuptheretotakehimalltheway!”Sherememberedmanyaclear,brightnightwhenfromcornertocorneroftheworld,therewasnothingbutdarkbluesky.“Whatifhecametoanemptyspace?Howcouldhegofurther?”

“There’salwaysacloudaboutsomewhere,”saidMaryPoppinscomfortably.And she set a match to the wick of the night-light where it stood on themantelpiece,asmallandglowinglikenessofthebiglamponthetable.Asusual,itwouldwatchallnight.Andthetwolampsfilledtheroomwithshadowsthatwerethemselveslikeclouds.

Janefeltreassured.“Whenthemorningcomeshewillbeathome,underthecoconut palms.Andwe toowill be at home, but under theCherryTrees. It’sdifferent,butsomehowthesame.”

“East.West.Home’sBest,” saidMaryPoppinscheerfully, as shehung theparrot-headedumbrellaonitsaccustomedhook.

“And you, Mary Poppins,” Jane demanded, knowing that it was a daringquestion.“Whereisyourhome–EastorWest?Wheredoyougowhenyou’renothere?”

“Everyoneneeds his ownhome– that’swhat you said today, remember?”Michaeltoowasdaring.

Mary Poppins stood by the table, a whirlwind no longer, her day’s workover.

Theglowfromthebiglamplitupherface, thepinkcheeks, theblueeyes,theturned-upnose.

She looked at them both reflectively while they waited, hardly breathing.Where did she come from–woodlandor field, cottage or castle,mountain orsea?Wouldsheorwouldn’tshetellthem?

Oh,shewould!theythought,forherfacewassovivid,sobrimfulofthingsthatremainedtobetold.

Then a sparkle leapt to the blue eyes and the old, familiar secret smilegreetedtheireagerfaces.

“I’mathome,”shesaid,“whereverIam!”Andwiththat,sheturnedoutthelamp.

A.M.G.D.

PostscriptbyBrianSibley

“Ifyouarelookingforautobiographicalfacts,”P.L.Traversoncewrote,“MaryPoppins isthestoryofmylife.”Thisseemsratherunlikelywhenyouconsiderthat Mary Poppins goes inside a chalk pavement picture, slides up banisters,arrangestea-partiesontheceilingandhasacarpet-bagwhichisbothemptyand–atthesametime–containsmanystrangebutusefulobjects.Andyetmemoriesof people and events from her life did find their way into theMary Poppinsstories–notthatmostpeoplewereawareofthat.Eventhoseofuswhowereherfriendsknewlittleaboutherprivatelife.

Onethingwedidknowwasthat,asachildgrowingupinAustralia,shehadfallen in love with the fairy-tales, myths and legends from which she laterborrowedsomeoftheideasandimagesfoundinherownbooks.Herpassionforreadingnaturallyledhertobecomeastoryteller,beginningherwritingcareerasa journalistandpoetsomeyearsbeforeshewroteher first full-lengthnovel. Itwasinoneofherearlieststories–writtenbeforesheleftAustraliaforBritainin1924–thatacharacterappearednamedMaryPoppins.Shewasneithermagicalnorparticularlymemorable,buttheauthorhadfoundanamethatshewouldonedaygivetosomebodyelse...

That “somebody” blew into Pamela Travers’ imagination rather as MaryPoppinsherselfblew intoCherryTreeLane.Theauthorwasstaying inanoldthatchedmanor inSussex andwas ill in bed.As she once described it tome:“Theideaofthisunusualpersoncametomeand,inthathalfwaystatebetweenbeingwellandill,Ibegantowriteabouther.”

So,somepartsofMaryPoppinscametoPamelafromoutoftheblue;otherswerememories of her earlier lifewhen shewas growing up on anAustraliansugarplantation.Bertha (ormaybeshewascalledBella–Pamelacouldneverquiteremember!),oneofthefamily’sIrishservants,wasamarvellouscharacterwhoseprideandjoywasaparrot-headedumbrella.“WheneverBerthawasgoingout,”Pamelatoldme,“theumbrellawouldbecarefullytakenoutoftissuepaperandoffshewouldgo,lookingterriblystylish.But,assoonasshecameback,theumbrellawouldbewrappedupintissuepaperoncemore.”

LikeMaryPoppins,Berthaalsohadanumberoffascinatingrelativeswhom

shewouldvisit.Pamelarecalled:“Shewouldcomebackandtelluswonderfulstories...Butno–shewouldn’tquitetell.She’djusthint:‘Ifyoucouldknowwhathappenedtomecousin’sbrother-in-law...’Andwhenyou’dopenedyourearsandyoureyes–andyourmouth–waitingformore,shewouldsay: ‘Ah,well, then,it’snotfortheearsofchildren. . .’AndIwouldwonderwhatwerethosethingsthatwerenotfortheearsofchildren.”

Somechildren’swriters–maybebecausetheyworryaboutwhatissuitablefortheearsofchildren–talkdowntotheirreaders.NotP.L.Travers.“Nobodywritesforchildrenreally,”she’dsay.“You’rewritingtomakeyourselflaugh,oryourselfcry;ifyouwriteforchildren,you’velostthem.”Herreadersprovedherright, and wrote to the author in their thousands, often asking the samequestions:WheredidMaryPoppins come from?Whydid shego?Andwheredidshego?

