"Which you won't get!" said a voice behind them. "The Park is closed at 5:30."
Out from the shadows came the Park Keeper, looking very belligerent.
"But it's Guy Fawkes' Day—the Fifth of November!" the children answered quickly.
"Orders is orders!" he retorted, "and all days are alike to me."
"Well, where can we let off the fireworks?" Michael demanded impatiently.
A greedy look leapt to the Keeper's eyes.
"You got some fireworks?" he said hungrily. "Well, why not say so before!" And he snatched the parcel from the Sweep and began to untie the string. "Matches—that's what we need!" he went on, panting with excitement.
"Here," said the Matchman's quiet voice. He had followed the children into the Park and was standing behind them with his lighted candle.
The Park Keeper opened a bundle of Squibs.
"They're ours, you know!" Michael reminded him.
"Ah, let me help you—do!" said the Keeper. "I've never 'ad fun on Guy Fawkes' Day—never since I was a boy!"
And without waiting for permission, he lit the Squibs at the Matchman's candle. The hissing streams of fire poured out, and pop, pop, pop, went the crackers. The Park Keeper seized a Catherine Wheel and stuck it on a branch. The rings of light began to turn and sparkled on the air. And after that he was so excited that nothing could stop him. He went on lighting fuse after fuse as though he had gone mad.
Flower Pots streamed from the dewy grass and Golden Rain flowed down through the darkness. Top Hats burned for a bright short moment; Balloons went floating up to the branches; and Firesnakes writhed in the shadows. The children jumped and squeaked and shouted. The Park Keeper ran about among them like a large frenzied dog. And amid the noise and the sparkling lights the Matchman waited quietly. The flame of his candle never wavered as they lit their fuses from it.
"Now!" cried the Keeper, who was hoarse with shouting. "Now we come to the rockets!"
All the other fireworks had gone. Nothing remained in the nobbly parcel except three long black sticks.
"No you don't!" said the Sweep, as the Keeper snatched them. "Share and share. That's fair!" He gave the Keeper one rocket and kept the others for himself and the children.
"Make way, make way!" said the Keeper importantly, as he lit the fuse at the candle flame and stuck the stick in the ground.
Hissing and guttering, the spark ran down like a little golden thread. Then—whoop! went the stick as it shot away. Up in the sky the children heard a small faraway bang. And a swirl of red-and-blue stars broke out and rained upon the Park.
"Oh!" cried the children. And "Oh!" cried the Sweep. For that is the only word anyone can say when a rocket's stars break out.
Then it was the Sweep's turn. The candle-light gleamed on his black face as he lit the fuse of his rocket. Then came a whoop and another bang and white-and-green stars spread over the sky like the ribs of a bright umbrella. And again the watchers all cried "Oh!" and sighed for sheer joy.
"It's our turn now!" cried Jane and Michael. And their fingers trembled as they lit the fuse. They pressed the stick down into the earth and stepped back to watch. The thread of golden fire ran down. Whe-e-e-ew! Up went the stick with a singing sound, up to the very top of the sky. And Jane and Michael held their breath as they waited for it to burst.
At last, far away and very faint, they heard the little bang.
Now for the stars, they thought to themselves.
But—alas!—nothing happened.
"Oh!" said everyone again—not for joy this time, but for disappointment. For no stars broke from the third rocket. There was nothing but darkness and the empty sky.
"Tticksy—that's what they are!" said the Sweep. "There are some as just doesn't go off! Well, come on home, all. There's no good staring. Nothing will come down now!"
"Closing Time! Everyone out of the Park!" cried the Park Keeper importantly.
But Jane and Michael took no notice. They stood there watching, hand in hand. For their hopeful eyes had noticed something that nobody else had seen. Up in the sky a tiny spark hovered and swayed in the darkness. What could it be? Not the stick of the rocket, for that must have fallen long ago. And certainly not a star, they thought, for the little spark was moving.
"Perhaps it's a special kind of rocket that has only one spark," said Michael.
"Perhaps," Jane answered quietly, as she watched the tiny light.
They stood together, gazing upwards. Even if there was only one spark they would watch till it went out. But, strangely enough, it did not go out. In fact, it was growing larger.
