Mary Poppins Opens the Door

by P. L. Travers

  Holding his cheek in his two hands he gazed round the Nursery. Everything there had the familiar look of an old friend. The wall paper, the rocking-horse, the worn red carpet. His eyes wandered to the mantelpiece.

  There lay the Compass and the Doulton Bowl, the jam-jar full of daisies, the stick of his old Kite and Mary Poppins' Tape Measure. And there, too, was the present Aunt Flossie had given him yesterday—the little Cat of white china patterned with blue-and-green flowers. It sat there with its paws together and its tail neatly curled about them. The sunlight shone on its china back; its green eyes gazed gravely across the room. Michael gave it a friendly smile. He was fond of Aunt Flossie and he liked the present she had brought him.

  Then his tooth gave another dreadful stab.

  "Ow!" he shrieked, "It's digging a hole right into my gum!" He glanced pathetically at Mary Poppins. "And nobody cares!" he added bitterly.

  Mary Poppins tossed him a mocking smile.

  "Don't look at me like that!" he complained.

  "Why not? A Cat can look at a King, I suppose!"

  "But I'm not a king——" he grumbled crossly, "and you're not a cat, Mary Poppins!" He hoped she would argue with him about it and take his mind off his tooth.

  "Do you mean any cat can look at the King? Could Michael's cat?" demanded Jane.

  Mary Poppins glanced up. Her blue eyes gazed at the Cat's green eyes and the Cat returned her look.

  There was a pause.

  "Any cat," said Mary Poppins at last. "But that cat more than most."

  Smiling to herself, she took up the ball of wool again and something stirred on the mantelpiece. The china cat twitched its china whisker and lifted its head and yawned. The children could see its glistening teeth and a long pink cat's tongue. The Cat then arched its flowery back and stretched itself lazily. And after that, with a wave of its tail, it leapt from the mantelpiece.

  Plop! went the four paws on the carpet. Purr! said the Cat as it crossed the hearth-rug. It paused for a moment by Mary Poppins and gave her a little nod. Then it sprang upon the window-sill, dived out into the shining sunlight and disappeared.

  Michael forgot his toothache and gaped.

  Jane dropped her skein and stared.

  "But—" they both stammered. "How? Why?

  Where?"

  "To see the Queen," Mary Poppins answered. "She's At Home every Second Friday. Don't stare like that, Jane—the wind might change! Close your mouth, Michael! Your tooth will get cold."

  "But I want to know what happened!" he cried. "He's made of china. He isn't real. And yet—he jumped! I saw him."

  "Why did he want to see the Queen?" asked Jane.

  "Mice," replied Mary Poppins calmly. "And partly for Old Sake's Sake."

  A faraway look came into her eyes and the hands on the ball of wool fell idle. Jane flung a warning glance at Michael. He wriggled cautiously out of bed and crept across the room. Mary Poppins took no notice. She was gazing thoughtfully out of the window with distant dreamy eyes.

  "Once upon a time," she began slowly, as though she were reading from the sheet of sunlight....

  Once upon a time, there lived a King who thought he knew practically everything. I couldn't even begin to tell you the things he thought he knew. His head was as full of facts and figures as a pomegranate of pips. And this had the effect of making the King extremely absent-minded. You will hardly believe me when I say that he even forgot his own name, which was Cole. The Prime Minister, however, had an excellent memory, and reminded him of it from time to time.

  Now, this King's favourite pursuit was thinking. He thought all night and he thought in the morning. He thought at mealtimes, he thought in his bath. He never noticed what was happening in front of his nose because, of course, he was always thinking about something else.

  And the things he thought about were not, as you might imagine, the welfare of his people and how to make them happy. Not at all. His mind was busy with other questions. The number of baboons in India, for instance; and whether the North Pole was as long as the South; and if pigs could be taught to sing.

  He not only worried about these things himself. He forced everybody else to worry about them, too. All except the Prime Minister, who was not at all a thinking kind of person but an old man who liked to sit in the sun and do absolutely nothing. But he was careful not to let this be known for fear the King would cut off his head.

