Mary Poppins Comes Back mp-2

by P. L. Travers

  "What was?" said Jane.

  "Standing on my head. I shall practise it when I get home."

  "I wish we could have Second Mondays," said Jane dreamily.

  "Get in, please!" said Mary Poppins, shutting her umbrella and pushing the children up the winding stairs of the bus.

  They sat together in the seat behind her, talking quietly about all that had happened that afternoon.

  Mary Poppins turned and glared at them.

  "It is rude to whisper," she said fiercely. "And sit up straight. You're not flour-bags!"

  They were quiet for a few minutes. Mary Poppins, half-turning in her seat, watched them with angry eyes.

  "What a funny family you've got," Michael remarked to her, trying to make conversation.

  Her head went up with a jerk.

  "Funny? What do you mean, pray — funny?"

  "Well — odd. Mr. Turvy turning Catherine wheels and standing on his head—"

  Mary Poppins stared at him as though she could not believe her ears.

  "Did I understand you to say," she began, speaking her words as though she were biting them, "that my cousin turned a Catherine wheel? And stood >> on—"

  "But he did," protested Michael nervously. "We saw him."

  "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 dreadful statement. She glared at Michael.

  "Now this—" she began, and he shrank back in terror from her wild darting eyes. "This is the Last Straw. First you are impudent to me and then you insult my relations. It would take very little more — Very Little More — to make me give notice. So — I warn you!"

  And with that she bounced round on her seat and sat with her back to them. And even from the back she looked angrier than they had ever seen her.

  Michael leaned forward.

  "I–I apologise," he said.

  There was no answer from the seat in front.

  "I'm sorry, Mary Poppins!"

  "Humph!"

  "Very sorry!"

  "And well you might be!" she retorted, staring straight ahead of her.

  Michael leant towards Jane.

  "But it was true — what I said. Wasn't it?" he whispered.

  Jane shook her head and put her finger to her lip. She was staring at Mary Poppins' hat. And presently, when she was sure that Mary Poppins was not looking, she pointed to the brim.

  There, gleaming on the black shiny straw, was a scattering of crumbs, yellow crumbs from a sponge cake, the kind of thing you would expect to find on the hat of a person who had stood on their head to have tea.

  Michael gazed at the crumbs for a moment. Then he turned and nodded understandingly to Jane.

  They sat there, jogging up and down as the bus rumbled homewards. Mary Poppins' back, erect and angry, was like a silent warning. They dared not speak to her. But every time the bus turned a corner they saw the crumbs turning Catherine wheels on the shining brim of her hat….

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The New One

  But why must we go for a walk with Ellen?" grumbled Michael, slamming the gate. "I don't like her. Her nose is too red."

  "Sh!" said Jane. "She'll hear you."

  Ellen, who was wheeling the perambulator, turned round.

  "You're a cruel, unkind boy, Master Michael. I'm only doing my duty, I'm sure! It's no pleasure to me to be going for a walk in this heat — so there!"

  She blew her red nose on a green handkerchief.

  "Then why do you go?" Michael demanded.

  "Because Mary Poppins is busy. So come along, there's a good boy, and I'll buy you a pennorth of peppermints."

  "I don't want peppermints," muttered Michael. "I want Mary Poppins."

  Plop-plop. Plop-plop. Ellen's feet marched slowly and heavily along the Lane.

  "I can see a rainbow through every chink of my hat," said Jane.

  "I can't," said Michael crossly. "I can only see my silk lining."

  Ellen stopped at the corner, looking anxiously for traffic.

  "Want any help?" enquired the Policeman, sauntering up to her.

  "Well," said Ellen, blushing, "if you could take us across the road, I'd be much obliged. What with a bad cold, and four children to look after, I don't know if I'm on my head or my feet." She blew her nose again.

  "But you must know! You've only got to look!" said Michael thinking how Perfectly Awful Ellen was.

  But the Policeman apparently thought differently for he took Ellen's arm with one hand, and the handle of the perambulator with the other, and led her across the street as tenderly as though she were a bride.

  "Ever get a day off?" he enquired, looking interestedly into Ellen's red face.