"Let's get a move on!" urged the Sweep. And again the Park Keeper cried:
"Closing Time!"
But still they waited. And still the spark grew ever larger and brighter. Then suddenly Jane caught her breath. And Michael gave a gasp. Oh, was it possible—? Could it be—? they silently asked each other.
Down came the spark, growing longer and wider. And as it came, it took on a shape that was strange and also familiar. Out of the glowing core of light emerged a curious figure—a figure in a black straw hat and a blue coat trimmed with silver buttons—a figure that carried in one hand something that looked like a carpet bag, and in the other—oh, could it be true?—a parrot-headed umbrella.
Behind them the Matchman gave a cry and ran through the Park Gates.
The curious figure was drifting now to the tops of the naked trees. Its feet touched the highest bough of an oak and stepped down daintily through the branches. It stood for a moment on the lowest bough and balanced itself neatly.
Jane and Michael began to run and their breath broke from them in a happy shout.
"Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins!" Half-laughing, half-weeping, they flung themselves upon her.
"You've c-come b-back, at 1-last!" stammered Michael excitedly, as he clutched her neatly shod foot. It was warm and bony and quite real and it smelt of Black Boot-polish.
"We knew you'd come back. We trusted you!" Jane seized Mary Poppins' other foot and dragged at her cotton stocking.
Mary Poppins' mouth crinkled with the ghost of a smile. Then she looked at the children fiercely.
"I'll thank you to let go my shoes!" she snapped. "I am not an object in a Bargain Basement!"
She shook them off and stepped down from the tree, as John and Barbara, mewing like kittens, rushed over the grass towards her.
"Hyenas!" she said with an angry glare, as she loosened their clutching fingers. "And what, may I ask, are you all doing—running about in the Park at night and looking like Blackamoors?"
Quickly they pulled out handkerchiefs and began to rub their cheeks.
"My fault, Miss Poppins," the Sweep apologised. "I been sweeping the Drawing-room chimbley."
"Somebody will be sweeping you, if you don't look out!" she retorted.
"But-but! Glog-glog! Er-rumph! Glug-glug!" Speechless with astonishment, the Park Keeper blocked their path.
"Out of my way, please!" said Mary Poppins, haughtily brushing him aside as she pushed the children in front of her.
"This is the Second Time!" he gasped, suddenly finding his voice. "First it's a Kite and now it's a—You can't do things like this, I tell you! It's against the Law. And, furthermore, it's all against Nature."
Out of the glowing core of light emerged a curious figure
He flung out his hand in a wild gesture and Mary Poppins popped into it a small piece of cardboard.
"Wot's this?" he demanded, turning it over.
"My Return Ticket," she calmly replied.
And Jane and Michael looked at each other and nodded wisely together.
"Ticket—wot ticket? Buses have tickets and so do trains. But you came down on I-don't-know-what! Where did you come from? 'Ow did you get 'ere? That's what I want to know!"
"Curiosity Killed a Cat!" said Mary Poppins primly. She pushed the Park Keeper to one side and left him staring at the little green ticket as though it were a ghost.
The
children danced and leapt about her as they came to the Park Gates.
"Walk quietly, please," she told them crossly. "You are not a School of Porpoises! And which of you, I'd like to know, has been playing with lighted candles?"
The Matchman scrambled up from his knees.
"I lit it, Mary," he said eagerly. "I wanted to write you a——" He waved his hands. And there on the pavement, not quite finished, was the one word
WELCOM
Mary Poppins smiled at the coloured letters. "That's a lovely greeting, Bert," she said softly.
The Matchman seized her black-gloved hand, and looked at her eagerly. "Shall I see you on Thursday, Mary?" he asked.
She nodded. "Thursday, Bert," she said. Then she flung a withering look at the children. "No dawdling, if you please!" she commanded, as she hurried them across the Lane to Number Seventeen.
Up in the Nursery Annabel was screaming her head off. Mrs. Banks was running along the hall, calling out soothing phrases. As the children opened the Front Door, she gave one look at Mary Poppins, and collapsed upon the stairs.
"Can it be you, Mary Poppins?" she gasped.
"It can, ma'am," Mary Poppins said calmly.
