"It means my daughters!" a small voice screeched, as a shape emerged from the shadows. "So long, so wide, so huge, so stupid — the great Gallumping Giraffes."
And there on the path stood Mrs. Corry with her coat all covered with threepenny-bits. And behind her, Fannie and Annie stalked, like a pair of mournful giants.
"Well, here we are again!" shrieked Mrs. Corry, as she grinned at the staring children. "H'm! Growing up fast, aren't they, Mary Poppins? I can see that they won't need you much longer!"
Mary Poppins gave a nod of agreement as Michael, with a cry of protest, rushed to her side.
"We'll always need her — always!" he cried, hugging Mary Poppins' waist so tightly that he felt her strong hard bones.
She glared at him like an angry panther.
"Kindly do not crush me, Michael! I am not a Sardine in a Tin!"
"Well, I just came to have a word with you," Mrs. Corry cackled on. "An old word, Mary, and one that is best said quickly. As I used to tell Solomon when he was making that fuss about the Queen of Sheba — if you've got to say it sometime, why not now?" Mrs. Corry looked searchingly at Mary Poppins. Then she added softly, "Good-bye, my dear!"
"Are you going away, too?" Michael demanded, as he stared at Mrs. Corry.
She gave a merry shriek of laughter. "Well — yes, I am, in a manner of speaking! Once one goes they all go — that's the way of it. Now, Fannie and Annie—" she glanced around, "what have you idiots done with those presents?"
"Here, Mother!" the sisters answered nervously. And the huge hands dropped into Mary Poppins' palm two tiny pieces of gingerbread. One was shaped like a heart and the other like a star.
Mary Poppins gave a cry of delight.
"Why, Mrs. Corry! What a surprise! This is a TVeat as well as a Pleasure!"
"Oh, it's nothing. Just a Souvenir." Mrs. Corry airily waved her hand, and her little elastic-sided boots danced along beside the perambulator.
"All your friends seem to be here tonight!" remarked Michael to Mary Poppins.
"Well, what do you think I am — a Hermit? I suppose I can see my friends when I like!"
"I was only remarking—" he began, when a glad shriek interrupted him.
"Why, Albert — if it isn't you!" cried Mrs. Corry gaily. And she ran to meet a roly-poly figure that was hurrying towards them. The children gave a shout of joy as they recognized Mr. Wigg.
"Well, Bless my Boots. It's Clara Corry!" cried Mr. Wigg, shaking her hand affectionately.
"I didn't know you knew each other!" exclaimed Jane, looking very surprised.
"What you don't know would fill a Dictionary," Mary Poppins broke in with a snort.
"Know each other? Why, we were children together — weren't we, Albert?" cried Mrs. Corry.
Mr. Wigg chuckled. "Ah, the good old days!" he answered cheerily. "Well, how are you, Mary, my girl?"
"Nicely, thank you, Uncle Albert. Mustn't complain," replied Mary Poppins.
"I thought I'd step up for One Last Word. Pleasant trip and all that. It's a nice night for it." Mr. Wigg glanced round at the clear blue dusk that was creeping through the Park.
"A nice night for what?" demanded Michael. He hoped Mary Poppins would not be lonely with her friends going off like this. But, after all, he thought to himself — she's still got me and what more could she want?
"A nice night to go sailing — that's what it's for!" roared Admiral Boom in his rollicking voice. He was striding through the trees towards them, singing as he came:
"Sailing, sailing, over the Bounding Main,
And many a stormy Wind shall blow
Till we come home again!
Sailing, sailing—"
"Ahoy there, lubbers! Hoist the mainsail! Up with the anchor and let her go. For away I'm bound to go — oho! — 'cross the wide Missouri!" He blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn and looked at Mary Poppins.
"All aboard?" he enquired gruffly, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"All aboard, Sir," she answered primly, and she gave him a curious look.
"Hrrrrrrrrmph! Well—
"I'll be true to my love,
If my Love will be tru-ue to me!"
he sang, in a voice that was almost gentle. "Here—" he broke off. "Port and Starboard! Cockles and Whelks! You can't do that to a Sailor!"
"Balloons and Balloons!" cried a high-pitched voice as a little shape went whizzing past and knocked off the Admiral's hat.
