Mary Poppins Comes Back mp-2

by P. L. Travers

  "Hail!"

  The Sun glanced round the wide dark-tented ring and, in answer to the greeting, swung his long gold whip three times about his head. As the lash turned in the air there was a quick, sharp crack. At once the comets sprang up and cantered out, their braided tails swinging wildly, their plumed heads high and erect.

  "Here we are again, here we are again!" cried a loud, hoarse voice, and bouncing into the ring came a comical figure with silver-painted face, wide red mouth and huge silvery frills about his neck.

  "Saturn — the Clown!" whispered Orion behind his hand to the children.

  "When is a door not a door?" demanded the Clown of the audience, turning over and standing on one hand.

  "When it's ajar!" answered Jane and Michael loudly.

  A disappointed look came over the Clown's face.

  "Oh, you know it!" he said, reproachfully. "That's not fair!"

  The Sun cracked his whip.

  "All right, all right!" said the Clown. "I've got another. Why does a hen cross the road?" he asked, sitting down with a bump on the star-dust.

  "To get to the other side!" cried Jane and Michael.

  The swinging whip caught the Clown round the knees.

  "O-o-h! Don't do that! You'll hurt poor Joey. Look at them laughing up there! But I'll fix them! Listen!" He turned a double somersault in the air.

  "What kind of jam did the chicken ask for when it came out of the egg. Tell me that!"

  "Mar — me — lade!" yelled Michael and Jane.

  "Be off with you!" cried the Sun, catching his whip about the Clown's shoulders, and the Clown went bounding round the ring, head over heels, crying—

  "Poor old Joey! He's failed again! He's failed again! They know all his best jokes, poor old fellow, poor old — oh, beg pardon, Miss, beg pardon!"

  He broke off for he had somersaulted against Pegasus, the Winged Horse, as it entered carrying a bright spangly figure on its back.

  "Venus, the Evening Star," explained Orion.

  Breathlessly, Jane and Michael watched the starry figure ride lightly through the ring. Round and round she went, bowing to the Sun as she passed, and presently the Sun, standing in her path, held up a great hoop covered with thin gold paper.

  She balanced on her toes for a moment. "Hup!" said the Sun, and Venus, with the utmost grace, jumped through the hoop and landed again on the back of Pegasus.

  "Hurrah!" cried Jane and Michael, and the audience of stars echoed back "Hurrah!"

  "Let me try, let Poor Joey have a go, just a little one to make a cat laugh!" cried the Clown. But Venus only tossed her head and laughed and rode out of the ring.

  She had hardly disappeared before the Three Kids came prancing in, looking rather shy and bowing awkwardly to the Sun. Then they stood on their hind legs in a row before him, and in high, thin voices recited the following song—

  "Horn and hoof,

  Hoof and horn,

  Every night

  Three Kids are born,

  Each with a Twinkly Nose,

  Each with a Twinkly Tail.

  Blue and black,

  Black and blue

  Is the evening sky

  As the Kids come through,

  Each with a Twinkly Nose,

  Each with a Twinkly Tail.

  Gay and bright

  And white as May

  The Three Kids drink

  At the Milky Way,

  Each with a Twinkly Nose,

  Each with a Twinkly Tail.

  All night long

  From Dusk till Dawn

  The Three Kids graze

  On the starry lawn

  Each with a Twinkly Nose,

  Each with a Twink-ker-ly T-a-i-l!"

  They drew out the last line with a long baa-ing sound and danced out.

  "What's next?" asked Michael but there was no need for Orion to reply for the Dragon was already in the ring, his nostrils steaming and his two finny tails tossing up the star-dust. After him came Castor and Pollux carrying between them a large white shining globe faintly figured with a design of mountains and rivers.

  "It looks like the Moon!" said Jane.

  "Of course it's the Moon!" said Orion.

  The Dragon was now on his hind legs and the Twins were balancing the Moon on his nose. It bobbed up and down uncertainly for a moment. Then it settled and the Dragon began to waltz about the ring to the tune of the starry music. Round he went, very carefully and steadily, once, twice, three times.

