Mary Poppins Opens the Door

'But he did!' cried Jane and Michael together. 'We all went round on musical boxes. Each of us to our own true music. And yours was 'Pop Goes the Weasel.''

Her eyes blazed sternly through the darkness. She seemed to grow larger as she glared.

'Each to our — weasel? Round and round?' Really, she was so angry she could hardly get the words out.

'On top of a musical box, did you say? So, this is what I get for my pains! You spend the afternoon with a well-brought up, self-respecting pair like my cousin and myself. And all you can do afterwards is to make a mock of us. Round and round with a weasel, indeed! For Two Pins I'd leave you — here, on this spot — and never come back! I warn you!'

'On top of a musical weasel!' she fumed, as she stalked through the gathering dusk.

Snap, snap, went her heels along the pavement. Even her back had an angry look.

Jane and Michael hurried after her. It was no good arguing with Mary Poppins, especially when she looked like that. The best thing to do was to say nothing. And be glad there was nobody in the Lane to offer her Two Pins. In silence they walked along beside her, and thought of the afternoon's adventure and looked at each other and wondered….

'Oh, Mary Poppins!' said Mrs. Banks brightly, as she opened the front door. 'I'm sorry, but I don't need your cousin, after all. I tried the piano again just now. And it's quite in tune. In fact, better than ever.'

'I'm glad of that, ma'am,' said Mary Poppins, stealing a glance at herself in the mirror. 'My cousin will make no charge.'

'Well, I should think not!' cried Mrs. Banks indignantly. 'Why, he hasn't even been here.'

'Exactly, ma'am,' said Mary Poppins. She sniffed as she turned towards the stairs.

Jane and Michael exchanged a secret look.

'That must have been the seventh wish!' Michael whispered. And Jane gave an answering nod.

Jug, jug, jug, jug — tereu!

From the Park came a shower of wild sweet music. It had a familiar sound.

'What can that be?' cried Mrs. Banks as she ran to the door to listen. 'Good gracious! It's a Nightingale!'

Down from the branches fell the song, note by note, like plums from a tree. It burnt upon the evening air. It throbbed through the listening dusk.

'How very strange!' said Mrs. Banks. 'They never sing in the city!'

Behind her back the children nodded and looked at each other wisely.

'It's Mr. Twigley's,' murmured Jane.

'He's set it free!' answered Michael softly.

And they knew, as they listened to the burning song, that somewhere, somehow, Mr. Twigley was true — as true as his little golden bird that was singing now in the Park.

The Nightingale sang once more and was silent.

Mrs. Banks sighed and shut the door. 'I wish I knew where he came from!' she said dreamily.

But Jane and Michael, who could have told her, were already half-way up the stairs. So they said nothing. There were things that could be explained, they knew, and things that could not be explained.

Besides, there were Currant Buns for Tea and they knew what Mary Poppins would say if they dared to keep her waiting….

CHAPTER 3 THE CAT THAT LOOKED AT A KING

MICHAEL had toothache. He lay in bed groaning and looking at Mary Poppins out of the corner of his eye.

There she sat, in the old arm chair, busily winding wool. Jane knelt before her, holding the skein. Up from the garden came the cries of the Twins as they played on the lawn with Ellen and Annabel. It was quiet and peaceful in the Nursery. The clock made a clucking, satisfied sound like a hen that has laid an egg-

'Why should I have toothache and not Jane?' complained Michael. He pulled the scarf Mary Poppins had lent him more tightly round his cheek.

'Because you ate too many sweets yesterday,' Mary Poppins replied tartly.

'But it was my Birthday!' he protested.

'A Birthday's no reason for turning yourself into a Dustbin! I don't have toothache after mine.'

Michael glared at her. Sometimes he wished Mary Poppins was not quite so Perfectly Perfect. But he never dared to say so.

'If I die,' he warned her, 'you'll be sorry. You'll wish you'd been a bit nicer!'

She sniffed contemptuously and went on winding.

Holding his cheek in his two hands he gazed round the Nursery. Everything there had the familiar look of an old friend. The wall paper, the rocking-horse, the worn red carpet. His eyes wandered to the mantelpiece.

There lay the Compass and the Doulton Bowl, the jam-jar full of daisies, the stick of his old Kite and Mary Poppins' Tape Measure. And there, too, was the present Aunt Flossie had given him yesterday — the little Cat of white china patterned with blue-and-green flowers. It sat there with its paws together and its tail neatly curled about them. The sunlight shone on its china back; its green eyes gazed gravely across the room. Michael gave it a friendly smile. He was fond of Aunt Flossie and he liked the present she had brought him.

Then his tooth gave another dreadful stab.

'Ow!' he shrieked, 'It's digging a hole right into my gum!' He glanced pathetically at Mary Poppins. 'And nobody cares!' he added bitterly.

Mary Poppins tossed him a mocking smile.

'Don't look at me like that!' he complained.

'Why not? A Cat can look at a King, I suppose!'

'But I'm not a king—' he grumbled crossly, 'and you're not a cat, Mary Poppins!' He hoped she would argue with him about it and take his mind off his tooth.

'Do you mean any cat can look at the King? Could Michael's cat?' demanded Jane.

Mary Poppins glanced up. Her blue eyes gazed at the Cat's green eyes and the Cat returned her look.

There was a pause.

'Any cat,' said Mary Poppins at last. 'But that cat more than most.'

Smiling to herself, she took up the ball of wool again and something stirred on the mantelpiece. The china cat twitched its china whisker and lifted its head and yawned. The children could see its glistening teeth and a long pink cat's tongue. The Cat then arched its flowery back and stretched itself lazily. And after that, with a wave of its tail, it leapt from the mantelpiece.

Plop! went the four paws on the carpet. Purr! said the Cat as it crossed the hearth-rug. It paused for a moment by Mary Poppins and gave her a little nod. Then it sprang upon the window-sill, dived out into the shining sunlight and disappeared.

Michael forgot his toothache and gaped.

Jane dropped her skein and stared.

'But—' they both stammered. 'How? Why?

Where?'

'To see the Queen,' Mary Poppins answered. 'She's At Home every Second Friday. Don't stare like that, Jane — the wind might change! Close your mouth, Michael! Your tooth will get cold.'

'But I want to know what happened!' he cried. 'He's made of china. He isn't real. And yet — he jumped! I saw him.'