It was the Balloon Woman. One small balloon flew from her hand. It bounced her upon the end of its string and swept her away through the shadows.
"Good-bye and Good-bye, my Dearie Duck!" she called as she disappeared.
"There she goes — off like a streak of lightning!" cried Jane, gazing after her.
"Well, she's certainly not a creeping Snail, like some people I could mention! Kindly walk up!" said Mary Poppins. "I haven't all night to waste!"
"I should think not!" Mrs. Corry said, grinning.
They walked up. For once they were eager to do anything she told them. They put their hands on the perambulator beside her black-gloved fingers. And the blue dusk lapped them round like a river as they hurried along with the chattering group.
They were nearly at the Park Gates now. The Lane stretched darkly in front of them and from it came a strain of music. Jane and Michael looked at each other. What could it be? said their upraised brows. Then their curiosity got the better of them. They wanted to stay with Mary Poppins but they also wanted to see what was happening. They gave one glance at her dark blue figure and then began to run.
"Oh, look!" cried Jane, as she reached the Gate. "It's Mr. Twigley with a Hurdy-gurdy!"
And Mr. Twigley it was indeed, drawing a sweet wild tune from the box as he busily turned the handle. Beside him stood a small bright figure that was vaguely familiar.
"And all of them made of the Finest Sugar," it was saying gaily to Mr. Twigley as the children crossed the road. Then, of course, they knew who it was.
"Stare, stare,
Like a Bear,
Then you'll know me
Everywhere!"
chanted Miss Calico cheerfully, as she waved her hand towards them.
"Could you move your feet a bit, please, kids! You're standing on one of my roses!"
Bert, the Matchman, crouched on the pavement, right at their own front gate. He was drawing a large bouquet of flowers in coloured chalks on the asphalt. Ellen and the Policeman were watching him. And Miss Lark and her dogs were listening to the music as they stood outside Next Door.
"Wait a minute," she cried to Mr. Twigley, "while I run in and get you a shilling!"
Mr. Twigley smiled his twinkly smile and shook his head gently.
"Don't bother, ma'am," he advised Miss Lark. "A shilling would be no use to me. I'm doing it All for Love." And the children saw him lift his eyes and exchange a look with Mary Poppins as she strode out of the Park. He wound the handle with all his might and the tune grew louder and quicker.
"One Forget-me-not — and then it's finished," the Matchman murmured to himself as he added a flower to the bunch.
"That's dainty, Bert!" said Mary Poppins admiringly. She had pushed the perambulator up behind him and was gazing at the picture. He sprang to his feet with a little cry and, plucking the bouquet from the pavement, he pressed it into her hand.
"They're yours, Mary," he told her shyly. "I drew them all for you!"
"Did you really, Bert?" she said with a smile. "Well, I just don't know how to thank you!" She hid her blushing face in the flowers and the children could smell the scent of roses.
The Matchman looked at her glowing eyes and smiled a loving smile.
"It's tonight — isn't it, Mary?" he said.
"Yes, Bert," she said, nodding, as she gave him her hand. The Matchman looked at it sadly for a moment. Then he bent his head and kissed it.
"Good-bye, then, Mary!" they heard him whisper.
And she answered softly, "Good-bye, Bert!"
> "What is all this about tonight?" demanded Michael, inquisitively.
"Tonight is the happiest night of my life!" said Miss Lark as she listened to the Hurdy-gurdy. "I never heard such beautiful music. It makes my feet simply twinkle!"
"Well, let 'em twinkle with mine!" roared the Admiral. And he snatched Miss Lark away from her gate and polka-ed along the Lane.
"Oh, Admiral!" they heard her cry, as he swung her round and round.
"Lovey-dovey-cat's-eyes!" cooed Mrs. Turvy. And Mr. Turvy, looking very embarrassed, allowed her to dance him round.
"Wot about it — eh?" the Policeman smirked, and before Ellen had time to blow her nose, he had whirled her into the dance.
One, two, three! One, two, three! High and sweet, the music flowed from the Hurdy-gurdy. The street lamps blazed with sudden brightness and speckled the Lane with light and shadow. One, two, three, went Miss Calico's feet, as she danced alone beside Mr. Twigley. It was such a wild and merry tune that Jane and Michael could stand still no longer. Off they darted and one, two, three, their feet went tapping on the echoing road.