  The King lived in a palace made entirely of crystal. In the early days of his reign it had shone so brightly that passers-by would hide their eyes, for fear of being dazzled. But gradually the crystal grew duller and the dust of the seasons covered its brightness. Nobody could be spared to polish it for everyone was far too busy helping the King think his thoughts. At any moment they might be ordered to leave their work and hurry away on the King's business. To China, perhaps, to count the silkworms. Or to find out if the Solomon Islands were ruled by the Queen of Sheba. When they came back with their lists of facts, the King and the courtiers would write them down in large books bound in leather. And if anyone returned without an answer, his head was at once cut off.

  The only person in the palace who had nothing to do was the Queen. All day long she sat on her golden throne, twisting the necklace of blue-and-green flowers that was clasped about her throat. Sometimes she would start up with a cry and pull her ermine robes about her. For the palace, as it grew more and more dirty, became infested with mice. And mice, as anyone will tell you, are the things no Queen can stand.

  "O-o-o-h!" she would say, with a little gasp, as she leapt on the seat of the throne.

  And each time she cried out the King would frown.

  "Silence please!" he would say, in a fractious voice, for the least little noise disturbed his thinking. Then the mice would scatter for a little while and no sound would be heard in the room. Except for the scratching of goose-quill pens as the King and the courtiers added new facts to the ones in the leather books.

  The Queen never gave orders, not even to her Ladies-of-the-Bedchamber. For as likely as not the King would countermand them.

  "Mend the Queen's petticoat?" he would say crossly. "What petticoat? Why waste time talking about petticoats? Take a pen and write out these facts about the Phoenix!"

  What a dreadful state of affairs, you will say! And, indeed, I wouldn't blame you. But you must not think it was always like that. The Queen, sitting lonely upon her throne, would often remind herself of the days when she first had married the King. How tall and handsome he had been, with his strong white neck and ruddy cheeks, and locks of hair folded round his head like the leaves of camellia flowers.

  "Ah!" she would sigh, remembering back. How he had fed her with honey-cakes and fingers of buttered bread from his plate. How his face had been so full of love that her heart would turn over in her breast and force her to look away, for sheer joy.

  But at last there came a fateful evening.

  "Your eyes are brighter than stars," he said, as he glanced from her face to the shining sky. But instead of turning to her again as usual, he continued to gaze upwards.

  "I wonder," he said dreamily, "just how many stars there are! I think I shall count them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven——" And he went on counting till the Queen fell asleep beside him.

  "One thousand, two hundred and forty-nine——" he was saying as she woke up.

  And after that he would not be satisfied till he got the courtiers out of their beds and set them to counting stars. And as no two answers came out alike the King was very angry.

  That was how it all began.

  The next day, the King exclaimed, "Your cheeks, my Darling, are like two roses!"

  And the Queen was very happy till he added, "But why roses? Why not cabbages? Why are cheeks pink and cabbages green? And vice versa? This is a very serious question."

  The third day he told her that her teeth were like pearls. But before she even had time to smile, he went on——

  "And what if they are? Ever
ybody has, after all, a certain number of teeth, and most of them are pearly. Pearls themselves, however, are very rare. It is more important to think about them."

  So he summoned the best divers in the kingdom and sent them down under the sea.

  And from that day onwards he was always thinking. He was only concerned with gaining knowledge and he never even looked at the Queen. Indeed, if he had glanced in her direction, he would probably not have seen her, for he worked so hard at his books and papers that he soon became very short-sighted. His round red face grew thin and wrinkled, and his hair turned grey at an early age. He ate practically nothing—except for a cheese-and-onion sandwich whenever the old Prime Minister told him that dinner was on the table.

  Well! You can imagine how lonely the Queen was. Sometimes the Prime Minister would shuffle cautiously to the throne and pat her hand kindly. Sometimes the little page who filled the inkwells would raise his eyes and smile at her from behind the King's back. But neither the old man nor the boy could spare much time to amuse the Queen, for fear of losing their heads.