  "Well," said Ellen. "Half-days, so to speak. Every second Saturday." She blew her nose nervously.

  "Funny," said the Policeman. "Those are my days, too. And I'm usually just around here at two o'clock in the afternoon."

  "Oh!" said Ellen, opening her mouth very wide.

  "So!" said the Policeman, nodding at her politely.

  "Well, I'll see," said Ellen. "Good-bye."

  And she went trudging on, looking back occasionally to see if the Policeman was still looking.

  And he always was.

  "Mary Poppins never needs a policeman," complained Michael. "What can she be busy about?"

  "Something important is happening at home," said Jane. "I'm sure of it."

  "How do you know?"

  "I've got an empty, waiting sort of feeling inside."

  "Pooh!" said Michael. "I expect you're hungry! Can't we go faster, Ellen, and get it over?"

  "That boy," said Ellen to the Park railing, "has a heart of stone. No, we can't, Master Michael, because of my feet."

  "What's the matter with them?"

  "They will only go so fast and no faster."

  "Oh, dear Mary Poppins!" said Michael bitterly.

  He went sighing after the perambulator. Jane walked beside him counting rainbows through her hat.

  Ellen's slow feet tramped steadily onward. One-two. One-two. Plop-plop. Plop-plop….

  And away behind them in Cherry Tree Lane the important thing was happening.

  From the outside, Number Seventeen looked as peaceful and sleepy as all the other houses. But behind the drawn blinds there was such a stir and bustle that, if it hadn't been Summer-time, a passer-by might have thought the people in the house were Spring-cleaning or getting ready for Christmas.

  But the house itself stood blinking in the sunshine, taking no notice. After all, it thought to itself, I have seen such bustlings often before and shall probably see them many times again, so why should I bother about it?

  And just then, the front door was flung open by Mrs. Brill, and Doctor Simpson hurried out. Mrs. Brill stood dancing on her toes as she watched him go down the garden path, swinging his little brown bag. Then she hurried to the Pantry and called excitedly—

  "Where are you, Robertson? Come along, if you're coming!"

  She scuttled up the stairs two at a time with Robertson Ay yawning and stretching, behind her.

  "Sh!" hissed Mrs. Brill. "Sh!"

  She put her finger to her lips and tip-toed to Mrs. Banks' door.

  "Tch, tch! You can't see nothing but the wardrobe," she complained, as she bent to look through the key-hole. "The wardrobe and a bit of the winder."

  But the next moment she started violently.

  "My Glory-goodness!" she shrieked, as the door burst open suddenly, and she fell back against Robertson Ay.

  For there, framed against the light, stood Mary Poppins, looking very stern and suspicious. In her arms she carried, with great care, something that looked like a bundle of blankets.

  "Well!" said Mrs. Brill, breathlessly. "If it isn't you! I was just polishing the door-knob, putting a shine on it, so to say, as you came out."

  Mary Poppins looked at the knob. It was very dirty.

  "Polishing the key-hole is what I should ha
ve said!" she remarked tartly.

  But Mrs. Brill took no notice. She was gazing tenderly at the bundle. With her large red hand she drew aside a fold of one of the blankets, and a satisfied smile spread over her face.

  "Ah!" she cooed. "Ah, the Lamb! Ah, the Duck! Ah, the Trinket! And as good as a week of Sundays, I'll be bound!"

  Robertson Ay yawned again and stared at the bundle with his mouth slightly open.

  "Another pair of shoes to clean!" he said mournfully, leaning against the banisters for support.

  "Mind you don't drop it, now!" said Mrs. Brill anxiously, as Mary Poppins brushed past her.

  Mary Poppins glanced at them both contemptuously.

  "If I were some people," she remarked acidly, "I'd mind my own business!"

  And she folded the blanket over the bundle again and went upstairs to the Nursery.

  "Excuse me, please! Excuse me!" Mr. Banks came rushing up the stairs, nearly knocking Mrs. Brill over as he hurried into Mrs. Banks' 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't bargained for five."

  "I'm so sorry!" said Mrs. Banks, smiling at him happily.

