Mary Poppins Comes Back mp-2

by P. L. Travers

  But when they caught up with her she kept them waiting for quite five minutes outside a fried-fish shop while she looked at herself in the window.

  She was wearing her new white blouse with the pink spots and her face, as she beheld herself reflected back from the piles of fried whiting, had a pleased and satisfied air. She pushed back her coat a little so that more of the blouse was visible, and she thought that, on the whole, she had never seen Mary Poppins look nicer. Even the fried fish, with their fried tails curled into their mouths, seemed to gaze at her with round admiring eyes.

  Mary Poppins gave a little conceited nod to her reflection and hurried on. They had passed the High Street now and were crossing the Bridge. Soon they came to the Railway Arch and Jane and Michael sprang eagerly ahead of the perambulator and ran all the way until they turned the corner of Cherry Tree Lane.

  "There's a cab," cried Michael excitedly. "That must be Miss Andrew's."

  They stood still at the corner waiting for Mary Poppins and watching for Miss Andrew.

  A Taxi-cab, moving slowly down the Lane, drew up at the gate of Number Seventeen. It groaned and rattled as the engine stopped. And this was not surprising for from wheel to roof it was heavily weighted with luggage. You could hardly see the cab itself for the trunks on the roof and the trunks at the back and the trunks on either side.

  Suit-cases and hampers could be seen half in and half out of the windows. Hat-boxes were strapped to the steps and two large Gladstone bags appeared to be sitting in the Driver's seat.

  Presently the Driver himself emerged from under them. He climbed out carefully as though he were descending a steep mountain, and opened the door.

  A boot-box came bounding out, followed by a large brown-paper parcel and after these came an umbrella and a walking-stick tied together with string. Last of all a small weighing-machine clattered down from the rack, knocking the Taxi-man down.

  "Be careful! Be careful!" a huge, trumpeting voice shouted from inside the Taxi. "This is valuable luggage!"

  "And I'm a valuable driver!" retorted the Taxi-man, picking himself up and rubbing his ankle. "You seem to 'ave forgotten that, 'aven't you?"

  "Make way, please, make way! I'm coming out!" called the huge voice again.

  And at that moment there appeared on the step of the cab the largest foot the children had ever seen. It was followed by the rest of Miss Andrew.

  A large coat with a fur collar was wrapped about her, a man's felt hat was perched on her head and from the hat floated a long grey veil.

  The children crept cautiously along by the fence, gazing with interest at the huge figure, with its beaked nose, grim mouth and small eyes that peered angrily from behind glasses. They were almost deafened by her voice as she argued with the Taxi-man.

  "Four and threepence!" she was saying. "Preposterous! I could go half-way round the world for that amount. I shan't pay it! And I shall report you to the Police."

  The Taxi-man shrugged his shoulders. "That's the fare," he said calmly. "If you can read, you can read it on the meter. You can't go driving in a Taxi for love, you know, not with this luggage."

  Miss Andrew snorted and, diving her hand into her large pocket took out a very small purse. She handed over a coin. The Taxi-man looked at it, turned it over and over in his hand as if he thought it a curiosity. Then he laughed rudely.

  "This for the Driver?" he remarked sarcastically.

  "Certainly not. It's your fare. I don't approve of tips," said Miss Andrew.

  "You wouldn't," said the Taxi-man, staring at her.

  And to himself he remarked—"Enough luggage to fill 'arf the Park and she doesn't approve of tips — the 'Arpy!"

  But Miss Andrew did not hear him. The children had arrived at the gate and she turned to greet them, her feet ringing on the pavement and the veil flowing out behind her.

  "Well?" she said gruffly, smiling a thin smile. "I don't suppose you know who I am?"

  "Oh, yes we do!" said Michael. He spoke in his friendliest voice for he was very glad to meet Miss Andrew. "You're the Holy Terror!"

  A dark purple flush rose up from Miss Andrew's neck and flooded her face.

  "You are a very rude, impertinent boy. I shall report you to your Father!"

  Michael looked surprised. "I didn't mean to be rude," he began. "It was Daddy who said—"

  "Tut! Silence! Don't dare to argue with me!" said Miss Andrew. She turned to Jane.

  "And you're Jane, I suppose? H'm. I never cared for the name."