  You must not think the King meant to be unkind. Indeed, it seemed to him that his subjects were luckier than most, for hadn't they a King who knew practically everything? But while he was busy gathering knowledge his people grew poorer and poorer. Houses fell into ruin and fields went untilled, because the King needed all the men to help him in his thinking.

  At last there came a day when the King and the courtiers were busy, as usual, at their desks in the Council Chamber. The Queen sat listening to the scratching of pens and the squeaking of mice in the wainscot. And presently, as she sat so still, a bold mouse streaked across the floor and began to wash its whiskers right under the throne. The Queen gave a little frightened gasp. But she quickly clapped her hand to her mouth for fear of disturbing the King. Then she pulled her ermine train about her and sat trembling within it. And at that moment, over the edge of her hand, her startled eyes glanced across the room and saw on the threshold—a cat.

  A small cat it was, as fluffy as a dandelion, and white as sugar from tail to whisker. It walked with a lazy swinging step as though it had nothing at all to do and all time to do it in. A pair of green eyes glowed in its head as it sauntered through the door.

  For a moment it paused at the carpet's edge, glancing curiously at the King and the courtiers as they bent above their books. Then the green eyes turned towards the Queen. The Cat gave a start and its body stiffened. Up went its back like the hump of a camel. Its whiskers stretched into threads of steel. Then it leapt across the Council Chamber and dived beneath the throne. There was a hoarse cat-cry. And a smothered squeak. And the mouse was there no longer.

  "Silence, please! Don't make such extraordinary noises, my dear! They interrupt my thoughts!" said the King fractiously.

  "It wasn't me," said the Queen timidly. "It was a Cat."

  "Cats?" said the King absent-mindedly, without even lifting his head. "Cats are four-footed creatures covered with fur. They eat mice, fish, liver and birds and communicate either in a purr or a caterwaul. They keep themselves to themselves and are popularly supposed to possess nine lives. For further information on Cats, see Page Two, Volume Seven, Shelf D in Library Number Five to the left as you go in the door. Here! Hi! What's all this——?"

  With a start the King looked up from his page. For the Cat was sitting on the desk before him.

  "Kindly be careful!" the King said crossly. "You're right on my latest facts. They deal with a very important question. Do turkeys really come from Tlirkey and if not, why? Well, what do you want? Speak up! Don't mumble."

  "I want to have a look at you," the Cat said calmly.

  "Oho! You do, do you? Well, a Cat may look at a King, they say! And I've no objection. Go ahead!"

  The King leaned backwards in his chair and turned his face from left to right so the Cat could see both sides.

  The Cat gazed thoughtfully at the King.

  There was a long pause.

  The Cat was sitting on the desk before him

  "Well?" said the King, with a tolerant smile. "And what do you think of me, may I ask?"

  "Not much," said the Cat casually, licking its right front paw.

  "What?" cried the King. "Not much, indeed! My poor ignorant animal, you are evidently not aware which King you are looking at!"

  "All kings are pretty much alike," said the Cat.

  "Nothing of the kind," the King said angrily. "I defy you to name a single king that knows as much as I do. Why, professors come from the ends of the earth to consult with me for half an hour. My court is composed of the Very Best People. Jack-the-Giant-Killer digs my garden. My flocks are tended by no less a person than Bo-Peep. And all my pies contain Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds. Not much to look at, forsooth! And who are you, I'd like to know, to speak to a King like that!"

  "Oh, just a cat," the Cat replied. "Four legs and a tail and a couple of whiskers."

  "I can see that for myself!" snapped the King. "It doesn't matter to me what you look like. What I care about is, how much do you know?"

  "Oh, everything," the Cat said calmly, as it licked the tip of its tail.

  "What!" The King burst out with an angry splutter. "Well, of all the vain, conceited creatures! I've a jolly good mind to chop off your head."

  "So you shall," said the Cat. "But all in good time."

  "Everything! Why, you preposterous animal! There's no one alive—not even myself—who could be as wise as that!"