  "That will do!" said the Sun cracking his whip. And the Dragon, with a sigh of relief, shook its head and sent the Moon flying across the ring. It landed, with a bumpy thud, right in Michael's lap.

  "Good gracious!" said he, very startled. "What shall I do with this?"

  "Whatever you like," said Orion. "I thought you asked for it."

  And suddenly Michael remembered his conversation that evening with Mary Poppins. He had asked for the Moon then, and now he had got it. And he didn't know what to do with it. How very awkward!

  But he had no time to worry about it for the Sun was cracking his whip again. Michael settled the Moon on his knee, folded his arms around it and turned back to the ring.

  "What are two and three?" the Sun was asking the Dragon.

  The two tails lashed five times on the star-dust.

  "And six and four?" The Dragon thought for a minute. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine — The tails stopped.

  "Wrong!" said the Sun. "Quite wrong! No supper for you to-night!"

  At that the Dragon burst into tears and hurried from the ring sobbing.

  "Alas and alack,

  Boo-hoo, boo-hoo!"

  he cried bitterly.

  "I wanted a Maiden

  Served in a stew,

  A succulent, seasoned, tasty Girl

  With star for her eye

  And comet for curl,

  And I wouldn't have minded if there'd been two,

  For I'm awfully hungry,

  Boo-hoo!

  Boo-hoo!"

  "Won't they give him even a small maiden?" said Michael, feeling rather sorry for the Dragon.

  "Hush!" said Orion, as a dazzling form sprang into the ring.

  When the cloud of star-dust had cleared away, the children drew back, startled. It was the Lion and he was growling fiercely.

  Michael moved a little closer to Jane.

  The Lion, crouching, moved forward slowly till he reached the Sun. His long red tongue went out, lolling dangerously. But the Sun only laughed, and lifting his foot, he gently kicked the Lion's golden nose. With a roar, as though he had been burnt, the starry beast sprang up.

  The Sun's whip cracked fiercely on the air. Slowly, unwillingly, growling all the time, the Lion rose on his hind legs. The Sun tossed him a skipping-rope and, holding it between his forepaws, the lion began to sing.

  "I am the Lion, Leo-the-Lion,

  The beautiful, suitable, Dandy Lion,

  Look for me up in the starry sky on

  Clear cold nights at the foot of Orion,

  Glimmering, glittering, gleaming there,

  The Handsomest Sight in the atmosphere!"

  And at the end of the song he swung the rope and skipped round the ring, rolling his eyes and growling.

  "Hurry up, Leo, it's our turn!" A rumbling voice sounded from behind the curtain.

  "Come on, you big cat!" a shrill voice added.

  The Lion dropped his skipping-rope and with a roar sprang at the curtain, but the two creatures who entered next stepped carefully aside so that the Lion missed them.

  "Great Bear and Little Bear," said Orion.

  Slowly the two Bears lumbered in, holding paws and waltzing to slow music. Round the ring they went, looking very serious and solemn, and at the end of their dance they made a clumsy curtsey to the audience and remarked—

  "We're the Gruffly Bear and the Squeaky Bear,

  O Constellations, has any one here

  A honeycomb square that the
y can spare

  For the Squeaky Bear and the Gruffly Bear

  To add to the store in their dark blue lair

  Or to—

  or to—

  or to—"

  The Great Bear and the Little Bear stammered and stumbled and looked at each other.

  "Don't you remember what comes next?" rumbled the Gruffly Bear behind his paw.

  "No, I don't!" The Squeaky Bear shook his head and stared anxiously down at the star-dust as though he thought the missing words might be there.

  But at that moment the audience saved the situation. A shower of honeycombs came hurtling down, tumbling about the ears of the two Bears. The Gruffly Bear and the Squeaky Bear, looking very relieved, stooped and picked them up.

  "Good!" rumbled the Great Bear, digging his nose into a comb.

