Mary Poppins in the Park

by P. L. Travers

  "You'll be looking sad in a minute—unless you get ready for lunch!"

  Mary Poppins' face was so like her voice that they ran to obey her without a word.

  But they caught a glimpse, as they rushed away, of her starched white figure standing there, with its arms full of crumpled paper. She was gazing with a reflective smile at Miss Andrew's broken treasure—and it seemed to them that her lips moved.

  Michael gave Jane a fleeting grin.

  "I expect she's only saying 'Humph!'"

  But Jane was not so sure....

  "Let's go to the swings," suggested Michael, as they hurried across the Lane after lunch.

  "Oh, no! The Lake. I'm tired of swinging."

  "Neither swings nor lakes," said Mary Poppins. "We are taking the Long Walk!"

  "Oh, Mary Poppins," grumbled Jane, "the Long Walk's far too long!"

  "I can't walk all that way," said Michael. "I've eaten much too much."

  The Long Walk stretched across the Park from the Lane to the Far Gate, linking the little countrified road to the busy streets they had travelled that morning. It was wide and straight and uncompromising—not like the narrow, curly paths that led to the Lake and the Playground. Trees and fountains bordered it, but it always seemed to Jane and Michael at least ten miles in length.

  "The Long Walk—or the short walk home! Take your choice!" Mary Poppins warned them.

  Michael was just about to say he would go home, when Jane ran on ahead.

  "I'll race you," she cried, "to the first tree!"

  Michael could never bear to be beaten. "That's not fair! You had a good start!" And off he dashed at her heels.

  "Don't expect me to keep up with you! I am not a centipede!"

  Mary Poppins sauntered along, enjoying the balmy air, and assuring herself that the balmy air was enjoying Mary Poppins. How could it do otherwise, she thought, when under her arm was the parrot-umbrella and over her wrist a new black handbag?

  The perambulator creaked and groaned. In it, the Twins and Annabel, packed as close as birds in a nest, were playing with the blue duck.

  "That's cheating, Michael!" grumbled Jane. For accidentally on purpose, he had pushed her aside and was running past.

  From tree to tree they raced along, first one ahead and then the other, each of them trying to win. The Long Walk streamed away behind them and Mary Poppins and the perambulator were only specks in the distance.

  "Next time you push me I'll give you a punch!" said Michael, red in the face.

  "If you bump into me again I'll pull your hair, Michael!"

  "Now, now!" the Park Keeper warned them sternly. "Observe the rules! No argle-bargling!"

  He was meant to be sweeping up the twigs but, instead, he was chatting with the Policeman, who was leaning against a maple-tree, whiling away his time.

  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 Far Gate.

  The Park Keeper looked at them severely. "Always argufying!" he said. "I never did that when I was a boy. But then I was a Nonly child, just me and me poor old mother. I never 'ad nobody to play with. You two don't know when you're lucky!"

  "Well, I dunno!" the Policeman said. "Depends on how you look at it. I had someone to play with, you might say, but it never did me any good!"

  "Brothers or sisters?" Jane enquired, all her crossness vanishing. She liked the Policeman very much. And today he seemed to remind her of someone, but she couldn't think who it was.

  "Brothers!" the Policeman informed her, without enthusiasm.

  "Older or younger?" Michael asked. Where, he wondered to himself, had he seen another face like that?

  "Same age," replied the Policeman flatly.

  "Then you must have been twins, like John and Barbara!"

  "I was triplets," the Policeman said.

  "How lovely!" cried Jane, with a sigh of envy.

  "Well, it wasn't so lovely, not to my mind. The opposite, I'd say. 'Egbert,' my mother was always asking, 'why don't you play with Herbert and Albert?' But it wasn't me—it was them that wouldn't. All they wanted was to go to the Zoo, and when they came back they'd be animals—tigers tearing about the house and letting on it was Timbuctoo or around the Gobi Desert. I never wanted to be a tiger. I liked playing bus-conductors and keeping things neat and tidy."

  "Like er!" The Park Keeper waved to a distant fountain where Mary Poppins was leaning over to admire the set of her hat.

  "Like her," agreed the Policeman, nodding. "Or," he said, grinning, "that nice Miss Ellen."

  "Ellen's not neat," protested Michael. "Her hair straggles and her feet are too big."