"But—where did you spring from?" Mrs. Banks cried.
"She sprang right out of a——" Michael was just about to explain when he felt Mary Poppins' eyes upon him. He knew very well what that look meant. He stammered and was silent.
"I came from the Park, ma'am," said Mary Poppins, with the patient air of a martyr.
"Thank goodness!" breathed Mrs. Banks from her heart. Then she remembered all that had happened since Mary Poppins had left them. I mustn't seem too pleased, she thought. Or she'll be more uppish than ever!
"You left me Without a Word, Mary Poppins," she said with an air of dignity. "I think you might tell me when you're coming and going. I never know where I am."
"Nobody does, ma'am," said Mary Poppins, as she calmly unbuttoned her gloves.
"Don't you, Mary Poppins?" asked Mrs. Banks, in a very wistful voice.
"Oh, she knows," Michael answered daringly. Mary Poppins gave him an angry glare.
"Well, you're here now, anyway!" Mrs. Banks cried. She felt extremely relieved. For now she need neither advertise nor send for Miss Andrew.
"Yes, ma'am. Excuse me," said Mary Poppins.
And she neatly stepped past Mrs. Banks and put her carpet bag on the bannisters. It slid up swiftly with a whistling sound and bounced into the Nursery. Then she gave the umbrella a little toss. It spread its black silk wings like a bird and flew up after the carpet bag with a parrot-like squawk.
The children gave an astonished gasp and turned to see if their Mother had noticed.
But Mrs. Banks had no thought for anything but to get to the telephone.
"The Drawing-room chimney has been cleaned. We are having Lamb Chops and peas for dinner. And Mary Poppins is back!" she cried, breathlessly.
"I don't believe it!" crackled Mr. Banks' voice. "I shall come and see for myself!"
Mrs. Banks smiled happily as she hung up the receiver....
Mary Poppins went primly up the stairs and the children tore past her into the Nursery. There on the hearth lay the carpet bag. And standing in its usual corner was the parrot-headed umbrella. They had a settled, satisfied air as though they had been there for years. In the cradle, Annabel, blue in the face, was tying herself into knots. She stared in surprise at Mary Poppins, and smiled a toothless smile. Then she put on her Innocent Angel look and began to play tunes on her toes.
"Humph!" said Mary Poppins grimly, as she put her straw hat in its paper bag. She took off her coat and hung it up on the hook behind the door. Then she glanced at herself in the Nursery mirror and stooped to unlock the carpet bag.
It was quite empty except for a curled-up Tape Measure.
"What's that for, Mary Poppins?" asked Jane.
"To measure you," she replied quickly. "To see how you've grown."
"You needn't bother," Michael informed her. "We've all grown two inches. Daddy measured us."
"Stand straight, please!" Mary Poppins said calmly, ignoring the remark. She measured him from his head to his feet and gave a loud sniff.
"I might have known it!" she said, snorting. "You've grown Worse and Worse."
Michael stared. "Tape Measures don't tell words, they tell inches," he said, protestingly.
"Since when?" she demanded haughtily, as she thrust it under his nose. There on the Tape were the tell-tale words in big blue letters:
W-O-R-S-E A-N-D W-O-R-S-E
"Oh!" he said, in a horrified whisper.
"Head up, please!" said Mary Poppins, stretching the Tape against Jane.
"Jane has grown into a Wilful, Lazy, Selfish child," she read out in triumph.
The tears came pricking into Jane's eyes. "Oh, I haven't, Mary Poppins!" she cried. For, funnily enough, she only remembered the times when she had been good.
Mary Poppins slipped the Tape round the Twins. "Quarrelsome" was their measurement. "Fretful and Spoilt," was Annabel's.
"I thought so!" Mary Poppins said, sniffing. "I've only got to turn my back for you to become a Menagerie!"
She drew the Tape round her own waist; and a satisfied smile spread over her face.
"Better Than Ever. Practically Perfect," her own measurement read.
"No more than I expected," she preened. And added, with a furious glare, "Now, spit-spot into the Bathroom!"
They hurried eagerly to obey her. For now that Mary Poppins was back, everything went with a swing. They undressed and bathed in the wink of an eye. Nobody dawdled over Supper, nobody left a crumb or a drop. They pushed in their chairs, folded their napkins and scrambled into bed.