  "How do you do?" said Jane, politely, but secretly thinking she did not care much for the name Euphemia.

  "That dress is much too short!" trumpeted Miss Andrew, "and you ought to be wearing stockings. Little girls in my day never had bare legs. I shall speak to your Mother."

  "I don't like stockings," said Jane. "I only wear them in the Winter."

  "Don't be impudent. Children should be seen and not heard!" said Miss Andrew.

  She leant over the perambulator and with her huge hand, pinched the Twins' cheeks in greeting.

  John and Barbara began to cry.

  "Tut! What manners!" exclaimed Miss Andrew. "Brimstone and treacle — that's what they need!" she went on, turning to Mary Poppins. "No well-brought-up child cries like that. Brimstone and treacle, And plenty of it. Don't forget!"

  "Thank you, ma'am," said Mary Poppins with icy politeness. "But I bring the children up in my own way and take advice from nobody."

  Miss Andrew stared. She looked as if she could not believe her ears.

  Mary Poppins stared back, calm and unafraid.

  "Young woman!" said Miss Andrew, drawing herself up. "You forget yourself. How dare you answer me like that! I shall take steps to have you removed from this establishment! Mark my words!"

  She flung open the gate and strode up the path, furiously swinging the circular object under the checked cloth, and saying "Tut-tut!" over and over again.

  Mrs. Banks came running out to meet her.

  "Welcome, Miss Andrew, welcome!" she said politely. "How kind of you to pay us a visit. Such an unexpected pleasure. I hope you had a good journey."

  "Most unpleasant. I never enjoy travelling," said Miss Andrew. She glanced with an angry, peering eye round the garden.

  "Disgracefully untidy!" she remarked disgustedly. "Take my advice and dig up those things—" she pointed to the sunflowers, "and plant evergreens. Much less trouble. Saves time and money. And looks neater. Better still, no garden at all. Just a plain cement courtyard."

  "But," protested Mrs. Banks gently, "I like flowers best!"

  "Ridiculous! Stuff and nonsense! You are a silly woman. And your children are very rude — especially the boy."

  "Oh, Michael — I am surprised! Were you rude to Miss Andrew? You must apologise at once." Mrs. Banks was getting very nervous and flustered.

  "No, Mother, I wasn't. I only—" He began to explain but Miss Andrew's loud voice interrupted.

  "He was most insulting," she insisted. "He must go to a boarding-school at once. And the girl must have a Governess. I shall choose one myself. And as for the young person you have looking after them—" she nodded in the direction of Mary Poppins, "you must dismiss her this instant. She is impertinent, incapable and totally unreliable."

  Mrs. Banks was plainly horrified.

  "Oh, surely you are mistaken, Miss Andrew! We think she is such a treasure."

  "You know nothing about it. I am never mistaken. Dismiss her!"

  Miss Andrew swept on up the path.

  Mrs. Banks hurried behind her looking very worried and upset.

  "I — er — hope we shall be able to make you comfortable, Miss Andrew!" she said, politely. But she was beginning to feel rather doubtful.

  "H'm. It's not much of a house," replied Miss Andrew. "And it's in a shocking condition — peeling everywhere and most dilapidated. You must send for a carpenter. And when were these steps white-washed? They're very dirty."

  Mrs. Banks bit her lip. Miss Andrew was t
urning her lovely, comfortable house into something mean and shabby, and it made her feel very unhappy.

  "I'll have them done to-morrow," she said meekly.

  "Why not to-day?" demanded Miss Andrew. "No time like the present. And why paint your door white? Dark brown — that's the proper colour for a door. Cheaper, and doesn't show the dirt. Just look at those spots!"

  And putting down the circular object, she began to point out the marks on the front door.

  "There! There! There! Everywhere! Most disreputable!"

  "I'll see to it immediately," said Mrs. Banks faintly. "Won't you come upstairs now to your room?"

  Miss Andrew stamped into the hall after her.

  "I hope there is a fire in it."

  "Oh, yes. A good one. This way, Miss Andrew. Robertson Ay will bring up your luggage."

  "Well, tell him to be careful. The trunks are full of medicine bottles. I have to take care of my health!" Miss Andrew moved towards the stairs. She glanced round the hall.