  "And when they grew up," demanded Jane, "what did Herbert and Albert do?" She liked to hear the end of a story.

  "Do?" said the Policeman, very surprised. "What one triplet does, the others do. They joined the police, of course!"

  "But I thought you were all so different!"

  "We were and we are!" the Policeman argued. "Seeing as how I stayed in London and they went off to distant lands. Wanted to be near the jungle, they said, and mix with giraffes and leopards. One of 'em—Herbert—he never came back. Just sent a note saying not to worry. 'I'm happy,' he said, 'and I feel at home!' And after that, never a word—not even a card at Christmas."

  "And what about Albert?" the children prompted.

  "Ah—Albert—yes! He did come back. After he met with his accident."

  "What accident?" they wanted to know. They were burning with curiosity.

  "Lorst his foot," the Policeman answered. "Wouldn't say how, or why or where. Just got himself a wooden one and never smiled again. Now he works on the traffic signals. Sits in his box and pines away. And sometimes——" The Policeman lowered his voice. "Sometimes he forgets the lights. Leaves them at red for a whole day till London's at a standstill!"

  Michael gave an excited skip. "He must be the one we passed this morning, in the box by the Far Gate!"

  "That's him all right!" The Policeman nodded.

  "But what is he pining for?" asked Jane. She wanted every detail.

  "For the jungle, he keeps on telling me. He says he's got a friend there!"

  "A funny place to 'ave a friend!" The Park Keeper glanced around the Park to see that all was in order.

  "T'chah!" he exclaimed disgustedly. "That's Wil-lerby up to 'is tricks again! Look at 'im sittin' up there on the wall! Come down out of that! Remember the bye-laws! No dogs allowed on the Park Wall. I shall 'ave to speak to Miss Lark," he muttered, "feedin 'im all that dainty food! 'E's twice the size he was yesterday!"

  "That's not Willoughby!" said Michael. "It's a much, much larger dog."

  "It isn't a dog at all!" cried Jane. "It's a——"

  "Lumme! You're right!" The Policeman stared. "It's not a dog—it's a lion!"

  "Oh, what shall I do?" wailed the Park Keeper. "Nothing like this ever 'appened before, not even when I was a boy!"

  "Go and get someone from the Zoo—it must have escaped from there! Here, you two——" the Policeman cried. He caught the children and swung them up to the top of a near-by fountain. "You stay there while I head him off!"

  "Observe the rules!" shrieked the Park Keeper. "No lions allowed in the Park!" He gave one look at the tawny shape and ran in the opposite direction.

  The Lion swung his head about, glancing along Cherry Tree Lane and then across the lawns. Then he leapt from the wall with a swift movement and made for the Long Walk. His curly mane blew out in the breeze like a large lacy collar.

  "Take care!" cried Jane to the Policeman, as he darted forward with arms outspread. It would be sad indeed, she felt, if that manly figure were gobbled up.

  "Gurrrr!" the Policeman shouted fiercely.

  His voice was so loud and full of warning that everyone in the Park was startled.

  Miss Lark, who was knitting by the Lake, came hurrying to the Long Walk with her dogs in close attendance.

  "Such a
commotion!" she twittered shrilly. "Whatever is the matter? Oh!" she cried, running round in a circle. "What shall I do? It's a wild beast! Send for the Prime Minister!"

  "Get up a tree!" the Policeman yelled, shaking his fist at the Lion.

  "Which tree? Oh, how undignified!"

  "That one!" screamed Michael, waving his hand.

  Gulping and panting, Miss Lark climbed up, her hair catching in every twig and her knitting wool winding around her legs.

  "Andrew and Willoughby, come up, please!" she called down, anxiously. But the dogs were not going to lose their heads. They composed themselves at the foot of the tree and waited to see what would happen.

  By this time everyone in the Park had become aware of the Lion. Terrified shouts rang through the air as people swung themselves into the branches or hid behind seats or statues.

  "Call out the Firemen!" they all cried. "Tell the Lord Mayor! Send for a rope!"

  But the Lion noticed none of them. He crossed the lawn in enormous leaps, making direct for the blue serge shape of the Officer of the Law.

  "Gurrrr, I said!" the Policeman roared, taking out his baton.