  "fix-cellent!" squeaked the Little Bear, trying another. Then, with their noses streaming with honey, they bowed solemnly to the Sun and lumbered out.

  The Sun waved his hand and the music grew louder and rang triumphantly through the tent.

  "The signal for the Big Parade," said Orion, as Castor and Pollux came dancing in with all the Constellations at their heels.

  The Bears came back, waltzing clumsily together, and Leo-the-Lion, still growling angrily, came sniffing at their heels. In swept a starry Swan, singing a high, clear chant.

  "The Swan Song," said Orion.

  And after the Swan came the Golden Fish, leading the Three Kids by a silver string, and the Dragon followed, still sobbing bitterly. A loud and terrible sound almost drowned the music. It was the bellowing of Taurus-the-Bull as he leapt into the ring, trying to toss Saturn the Clown from his back. One after another the creatures came rushing in to take their places. The ring was a swaying golden mass of horns and hooves and manes and tails.

  "Is this the end?" Jane whispered.

  "Almost," replied Orion. "They're finishing early to-night. She has to be in by half-past ten."

  "Who has?" asked both the children together. But Orion did not hear. He was standing up in his seat waving his arm.

  "Come along, be quick there, step along!" he called.

  And in came Venus riding her Winged Horse followed by a starry Serpent that put its tail carefully in its mouth and bowled along like a hoop.

  Last of all came the comets, prancing proudly through the curtains, swinging their braided tails. The music was louder now and wilder and a golden smoke rose up from the star-dust as the Constellations, shouting, singing, roaring, growling, formed themselves into a ring. And in the centre, as though they dared not go too near his presence, they left a clear, bare circle for the Sun.

  There he stood, towering above them all, his whip folded in his arms. He nodded lightly to each animal as it passed him with bent head. And then Jane and Michael saw that bright gaze lift from the ring and wander round the great audience of watching stars until it turned in the direction of the Royal Box. They felt themselves growing warmer as his rays fell upon them and, with a start of surprise, they saw him raise his whip and nod his head towards them.

  As the lash swung up every star and constellation turned in its tracks. Then, with one movement, every one of them bowed.

  "Are they — can they be bowing to us?" whispered Michael, clutching the Moon more tightly.

  A familiar laugh sounded behind them. They turned quickly There, sitting alone in the Royal Box, sat a well-known figure in a straw hat and blue coat and a gold locket round its neck.

  "Hail, Mary Poppins, hail!" came the massed voices from the circus ring.

  Jane and Michael looked at each other. So this was what Mary Poppins did on her Evening Out! They could hardly believe their eyes — and yet, there was Mary Poppins, as large as life and looking very superior.

  "Hail!" came the cry again.

  Mary Poppins raised her hand in greeting.

  Then, stepping primly and importantly, she moved out of the box. She did not seem in the least surprised to see Jane and Michael but she sniffed as she went past.

  "How often," she remarked to them across Orion's head, "have you been told that it is rude to stare?"

  She passed on and down to the ring. The Great Bear lifted the golden rope. The Constellations drew apart and the Sun moved a pace forward. He spoke and his voice was warm and full of sweetness.

  "Mary Poppins, my dear, you are welcome!"

  Mary Poppins dropped to her knees in a deep curtsey.

  "The Planets hail you and the Constellations give you greeting. Rise, my child!"

  She stood up, bending her head respectfully before him.

  "For you, Mary Poppins," the Sun went on, "the Stars have gathered in the dark blue tent, for you they have been withdrawn to-night from shining on the world. I trust, therefore, that you have enjoyed your Evening Out!"

  "I never had a better one. Never!" said Mary Poppins, lifting her head and smiling.

  "Dear child!" The Sun bowed. "But now the sands of night are running out, and you must be in by

  There, all alone in the Royal Box, sat a

  well-known figure.

  half-past ten. So, before you depart, let us all, for old sake's sake, dance the Dance of the Wheeling Sky!"

  "Down you go!" said Orion, to the astonished children, giving them a little push. They stumbled down the stairs and almost fell into the star-dust ring.