From every point of the compass – and Mary Poppins knew all aboutcompasses!–childrenwouldsendtheirletters,carefullywritteninlarge,roundwriting, punctuating their demands for answers with words of praise and,occasionally,complaint.When,attheendofMaryPoppinsOpenstheDoor,theheroineflewawayforthethirdtime,aboy(whowasn’ttheworld’sbestspeller)wrotemournfully:“Youshouldnothavedonethat,Madum,youhavemadethechildren cry.” Pamela treasured that letter, and replied: “I am not surprised. Icriedmyself,whenIwroteitdown.”

TheonlyrulePamelahadaboutwritingwasthattherewerenosetrules.Shewroteherstories,shesaid,”becausetheywerethere tobewritten”.Theactualbusiness of catching ideas and getting them on paper was a mysterious andlonelyprocess;andyet,asshewouldexplain,“youcandoitanywhere,anytime–whenyou’reoutattheshopsbuyingapoundofbutter–stillitgoeson.Evenifyouforgetyourideabythetimeyougethome,youwaitalittleandthenitwillcomebackifitwantsto.”

And the ideas did come back – or maybe she had never forgotten them?“Spit-spot into bed”was a favourite phrase of hermother’s, and other bits ofMary Poppins’ character were clearly inspired by Pamela’s spinster aunt,Christina Saraset, whom everybody called “Aunt Sass”. She was a crisp, no-nonsense woman with a sharp tongue and a heart of gold who, like MaryPoppins, was given to making “a curious convulsion in her nose that wassomethingbetweenasnortandasniff”.

WhenPamelaoncesuggestedtoherauntthatshemightwriteabouther,theelderlyladyreplied:“What!Youputmeinabook!Itrustyouwillneversofar

forget yourself as to do anything so vulgarly disgusting!” This indignantresponse was followed up with a contemptuous, “Sniff, sniff!” Doesn’t thissoundjustlikeMaryPoppinsspeaking?Equally,itmighthavebeenP.L.Traversherself,whosaidsomethingverysimilartomewhenIrashlysuggestedonedaythatImightwriteherlifestory!

Ireceivedasimilarreaction–theseverelookandthesniff!–whenIoncewonderedaloudwhetherMaryPoppinswasbasedonarealperson.Afterall,thecharacter isveryreal toagreatmanypeople.PamelaherselfhadoncetoldmehowaharassedmotherofthreehadwrittentoaskforMaryPoppins’saddress,adding:“Because if shehas really left theBanks family,couldn’t shecome tome?”Inreplytomyquestion,however,allPamelawouldsaywas,“Well?Haveyouevermetanyone likeMaryPoppins?”Takenabackbyherbrusque tone, Iwassilentforamoment,thensummonedupmycourageandsaidthatIhadn’tbutthatIratherwishedIhad.

WhatIshouldhavesaidwaswhatIknewinmyheart,whichwas,“Yes, IhavemetsomeoneverylikeMaryPoppins–andsheisyou...”

BRIANSIBLEY

AbouttheAuthor

P.L.Traverswasbornin1899,inMaryboroughinQueensland,Australia,oneofthree sisters. She was a keen reader, particularly of all kinds of myths andlegends, but before long shemoved on to reading hermother’s library books(whichinvolvedsneakingintoherroomwhileshewasasleep!).

Pameladeliberatelykeptherlifeveryprivate.ShelivedforawhileinIrelandandLondon,andtravelledfrequentlytoAmerica,whereshewasmadewriterinresidence to both Smith and Radcliffe Colleges in Massachusetts. She alsoreceivedanhonorarydoctoratefromChathamCollege,Pittsburgh.

Although sheworked as a secretary, a dancer and an actress, writingwasP.L.Travers’s real love,andformanyyearsshewasa journalist. Itwaswhileshewasrecuperatingfromaserious illness thatshewroteMaryPoppins–“towhileawaythedays,butalsotoputdownsomethingthathadbeeninmymindforalongtime”,shesaid.ShereceivedanOBEin1977,anddiedin1996.

Copyright

FirstpublishedbyHarperCollinsChildren’sBooks1994

HarperCollinsChildren’sBooksisadivisionofHarperCollinsPublishersLtd77–85FulhamPalaceRoad

Hammersmith,LondonW68JBwww.harpercollins.co.uk

MaryPoppinsfirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyPeterDavies1934FirstpublishedbyWilliamCollinsSons&CoLtd1958

MaryPoppinsComesBackfirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyPeterDavies1935FirstpublishedbyWilliamCollinsSons&CoLtd1958

MaryPoppinsOpenstheDoorfirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyPeterDavies1944

FirstpublishedbyWilliamCollinsSons&CoLtd1958MaryPoppinsintheParkfirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyPeterDavies1962MaryPoppinsinCherryTreeLanefirstpublishedbyWilliamCollinsSons&

CoLtd1982MaryPoppinsandtheHouseNextDoorfirstpublishedbyWilliamCollinsSons

&CoLtd1988ThiseditionpublishedbyHarperCollinsChildren’sBooksin2010

Textcopyright©TheTrusteesoftheP.L.TraversWillTrust1934,1935,1944,1962,1982,1988

Illustrationscopyright©MaryShepard1934,1935,1944,1962,1982,1988Postscriptcopyright©BrianSibley1998

WhyYou’llLoveThisBookcopyright©CameronMackintosh2008

AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthe

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storageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereinafterinvented,withouttheexpresswritten

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HarperCollinsPublishershasmadeeveryreasonableefforttoensurethatanypicturecontentandwrittencontentinthisebookhasbeenincludedorremovedinaccordancewiththecontractualandtechnologicalconstraintsinoperationat

thetimeofpublication.

SourceISBN:9780007398553EbookEdition©NOVEMBER2013ISBN:9780007552672

Version:2013-11-15

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