  "You're not sorry, not a bit. In fact you're very pleased and conceited about it. And there's no reason to be. It's a very small one."

  "I like them that way," said Mrs. Banks. "Besides, it will grow."

  "Yes, unfortunately!" he replied bitterly. "And I shall have to buy it shoes and clothes and a tricycle. Yes, and send it to school and give it a Good Start in Life. A very expensive proceeding. And then, after all that, when I'm an old man sitting by the fire, it will go away and leave me. You hadn't thought of that, I suppose?"

  "No," said Mrs. Banks, trying to look sorry but not succeeding. "I hadn't."

  "I thought not. Well, there it is. But, I warn you, I shall not be able to afford to have the bathroom re-tiled."

  "Don't worry about that," said Mrs. Banks comfortingly. "I really like the old tiles best."

  "Then you're a very stupid woman. That's all I have to say."

  And Mr. Banks went away, muttering and blustering through the house. But when he got outside the front door, he flung back his shoulders, and pushed out his chest, and put a large cigar into his mouth. And soon after that he was heard telling Admiral Boom the news in a voice that was very loud and conceited and boastful….

  Mary Poppins stooped over the new cradle between John's and Barbara's cots and laid the bundle of blankets carefully in it.

  "Here you are at last! Bless my beak and tail feathers — I thought you were never coming! Which is it?" cried a croaking voice from the window.

  Mary Poppins looked up.

  The Starling who lived on the top of the Chimney was hopping excitedly on the window-sill.

  "A girl. Annabel," said Mary Poppins shortly. "And I'll thank you to be a little quieter. Squawking and croaking there like a packet of Magpies!"

  But the Starling was not listening. He was turning somersaults on the window-sill, clapping his wings wildly together each time his head came up.

  "What a treat!" he panted, when at last he stood up straight. "What a TREAT! Oh, I could sing!"

  "You couldn't. Not if you tried till Doomsday!" scoffed Mary Poppins.

  But the Starling was too happy to care.

  "A girl!" he shrieked, dancing on his toes. "I've had three broods this season and — would you believe it? — every one of them boys. But Annabel will make up to me for that!"

  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's chimney and died, poor thing, of eating green apples and grapes. I warned her, I warned her! But she wouldn't believe me! So, of course—"

  "Will you be quiet!" demanded Mary Poppins, making a dive at him with her apron.

  "I will not!" he shouted, dodging neatly. "This is no time for silence. I'm going to spread the news."

  He swooped out of the window.

  "Back in five minutes!" he screamed at her over his shoulder, as he darted away.

  Mary Poppins moved quietly about the Nursery, putting Annabel's new clothes in a neat pile.

  The Sunlight, slipping in at the window, crept across the room and up to the cradle.

  "Open your eyes!" it said softly. "And I'll put a shine on them!"

  The coverlet of the cradle trembled. Annabel opened her eyes.

  "Good girl!" said the Sunlight. "They're blue, I see. My favourite colour! There! You won't find a brighter pair of eyes anywhere!"

  It slipped lightly out of Annabel's eyes and down the side of the cradle.

  "Thank you very much!" said Annabel politely.

  A warm Breeze stirred the muslin flounces at her head.

  "Curls or straight?" it whispered, dropping into the cradle beside her.

  "Oh, curls, please!" said Annabel softly.

  "It does save trouble, doesn't it?" agreed the Breeze. And it moved over her head, carefully turning up the feathery edges of her hair, before it fluttered off across the room.

  "Here we are! Here we are!"

  A harsh voice shrilled from the window. The Starling had returned to the sill. And behind him, wobbling uncertainly as he alighted, came a very young bird.

  Mary Poppins moved towards them threateningly.

  "Now you be off!" she said angrily. "I'll have no sparrers littering up this Nursery—"

  But the Starling, with the young one at his side, brushed haughtily past her.

  "Kindly remember, Mary Poppins," he said icily, "that all my families are properly brought up. Littering, indeed!"

  He alighted neatly on the edge of the cradle and steadied the Fledgling beside him.

  The young bird stared about him with round, inquisitive eyes. The Starling hopped along to the pillow.