  "With the single exception of cats," said the Cat. "All cats, I assure you, know everything!"

  "Very well," growled the King. "But you've got to prove it. If you're so clever I shall ask you three questions. And then we shall see what we'll see."

  He smiled a supercilious smile. If the wretched Cat insisted on boasting, it would have to take the consequences!

  "Now," he said, leaning back in his chair and putting his fingers together. "My first question is——"

  "One moment, please!" the Cat said calmly. "I cannot undertake to answer your questions until we have settled the terms. No cat would do anything so foolish. I am prepared to make a bargain with you. And these are my conditions. It is agreed between us that you shall ask me three questions. After that, it is only fair that I should question you. And whichever one of us wins the contest shall have command of your kingdom."

  The courtiers dropped their pens in surprise. The King's eyes goggled with astonishment.

  But he swallowed the words that sprang to his mouth and gave a disdainful laugh.

  "Very well," he said haughtily. "It's a great waste of time and you, not I, will be the one to regret it. But I accept your bargain."

  "Then take off your crown," commanded the Cat, "and lay it on the table between us."

  The King tore the crown from his tattered head and the jewels flashed in the sunlight.

  "Let's get this nonsense over and done with! I have to go on with my work," he said crossly. "Are you ready? Well, here is my first question. If you laid them carefully, end to end, how many six-foot men would it take to go right round the Equator?"

  "That's easy," the Cat replied, with a smile. "You simply divide the length by six."

  "Aha!" cried the King with a crafty look. "That's all very well—but what is the length?"

  "Any length you like," the Cat said airily. "It doesn't really exist, you know. The Equator is purely an imaginary line."

  The King's face darkened with disapproval.

  "Well," he said sulkily, "tell me this. What is the difference between an Elephant and a Railway Porter?"

  "No difference at all," said the Cat at once. "Because they both carry trunks."

  "But—but—but—but—" the King protested. "These are not the answers I expected. You really must try to be more serious."

  "I can't help what you expected," said the Cat. "These are the proper replies to your questions, as any cat will tell you."

  The King made an angry click with his tongue.

 
"This nonsense is getting beyond a joke! It's a farce! It's nothing but twiddle-twaddle. Well, here is my third question—ijvou can answer it."

  You could see by the smile on the King's face that this time he thought he had the Cat exactly where he wanted it.

  He held up a pompous hand and began.

  "If a dozen men, working eight hours a day, had to dig a hole ten-and-a-half miles deep—how long would it be, including Sundays, before they put down their spades?"

  The King's eyes shone with a cunning sparkle. He gazed at the Cat with a look of triumph. But the Cat had its answer ready.

  "Two seconds," it said quickly, with a little flick of its tail.

  "Two seconds! Are you mad? The answer's in years!" The King rubbed his hands together with glee at the thought of the Cat's mistake.

  "I repeat," said the Cat. "It would take them two seconds. To dig such a hole would be utterly foolish. 'Ten miles deep?' they would say. 'Why, what on earth for?'"

  "That isn't the point," the King said angrily.

  "But every question must have a point. A point is exactly what questions are for. And now," said the Cat, "it's my turn, I believe!"

  The King gave an angry shrug of his shoulders.

  "Well, be quick. You've wasted enough of my time!"

  "My questions are short and very simple," the Cat assured him. "A cat could solve them in a flick of the whisker. Let us hope that a King will be equally clever. Now, here is my first. How high is the sky?"

  The King gave a grunt of satisfaction. This was exactly the kind of question he liked, and he smiled a knowing smile.

  "Well, of course," he began, "it all depends. If you measured it from a level plain it would be one height. From the top of a mountain another. And after taking this into account, we should have to determine the latitude and longitude, the amplitude, magnitude and multitude, not forgetting the atmospherics, mathematics, acrobatics and hysterics; and the general depressions, expressions, impressions and confessions, together with——"

  "Excuse me," interrupted the Cat. "But that is not the answer. TVy again, please. How high is the sky?"