"'Ere! Wot's all this? Observe the Rules! We can't 'ave dancing in Public Places! Move on, now, don't obstruct the traffic!" The Park Keeper, goggling as usual, came threading his way through the Lane.
"Mercy me and a Jumping Bean! You're just the man I want!" shrieked Miss Calico. And before the Park Keeper knew where he was, she had swung him into the mazy dance where he gulped and gaped and twirled.
"Round we go, Clara!" cried Mr. Wigg, swinging past with Mrs. Corry.
"I used to do this with Henry the Eighth — and oh, what a time we had!" she shrieked. "Get along, clum-sies! Keep your feet to yourselves!" she added, in a different voice, to Fannie and Annie who were dancing together like a pair of gloomy elephants.
"I've never been so happy before!" came Miss Lark's excited cry.
"You should go to sea, my dear Lucinda! Everyone's happy at sea!" roared the Admiral, as he polka-ed madly along.
"I do believe I will," she replied.
And her two dogs looked at each other aghast and hoped she would change her mind.
Deeper and deeper grew the dusk as the dancers whirled in a ring. And there in the centre stood Mary Poppins with her flowers clasped in her hands. She rocked the perambulator gently and her foot beat time with the music. The Matchman watched her from the pavement.
Straight and stiff she stood there, smiling, and her eyes went roving from one to the other — Miss Lark and the Admiral, the Topsy-TUrvies; the two Noahs rolling around on their discs; Miss Calico clutching the Park Keeper; Mrs. Corry in the arms of Mr. Wigg; and Mrs. Corry's big daughters. Then her bright glance fell on the two young children who were dancing round in the ring. She looked at them for a long, long moment, watching their bright enchanted faces and their arms going out to each other.
And there in the centre stood Mary Poppins
And suddenly, as though they felt that look upon them, they stopped in the middle of their dance and ran to her, laughing and breathless.
"Mary Poppins!" they both cried, pressing against her. Then they found they had nothing else to say. Her name seemed to be enough.
She put her arms about their shoulders and looked into their eyes. It was a long, deep, searching look that plunged right down to their very hearts and saw what was there. Then she smiled to herself and turned away. She took her parrot-headed umbrella from the perambulator and gathered Annabel into her arms.
"I must go in now, Jane and Michael! You two can bring the Twins later."
They nodded, still panting from the dance.
"Now, be good children!" she said quietly. "And remember all I have told you."
They smiled at her reassuringly. What a funny thing to say, they thought. As if they would dare forget!
She gave the Twins' curls a gentle rumple; she buttoned up Michael's coat at the neck and straightened Jane's collar.
"Now, spit-spot and away we go!" she cried gaily to Annabel.
Then off she tripped through the garden-gate, with the baby, the flowers and the parrot umbrella held lightly in her arms. Up the steps went the prim, trim figure, walking with a jaunty air as though she was thoroughly pleased with herself.
"Farewell, Mary Poppins!" the dancers cried, as she paused at the Front Door.
She glanced back over her shoulder and nodded. Then the Hurdy-gurdy gave a loud sweet peal and the Front Door closed behind her.
Jane shivered as the music ceased. Perhaps it was the frost in the air that made her feel so lonely.
"We'll wait till all the people leave and then we'll go in," she said.
She glanced around at the group of dancers. They were standing still upon the pavement and seemed to be waiting for something. For every face was gazing upwards at Number Seventeen.
"What can they be looking at?" said Michael, as he craned his own head backwards.
Then a glow appeared at the Nursery windows and a dark shape moved across it. The children knew it was Mary Poppins, lighting the evening fire. And presently the flames sprang up. They sparkled on the window-panes and shone through the darkening garden. Higher and higher leapt the blaze, brighter and brighter the windows gleamed. Then suddenly they saw the Nursery reflected upon Miss Lark's side wall. There it gleamed, high above the garden, with its sparkling fire and the mantelpiece and the old armchair and—
"The Door! The Door!" A breathless cry went up from the crowd in the Lane.
