More about Mary Poppins / И снова о Мэри Поппинз. Памела Трэверс
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Michael rudely.
“My compass, thank you,” said Mary Poppins, and she put it away in her pocket.
Michael looked at her as if he would like to kill her, and, indeed, what he felt was very like what he looked. But he just shrugged his shoulders and stalked off in front of them all and would not say a word to anybody.
“I could beat* that boy any day,” he assured himself as he went through the gate of Number Seventeen and up the stairs…
The burning weight still hung heavily within him. After the adventure with the compass it seemed to grow worse, and towards the evening he grew naughtier and naughtier. He pinched the Twins when Mary Poppins was not looking, and when they cried he said in a falsely kind voice:
“Why, darlings, what is the matter?”
But Mary Poppins was not deceived by it.
“You’ve got something coming to you!” she said significantly. But the burning thing inside him would not let him care. He just shrugged his shoulders and pulled Jane’s hair. And after that he went to the supper table and upset his bread-and-milk.
“And that,” said Mary Poppins, “is the end. Such deliberate naughtiness I never saw. In all my born days I never did, and that’s a fact. Off you go! Straight into bed with you and not another word!”
He had never seen her look so terrible.
But still he didn’t care.
He went into the Night-nursery and undressed. No, he didn’t care. He was bad, and if they didn’t look out he’d be worse. He didn’t care. He hated everybody. If they weren’t careful he would run away and join a circus. There! Off went a button. Good – there would be fewer to do up in the morning. And another! All the better. Nothing in all the world could ever make him feel sorry. He would get into bed without brushing his hair or his teeth – certainly without saying his prayers.
He was just about to get into bed and, indeed, had one foot already in it, when he noticed the compass lying on the top of the chest of drawers.
Very slowly he withdrew his foot and tiptoed across the room. He knew now what he would do. He would take the compass and spin it and go round the world. And they’d never find him again. And it would serve them right. Without making a sound he lifted a chair and put it against the chest of drawers. Then he climbed up on it and took the compass in his hand.
He moved it.
“North, South, East, West!” he said very quickly, in case anybody should come in before he got well away.
A noise behind the chair startled him and he turned round guiltily, expecting to see Mary Poppins. But instead, there were four gigantic figures bearing down towards him – the Eskimo with a spear, the Negro Lady with her husband’s huge club, the Mandarin with a great curved sword, and the Red Indian with a tomahawk. They were rushing upon him from all four quarters of the room with their weapons raised above their heads, and, instead of looking kind and friendly as they had done that afternoon, they now seemed threatening and full of revenge. They were almost on top of him, their huge, terrible, angry faces looming nearer and nearer. He felt their hot breath on his face and saw their weapons tremble in their hands.
With a cry Michael dropped the compass.
“Mary Poppins, Mary Poppins – help me, help me!” he screamed, and shut his eyes tight.
He felt something envelop him, something soft and warm. Oh, what was it? The fur coat of the Eskimo, the Mandarin’s cloak, the Red Indian’s doe-skin tunic, the black lady’s feathers? Which of them had caught him? Oh, if only he had been good – if only!
“Mary Poppins!” he wailed, as he felt himself carried through the air and set down in something still softer.
“Oh, dear Mary Poppins!”
“All right, all right. I’m not deaf, I’m thankful to say – no need to shout,” he heard her saying calmly.
He opened one eye. He could see no sign of the four gigantic figures of the compass. He opened the other eye to make sure. No – not a glint of any of them. He sat up. He looked round the room. There was nothing there.
Then he discovered that the soft thing that was round him was his own blanket, and the soft thing he was lying on was his own bed. And oh, the heavy burning thing that had been inside him all day had melted and disappeared. He felt peaceful and happy, and as if he would like to give everybody he knew a birthday present.
“What – what happened?” he said rather anxiously to Mary Poppins.
“I told you that was my compass, didn’t I? Be kind enough not to touch my things, if you please,” was all she said as she stooped and picked up the compass and put it in her pocket. Then she began to fold the clothes that he had thrown down on the floor.
“Shall I do it?” he said.
“No, thank you.”
He watched her go into the next room, and presently she returned and put something warm into his hands. It was a cup of milk.
Michael sipped it, tasting every drop several times with his tongue, making it last as long as possible so that Mary Poppins should stay beside him.
She stood there without saying a word, watching the milk slowly disappear. He could smell her crackling white apron and the faint flavour of toast that always hung about her so deliciously. But try as he would*, he could not make the milk last for ever, and presently, with a sigh of regret, he handed her the empty cup and slipped down into the bed. He had never known it be so comfortable, he thought. And he thought, too, how warm he was and how happy he felt and how lucky he was to be alive.
“Isn’t it a funny thing, Mary Poppins,” he said drowsily. “I’ve been so very naughty and I feel so very good.”
“Humph!” said Mary Poppins as she tucked him in and went away to wash up the supper things…
The Bird Woman
“Perhaps she won’t be there,” said Michael.
“Yes, she will,” said Jane. “She’s always there for ever and ever.”
They were walking up Ludgate Hill* on the way to pay a visit to Mr Banks in the City. For he had said that morning to Mrs Banks,
“My dear, if it doesn’t rain I think Jane and Michael might call for me at the Office today – that is, if you are agreeable. I have a feeling I should like to be taken out to Tea and Shortbread Fingers* and it’s not often I have a Treat.”
And Mrs Banks had said she would think about it.
But all day long, though Jane and Michael had watched her anxiously, she had not seemed to be thinking about it at all. From the things she said, she was thinking about the Laundry Bill and Michael’s new overcoat and where was Aunt Flossie’s address, and why did that wretched Mrs Jackson ask her to tea on the second Thursday of the month when she knew that was the very day Mrs Banks had to go to the Dentist’s?
Suddenly, when they felt quite sure she would never think about Mr Banks’s treat, she said,
“Now, children, don’t stand staring at me like that. Get your things on. You are going to the City to have tea with your Father. Had you forgotten?”
As if they could have forgotten! For it was not as though it were only the Tea that mattered. There was also the Bird Woman, and she herself was the best of all Treats.
That is why they were walking up Ludgate Hill and feeling very excited.
Mary Poppins walked between them, wearing her new hat and looking very distinguished. Every now and then she would look into the shop window just to make sure the hat was still there and that the pink roses on it had not turned into common flowers like marigolds.
Every time she stopped to make sure, Jane and Michael would sigh, but they did not dare say anything for fear she would spend even longer looking at herself in