  The Lion merely tossed his head and flung himself into a crouching position. A ripple ran through all his muscles as he made ready to spring.

  "Oh, save him, somebody!" cried Jane, with an anxious glance at the manly figure.

  "Help!" screamed a voice from every tree.

  "Prime Minister!" cried Miss Lark again.

  And then the Lion sprang. He sped like an arrow through the air and landed beside the big black boots.

  "Be off, I say!" the Policeman shouted, in a last protesting cry.

  But as he spoke a strange thing happened. The Lion rolled over on his back and waved his legs in the air.

  "Just like a kitten," whispered Michael. But he held Jane's hand a little tighter.

  "Away with you!" the Policeman bellowed, waving his baton again.

  But as though the words were as sweet as music, the Lion put out a long red tongue and licked the Policeman's boots.

  "Stop it, I tell you! Get along off!"

  But the Lion only wagged its tail and, springing up on its hind legs, it clasped the blue serge jacket.

  "Help! Oh, help!" the Policeman gasped.

  "Coming!" croaked a hoarse voice, as the Park Keeper crawled to the edge of the Walk with an empty litter-basket over his head.

  Beside him crept a small thin man with a butterfly net in his hand.

  "I brought the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens!" the Park Keeper hissed at the Policeman. "Go on!" he urged the little man. "It's your property—take it away!"

  The Keeper of the Zoological Gardens darted behind a fountain. He took a careful look at the Lion as it hugged the dark blue waist.

  "Not one of ours!" He shook his head. "It's far too red and curly. Seems to know you!" he called to the Policeman. "What are you—a lion tamer?"

  "Never saw him before in my life!" The head in the helmet turned aside.

  The Lion ... clasped the blue serge jacket

  "Oh, wurra! wurra!" the Lion growled, in a voice that held a note of reproach.

  "Will nobody send for the Prime Minister?" Miss Lark's voice shrilled from her maple bough.

  "I have been sent for, my dear madam!" a voice observed from the next tree. An elderly gentleman in striped trousers was scrambling into the branches.

  "Then do something!" ordered Miss Lark, in a frenzy.

  "Shoo!" said the Prime Minister earnestly, waving his hat at the Lion.

  But the Lion bared its teeth in a grin as it hugged the Policeman closer.

  "Now, what's the trouble? Who sent for me?" cried a loud impatient voice.

  The Lord Mayor hurried along the Walk with his Aldermen at his heels.

  "Good gracious! What are you doing, Smith?" He stared in disgust at the Park Keeper. "Come out of that basket and stand up straight! It is there to be used for litter, Smith, and not some foolish game."

  "I'm usin' it for armour, your Worship! There's a lion in the Park!"

  "A lion, Smith? What nonsense you talk! The lions are in the Zoo!"

  "A lion?" echoed the Aldermen. "Ha, ha! What a silly story!"

  "It's true!" yelled Jane and Michael at once. "Look out! He's just behind you!"

  The three portly figures turned, and their faces grew pale as marble.

  The Lord Mayor waved a feeble hand at the trembling Aldermen.

  "Get me water! Wine! Hot milk!" he moaned.

  But for once the Aldermen disobeyed. Hot milk, indeed! they seemed to say as they dragged him to the Prime Minister's tree and pushed him into the branches.

  "Police! Police!" the Lord Mayor cried, catching hold of a bough.

  "I'm here, your Honour!" the Policeman panted, pushing away a tawny paw.

  But the Lion took this for a mark of affection.

  "Gurrrrumph!" he said in a husky voice, as he clasped the Policeman tighter.

  "Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" Miss Lark wailed. "Has nobody got a gun?"

  "A dagger! A sword! A crowbar!" cried the voices from every tree.

  The Park was ringing with shouts and screams. The Park Keeper rattled his stick on the litter-basket. "Yoo-hoo!" cried the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens to distract the Lion's attention. The Lion was growling. The Policeman was yelling. The Lord Mayor and the Aldermen were still crying "Police!"

  Then suddenly a silence fell. And a neat, trim figure appeared on the path. Straight on she came, as a ship into port, with the perambulator wheeling before her and the tulip standing up stiff on her hat.

  Creak went the wheels.

  Tap went her shoes.