  "This wall needs re-papering. I shall speak to George about it. And why, I should like to know, wasn't he here to meet me? Very rude of him. His manners, I see, have not improved!"

  The voice grew a little fainter as Miss Andrew followed Mrs. Banks upstairs. Far away the children could hear their Mother's gentle voice, meekly agreeing to do whatever Miss Andrew wished.

  Michael turned to Jane.

  "Who is George?" he asked.

  "Daddy."

  "But his name is Mr. Banks."

  "Yes, but his other name is George."

  Michael sighed.

  "A month is an awfully long time, Jane, isn't it?"

  "Yes — four weeks and a bit," said Jane, feeling that a month with Miss Andrew would seem more like a year.

  Michael edged closer to her.

  "I say—" he began in an anxious whisper. "She can't really make them send Mary Poppins away, can she?"

  "No, I don't think so. But she's very odd. I don't wonder Daddy went out."

  "Odd!"

  The word sounded behind them like an explosion.

  They turned. Mary Poppins was gazing after Miss Andrew with a look that could have killed her.

  "Odd!" she repeated with a long-drawn sniff. "That's not the word for her. Humph! I don't know how to bring up children, don't I? I'm impertinent, incapable, and totally unreliable, am I? We'll see about that!"

  Jane and Michael were used to threats from Mary Poppins but to-day there was a note in her voice they had never heard before. They stared at her in silence, wondering what was going to happen.

  A tiny sound, partly a sigh and partly a whistle, fell on the air.

  "What was that?" said Jane quickly.

  The sound came again, a little louder this time. Mary Poppins cocked her head and listened.

  Again a faint chirping seemed to come from the doorstep.

  "Ah!" cried Mary Poppins, triumphantly. "I might have known it!"

  And with a sudden movement, she sprang at the circular object Miss Andrew had left behind and tweaked off the cover.

  Beneath it was a brass bird-cage, very neat and shiny. And sitting at one end of the perch, huddled between his wings, was a small light-brown bird. He blinked a little as the afternoon light streamed down upon his head. Then he gazed solemnly about him with a round dark eye. His glance fell upon Mary Poppins and with a start of recognition he opened his beak and gave a sad, throaty little cheep. Jane and Michael had never heard such a miserable sound.

  "Did she, indeed? Tch, tch, tch! You don't say!" said Mary Poppins nodding her head sympathetically.

  "Chirp-irrup!" said the bird, shrugging its wings dejectedly.

  "What? Two years? In that cage? Shame on her!" said Mary Poppins to the bird, her face flushing with anger.

  The children stared. The bird was speaking in no language they knew and yet here was Mary Poppins carrying on an intelligent conversation with him as though she understood.

  "What is it saying—" Michael began.

  "Sh!" said Jane, pinching his arm to make him keep quiet.

  They stared at the bird in silence. Presently he hopped a little way along the perch towards Mary Poppins and sang a note or two in a low questioning voice.

  Mary Poppins nodded. "Yes — of course I know that field. Was that where she caught you?"

  The bird nodded. Then he sang a quick trilling phrase that sounded like a question.

  Mary Poppins thought for a moment. "Well," she said. "It's not very far. You could do it in about an hour. Flying South from here."

  The bird seemed pleased. He danced a little on his perch and flapped his wings excitedly. Then his song broke out again, a stream of round, clear notes, as he looked imploringly at Mary Poppins.

  She turned her head and glanced cautiously up the stairs.

  "Will I? What do you think? Didn't you hear her call me a Young Person? Me!" She sniffed disgustedly.

  The bird's shoulders shook as though he were laughing.

  Mary Poppins bent down.

  "What are you going to do, Mary Poppins?" cried Michael, unable to contain himself any longer. "What kind of a bird is that?"

  "A lark," said Mary Poppins, briefly, turning the handle of the little door. "You're seeing a lark in a cage for the first time — and the last!"

  And as she said that the door of the cage swung open. The Lark, flapping his wings, swooped out with a shrill cry and alighted on Mary Poppins' shoulder.

  "Humph!" she said, turning her head. "That's an improvement, I should think?"

  "Chirr-up!" agreed the Lark, nodding.

  "Well, you'd better be off," Mary Poppins warned him. "She'll be back in a minute."