  "Annabel, dear," he began, in a husky, wheedling voice, "I'm very partial to a nice, crisp, crunchy piece of Arrowroot Biscuit." His eyes twinkled greedily. "You haven't one about you, I suppose?"

  The curled head stirred on the pillow.

  "No? Well, you're young yet for biscuits, perhaps. Your sister Barbara — nice girl, she was, very generous and pleasant — always remembered me. So if, in the future, you could spare the old fellow a crumb or two—"

  "Of course I will," said Annabel from the folds of the blanket.

  "Good girl!" croaked the Starling approvingly. He cocked his head on one side and gazed at her with his round bright eye. "I hope," he remarked politely, "you are not too tired after your journey."

  Annabel shook her head.

  "Where has she come from — out of an egg?" cheeped the Fledgling suddenly.

  "Huh-huh!" scoffed Mary Poppins. "Do you think she's a sparrer?"

  The Starling gave her a pained and haughty look.

  "Well, what is she, then? And where did she come from?" cried the Fledgling shrilly, flapping his short wings and staring down at the cradle.

  "You tell him, Annabel!" the Starling croaked.

  Annabel moved her hands inside the blanket.

  "I am earth and air and fire and water," she said softly. "I come from the Dark where all things have their beginning."

  "Ah, such dark!" said the Starling softly, bending his head to his breast.

  "It was dark in the egg, too," the Fledgling cheeped.

  "I come from the sea and its tides," Annabel went on. "I come from the sky and its stars, I come from the sun and its brightness—"

  "Ah, so bright!" said the Starling, nodding.

  "And I come from the forests of earth."

  As if in a dream, Mary Poppins rocked the cradle — to-and-fro, to-and-fro with a steady swinging movement.

  "Yes?" whispered the Fledgling.

  "Slowly I moved at first," said Annabel, "always sleeping and dreaming. I remembered all I had been and I thought of all I shall be. And when I had dreamed my dream I awoke and came swiftly."
r />   She paused for a moment, her blue eyes full of memories.

  "And then?" prompted the Fledgling.

  "I heard the stars singing as I came and I felt warm wings about me. I passed the beasts of the jungle and came through the dark, deep waters. It was a long journey."

  Annabel was silent.

  The Fledgling stared at her with his bright inquisitive eyes.

  Mary Poppins' hand lay quietly on the side of the cradle. She had stopped rocking.

  "A long journey, indeed!" said the Starling softly, lifting his head from his breast. "And, ah, so soon forgotten!"

  Annabel stirred under the quilt.

  "No!" she said confidently. "I'll never forget."

  "Stuff and Nonsense! Beaks and Claws! Of course you will! By the time the week's out you won't remember a word of it — what you are or where you came from!"

  Inside her flannel petticoat Annabel was kicking furiously.

  "I will! I will! How could I forget?"

  "Because they all do!" jeered the Starling harshly. "Every silly human except—" he nodded his head at Mary Poppins—"her! She's Different, she's the Oddity, she's the Misfit—"

  "You Sparrer!" cried Mary Poppins, making a dart at him.

  But with a rude laugh he swept his Fledgling off the edge of the cradle and flew with him to the window-sill.

  "Tipped you last!" he said cheekily, as he brushed by. "Hullo, what's that?"

  There was a chorus of voices outside on the landing and a clatter of feet on the stairs.

  "I don't believe you! I won't believe you!" cried Annabel wildly.

  And at that moment Jane and Michael and the Twins burst into the room.

  "Mrs. Brill says you've got something to show us!" said Jane, flinging off her hat.

  "What is it?" demanded Michael, gazing round the room.

  "Show me! Me, too!" shrieked the Twins.

  Mary Poppins glared at them. "Is this a decent nursery or the Zoological gardens?" she enquired angrily. "Answer me that!"

  "The Zoo — er — I mean—" Michael broke off hurriedly for he had caught Mary Poppins' eye. "I mean a Nursery," he said lamely.

  "Oh, look, Michael, look!" Jane cried excitedly. "I told you something important was happening! It's a New Baby! Oh, Mary Poppins, can I have it to keep?"