  And the watching faces grew pale with horror as she tripped towards the Lion.

  "Go back, Mary Poppins!" screamed Miss Lark, breaking the awful silence. "Save yourself and the little ones! There's a wild beast down on the path!"

  Mary Poppins looked up at Miss Lark's face as it hung like a fruit among the leaves.

  "Go back? When I've only just come out?" She smiled a superior smile.

  "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.

  "I am taking care of these children, thank you. And as for the wild beasts——" She gave a sniff. "They seem to be all in the trees!"

  "It's a lion, Mary Poppins, look!" Michael pointed a trembling finger—and she turned and beheld the two locked figures.

  The Policeman now was ducking sideways to prevent the Lion licking his cheek. His helmet was off and his face was pale, but he still had a plucky look in his eye.

  "I might have known it!" said Mary Poppins, as she stared at the curious pair. "Rover!" she called in exasperation. "What do you think you're doing?"

  From under his lacy, flopping mane the Lion pricked up an ear.

  "Rover!" she called again. "Down, I say!"

  The Lion gave one look at her and dropped with a thud to the ground. Then he gave a little throaty growl and bounded away towards her.

  "Oh, the Twins! He'll eat them! Help!" cried Jane.

  But the Lion hardly looked at the Twins. He was fawning at Mary Poppins. He rolled his eyes and wagged his tail and arched himself against her skirt. Then away he rushed to the Policeman, seized the blue trousers between his teeth and tugged them towards the perambulator.

  "Don't be so silly!" said Mary Poppins. "Do as I tell you! Let him go! You've got the wrong one."

  The Lion loosed the trouser-leg and rolled his eyes in surprise.

  "Do you mean," the Prime Minister called from his bough, "he's to eat another Policeman?"

  Mary Poppins made no reply. Instead, she fished inside her handbag and brought out a silver whistle. Then, setting it daintily to her lips, she puffed out her cheeks and blew.

  "Why—I could have blown my whistle"—the Policeman stared at the silver shape—"if only I'd thought of it."

  She turne
d upon him a look of scorn. "The trouble with you is that you don't think. Neither do you!" she snapped at the Lion.

  He hung his head between his paws and looked very hurt and foolish.

  "You don't listen, either," she added severely. "In at one ear and out of the next. There was no need to make such a foolish mistake."

  The Lion's tail crept between his legs.

  "You're careless, thoughtless and inattentive. You ought to be thoroughly ashamed of yourself."

  The Lion gave a humble snuffle as though he agreed with her.

  "Who whistled?" called a voice from the Gate. "Who summoned an Officer of the Law?"

  Along the Walk came another policeman, limping unevenly. His face had a melancholy look, as though he possessed a secret sorrow.

  "I can't stay long whatever it is," he said, as he reached the group. "I left the lights when I heard the whistle and I must get back to them. Why, Egbert!" he said to the First Policeman, "what's the matter with you?"

  "Oh, nothing to complain of, Albert! I've just been attacked by a lion!"

  "Lion?" The sad face grew a shade more cheerful as the Second Policeman glanced about him. "Oh, what a beauty!" he exclaimed, limping towards the tawny shape at Mary Poppins' side.

  Jane turned to whisper in Michael's ear.

  "He must be the Policeman's brother—the one with the wooden foot!"

  "Nice lion! Pretty lion!" said the Second Policeman softly.

  And the Lion, at the sound of his voice, leapt to his feet with a roar.

  "Now gently, gently! Be a good lion. He's an elegant fellow, so he is!" the Second Policeman crooned.

  Then he put back the mane from the Lion's brow and met the golden eyes. A shudder of joy ran through his frame.

  "Rover! My dear old friend! It's you!" He flung out his arms with a loving gesture and the Lion rushed into them.

  "Oh, Rover! After all these years!" the Second Policeman sobbed.

  "Wurra, wurra!" the Lion growled, licking the tears away.

  And for a whole minute it was nothing but Rover—Wurra, Rover—Wurra, while they hugged and kissed each other.

  "But how did you get here? How did you find me?" demanded the Second Policeman.

  "Woof! Burrrum!" replied the Lion, nodding towards the perambulator.

  "No! You don't say! How very kind! We must always be grateful, Rover! And if I can do you a good turn, Miss Poppins——"