  "And where, may I ask, are your manners?" hissed the well-known voice in Jane's ear.

  "What must I do?" stammered Jane.

  Mary Poppins glared at her and made a little movement towards the Sun. And, suddenly, Jane realised. She grabbed Michael's arm, and, kneeling, pulled him down beside her. The warmth from the Sun lapped them about with fiery sweetness.

  "Rise, children," he said kindly. "You are very welcome. I know you well — I have looked down upon you many a summer's day!"

  Scrambling to her feet Jane moved towards him but his whip held her back. "Touch me not, child of earth!" he cried warningly, waving her further away. "Life is sweet and no man may come near the Sun — touch me not!"

  "But are you truly the Sun?" demanded Michael, staring at him.

  The Sun flung out his hand.

  "O Stars and Constellations," he said, "tell me this. Who am I? This child would know?"

  "Lord of the Stars, O Sun!" answered a thousand starry voices.

  "He is King of the South and North," cried Orion, "and Ruler of the East and West. He walks the outer rim of the world and the Poles melt in his glory. He draws up the leaf from the seed and covers the land with sweetness. He is truly the Sun."

  The Sun smiled across at Michael.

  "Now do you believe?"

  Michael nodded.

  "Then, strike up! And you, Constellations, choose your Partners!"

  The Sun waved his whip. The music began again, very swift and gay and dancey. Michael began to beat time with his feet as he hugged the Moon in his arms. But he squeezed it a little too tightly for suddenly there was a loud pop and the Moon began to dwindle.

  "Oh! Oh! Look what's happening!" cried Michael, almost weeping.

  Down, down, down, shrank the Moon, until it was as small as a soap-bubble, then it was only a wisp of shining light and then — his hands closed upon empty air.

  "It couldn't have been a real Moon, could it?" he demanded.

  Jane glanced questioningly at the Sun across the little stretch of star-dust.

  He flung back his flaming head and smiled at her.

  "What is real and what is not? Can you tell me or I you? Perhaps we shall never know more than this — that to think a thing is to make it true. And so, if Michael thought he had the Moon in his arms — why, then, he had indeed."

  "Then," said Jane wonderingly, "is it true that we are here to-night or do we only think we are?"

  The Sun smiled again, a little sadly.

  "Child," he said, "seek no further! From the beginning of the world all men have asked that question. And I, who am Lord of the Sky — even I do not k
now the answer. I am certain only that this is the Evening Out, that the Constellations are shining in your eyes and that it is true if you think it is…"

  "Come, dance with us, Jane and Michael!" cried the Twins.

  And Jane forgot her question as the four of them swung out into the ring in time with the heavenly tune. But they were hardly half-way round the ring before, with a little start, she stumbled and stood still.

  "Look! Look! She is dancing with him!"

  Michael followed her gaze and stood still on his short fat legs, staring.

  Mary Poppins and the Sun were dancing together. But not as Jane and he were dancing with the Twins, breast to breast and foot to foot. Mary Poppins and the Sun never once touched, but waltzed with arms outstretched, opposite each other, keeping perfect time together in spite of the space between them.

  About them wheeled the dancing constellations: Venus with her arms round the neck of Pegasus, the Bull and the Lion arm in arm and the Three Kids prancing in a row. Their moving brightness dazzled the children's eyes as they stood in the star-dust gazing.

  Then suddenly the dance slackened and the music died away. The Sun and Mary Poppins, together yet apart, stood still. And at the same time every animal paused in the dance and stood quietly in its tracks. The whole ring was silent.

  The Sun spoke.

  "Now," he said quietly, "the time has come. Back to your places in the sky, my stars and constellations. Home and to sleep, my three dear mortal guests. Mary Poppins, good-night! I do not say good-bye for we shall meet again. But — for a little time — farewell, farewell!"

  Then, with a large and gracious movement of his head, the Sun leaned across the space that separated him from Mary Poppins and, with great ceremony, carefully, lightly, swiftly, he brushed her cheek with his lips.