Up and down the Nursery went Mary Poppins, tucking them all in. They could smell her old familiar smell, a mixture of toast and starchy aprons. They could feel her old familiar shape, solid and real beneath her clothes. They watched her in adoring silence, drinking her in.
Michael, as she passed his bed, peered over the edge and under it. There was nothing there except dust and slippers. Then he peeped under Jane's bed. Nothing there, either.
"But where are you going to sleep, Mary Poppins?" he enquired curiously.
As he spoke, she touched the door of the clothes cupboard. It burst open noisily and out of it, with a graceful sweep, came the old camp bed. It was made up, ready to be slept in. And upon it, in a neat pile, were Mary Poppins' possessions. There were the Sun-light Soap and the hairpins, the bottle of scent, the folding armchair, the toothbrush and the lozenges. The nightgowns, cotton, and flannel as well, were tidily laid on the pillow. And beside them were the boots and the dominoes, and the bathing-caps and the postcard album.
The children sat up in a gaping row.
"But how did it get in there?" demanded Michael. "There wasn't a sign of it today. I know, 'cos I hid there from Ellen!"
He dared not go on with his questions, however, for Mary Poppins looked so haughty that the words froze on his lips. With a sniff, she turned away from him and unfolded a flannel nightgown.
Jane and Michael looked at each other. And their eyes said all that their tongues could not: It's no good expecting her to explain, they told each other silently.
They watched her comical scarecrow movements as she undressed beneath the nightgown. Clip, clip—the buttons flew apart. Off went her petticoat—swish, swish, swish! A peaceful feeling stole into the children. And they knew that it came from Mary Poppins. Dreamily watching the wriggling nightgown, they thought of all that had happened. How she had first arrived at the house, blown by the West Wind. How her umbrella had carried her off when the wind went round to the East. They thought how she had come back to them on the day when they flew the Kite; and how she had ridden away once more and left them lonely for her comforting presence.
Well, now—they sighed happily—she was back again, and just the same as ever. Here she was, settling down in the Nursery, as calmly as though she had never
left it. The thoughts he was thinking rose up in Michael like bubbles in soda water. And before he could stop them, they burst right out.
"Oh, Mary Poppins," he cried, eagerly, "it's been just awful without you!"
Her lip quivered. It seemed as though a smile might break out. But it changed its mind and didn't.
"You've been awful—that's more like it! This house is nothing but a Bear Garden. I wonder anyone stays in it!"
"But you will, won't you?" he said wheedlingly.
"We'll be good as gold, if only you'll stay!" Jane promised solemnly.
She looked from one to the other calmly, seeing right down inside their hearts and understanding everything.
"I'll stay——" she said, after a little pause. "I'll stay till the door opens." And as she spoke she gazed thoughtfully at the door of the Nursery.
Jane gave a little anxious cry. "Oh, don't say that, Mary Poppins!" she wailed. "That door is always opening!"
Mary Poppins glared.
"I meant the Other Door," she said, as she buttoned up her nightgown.
"What can she mean?" Jane whispered to Michael.
"I know what she means," he answered cleverly. "There isn't any other door. And a door that isn't there, can't open. So she's going to stay forever." He hugged himself happily at the thought.
Jane, however, was not so sure. I wonder, she thought to herself.
But Michael went on cheerfully babbling.
"I'm glad I shook hands with the Sweep," he said. "It brought us wonderful luck. Perhaps he'll do the Nursery next and shake hands with you, Mary Poppins!"
"Pooh!" she replied, with a toss of her head. "I don't need any luck, thank you!"
"No," he said thoughtfully, "I suppose you don't. Anyone who can come out of a rocket—as you did tonight—must be born lucky. I mean—er—oh, don't look at me!"
He gave a little beseeching cry, for Mary Poppins was glaring at him in a way that made him shudder. Standing there in her flannel nightgown, she seemed to freeze him in his cosy bed.
"I wonder if I heard you correctly?" she enquired in an icy voice. "Did I understand you to mention Me—in connection with a Rocket?" She said the word "Rocket" in such a way as to make it seem quite shocking.