What door? Jane and Michael stared at each other. And suddenly — they knew!
"Oh, Michael! It isn't her friends who are going away!" cried Jane in an anguished voice. "It's — oh, hurry, hurry! We must go and find her!"
With trembling hands they hauled out the Twins and dragged them through the gate. They tore at the Front Door, rushed upstairs and burst into the Nursery.
Their faces fell as they stared at the room, for everything in it was as quiet and peaceful as it had always been. The fire was crackling behind its bars and, cosily tucked inside her cot, Annabel was softly cooing. The bricks they had used for the morning's Castle were neatly piled in a corner. And beside them lay the precious box of Mary Poppins' dominoes.
"Oh!" they panted, surprised and puzzled to find everything just the same.
Everything? No! There was one thing missing.
"The camp bed!" Michael cried. "It's gone! Then — where is Mary Poppins?"
He ran to the bathroom and out on the landing and back to the Nursery again.
"Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins!"
Then Jane glanced up from the fire to the window and gave a little cry.
"Oh, Michael, Michael! There she is! And there is the Other Door!"
He followed the line of her pointing finger and his mouth opened wide.
For there, on the outer side of the window, another Nursery glimmered. It stretched from Number Seventeen to the wall of Miss Lark's house; and everything in the real Nursery was reflected in that shining room. There was Annabel's gleaming cot and the table made of light. There was the fire, leaping up in mid-air; and there, at last, was the Other Door, exactly the same as the one behind them. It shimmered like a panel of light at the other side of the garden. Beside it stood their own reflections and towards it, along the airy floor, tripped the figure of Mary Poppins. She carried the carpet bag in her hand; and the Matchman's flowers and the parrot umbrella were tucked beneath her arm. Away she stalked through the Nursery's reflection, away through the shimmering likenesses of the old familiar things. And as she went, the daisies nodded on the crown of her black straw hat.
A loud cry burst from Michael's mouth as he rushed towards the window.
Away she stalked through the Nursery's reflection
"Mary Poppins!" he cried. "Come back! Come back!"
Behind him the Twins began to grizzle.
"Oh, please, Mary Poppins, come back to us!" called Jane, from the window-seat.
But Mary Poppins took no notice. She strode o
n swiftly towards the Door that shimmered in the air.
"She won't get anywhere that way!" said Michael. "It will only lead to Miss Lark's wall."
But even as he spoke, Mary Poppins reached the Other Door and pulled it wide open. A gasp of surprise went up from the children. For the wall they had expected to see had entirely disappeared. Beyond Mary Poppins' straight blue figure there was nothing but field on field of sky, and the dark spreading night.
"Come back, Mary Poppins!" they cried together, in a last despairing wail.
And as though she had heard them, she paused for a minute, with one foot on the threshold. The starfish sparkled on her collar as she glanced back swiftly towards the Nursery. She smiled at the four sad watching faces and waved her bouquet of flowers. Then she snapped the parrot umbrella open and stepped out into the night.
The umbrella wobbled for a moment and the light from the fire shone full upon it as it swayed in the air. Then, with a bound, as though glad to be free, it soared away through the sky. Up, up went Mary Poppins with it, tightly holding the parrot handle as she cleared the tops of the trees. And as she went, the Hurdy-gurdy broke out with a peal of music, as loud and proud and triumphant as any wedding march.
Back in the Nursery the great blaze faded and sank into crimson coals. The flames went down and with them went the shining other room. Soon there was nothing to be seen but the Cherry-Trees waving through the air and the blank brick wall of Miss Lark's house.
But above the roof a bright form rose, flying higher every minute. It seemed to have gathered into itself the sparkle and flame of the fire. For it glowed like a little core of light in the black frosty sky.
Leaning upon the window-seat, the four children watched it. Their cheeks lay heavily in their hands and their hearts were heavy within their breasts. They did not try to explain it to themselves, for they knew there were things about Mary Poppins that could never be explained. Where she had come from nobody knew, and where she was going they could not guess. They were certain only of one thing — that she had kept her promise. She had stayed with them till the Door opened and then she had left them. And they could not tell if they would ever see that trim shape again.
Mary Poppins Opens the Door mp-3 Page 15