  At that the Lark burst into a stream of running notes, flicking its wings at her and bowing his head again and again.

  "There, there!" said Mary Poppins, gruffly. "Don't thank me. I was glad to do it. I couldn't see a Lark in a cage! Besides, you heard what she called me!"

  The Lark tossed back his head and fluttered his wings. He seemed to be laughing heartily. Then he cocked his head on one side and listened.

  "Oh, I quite forgot!" came a trumpeting voice from upstairs. "I left Caruso outside. On those dirty steps. I must go and get him."

  Miss Andrew's heavy tread sounded on the stairs.

  "What?" she called back in reply to some question of Mrs. Banks. "Oh, he's my lark, my lark, Caruso! I call him that because he used to be such a beautiful singer. What? No, he doesn't sing at all now, not since I trapped him in the field and put him in a cage. I can't think why."

  The voice was coming nearer, growing louder as it approached.

  "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 want polishing. They should be done at once."

  Tramp-tramp. Tramp-tramp. Miss Andrew's steps sounded through the hall.

  "Here she comes!" hissed Mary Poppins. "Be off with you!" She gave her shoulder a little shake.

  "Quickly!" cried Michael anxiously.

  "Oh, hurry!" said Jane.

  The Twins waved their hands.

  With a quick movement the Lark bent his head and pulled out one of his wing feathers with his beak.

  "Chirr-chirr-chirr-irrup!" he sang and stuck the feather into the ribbon of Mary Poppins' hat. Then he spread his wings and swept into the air.

  At the same moment Miss Andrew appeared in the doorway.

  "What?" she shouted, when she saw Jane and Michael and the Twins. "Not gone up to bed yet? This will never do. All well-brought-up children—" she looked balefully at Mary Poppins, "should be in bed by five o'clock. I shall certainly speak to your Father."

  She glanced round.

  "Now, let me see. Where did I leave my—" She broke off suddenly. The uncovered cage, with its open door, stood at her feet. She stared down at it as though she were unable to believe her eyes.

  "Why? When? Where? What? Who?" she spluttered. Then she found her full voice.


  "Who took off that cover?" she thundered. The children trembled at the sound.

  "Who opened that cage?"

  There was no reply.

  "Where is my Lark?"

  Still there was silence as Miss Andrew stared from one child to another. At last her gaze fell accusingly upon Mary Poppins.

  "You did it!" she cried, pointing her large finger. "I can tell by the look on your face! How dare you! I shall see that you leave this house to-night — bag and baggage! You impudent, impertinent, worthless—"

  Chirp-irrup!

  From the air came a little trill of laughter. Miss Andrew looked up. The Lark was lightly balancing on his wings just above the sunflowers.

  "Ah, Caruso — there you are!" cried Miss Andrew. "Now come along! Don't keep me waiting. Come back to your nice, clean cage, Caruso, and let me shut the door!"

  But the Lark just hung in the air and went into peals of laughter, flinging back his head and clapping his wings against his sides.

  Miss Andrew bent and picked up the cage and held it above her head.

  "Caruso — what did I say? Come back at once!" she commanded, swinging the cage towards him. But he swooped past it and brushed against Mary Poppins' hat.

  "Chirp-irrup!" he said, as he sped by.

  "All right," said Mary Poppins, nodding in reply.

  "Caruso, did you hear me?" cried Miss Andrew. But now there was a hint of dismay in her loud voice. She put down the cage and tried to catch the Lark with her hands. But he dodged and flickered past her, and with a lift of his wings, dived higher into the air.

  A babble of notes streamed down to Mary Poppins.

  "Ready!" she called back.

  And then a strange thing happened.

  Mary Poppins fixed her eyes upon Miss Andrew and Miss Andrew, suddenly spell-bound by that strange dark gaze, began to tremble on her feet. She gave a little gasp, staggered uncertainly forward and with a thundering rush she dashed towards the cage. Then — was it that Miss Andrew grew smaller or the cage larger? Jane and Michael could not be sure. All they knew for certain was that the cage door shut to with a little click and closed upon Miss Andrew.

  "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried, as the Lark swooped down and seized the cage by the handle.

  "What am I doing? Where am I going?" Miss Andrew shouted as the cage swept into the air.