Mary Poppins in the Park

Miss Lark,' he muttered, 'feedin 'im all that dainty food! 'E's twice the size he was yesterday!'

'That's not Willoughby!' said Michael. 'It's a much, much larger dog.'

'It isn't a dog at all!' cried Jane. 'It's a—'

'Lumme! You're right!' The Policeman stared. 'It's not a dog — it's a lion!'

'Oh, what shall I do?' wailed the Park Keeper. 'Nothing like this ever 'appened before, not even when I was a boy!'

'Go and get someone from the Zoo — it must have escaped from there! Here, you two—' the Policeman cried. He caught the children and swung them up to the top of a near-by fountain. 'You stay there while I head him off!'

'Observe the rules!' shrieked the Park Keeper. 'No lions allowed in the Park!' He gave one look at the tawny shape and ran in the opposite direction.

The Lion swung his head about, glancing along Cherry Tree Lane and then across the lawns. Then he leapt from the wall with a swift movement and made for the Long Walk. His curly mane blew out in the breeze like a large lacy collar.

'Take care!' cried Jane to the Policeman, as he darted forward with arms outspread. It would be sad indeed, she felt, if that manly figure were gobbled up.

'Gurrrr!' the Policeman shouted fiercely.

His voice was so loud and full of warning that everyone in the Park was startled.

Miss Lark, who was knitting by the Lake, came hurrying to the Long Walk with her dogs in close attendance.

'Such a commotion!' she twittered shrilly. 'Whatever is the matter? Oh!' she cried, running round in a circle. 'What shall I do? It's a wild beast! Send for the Prime Minister!'

'Get up a tree!' the Policeman yelled, shaking his fist at the Lion.

'Which tree? Oh, how undignified!'

'That one!' screamed Michael, waving his hand.

Gulping and panting, Miss Lark climbed up, her hair catching in every twig and her knitting wool winding around her legs.

'Andrew and Willoughby, come up, please!' she called down, anxiously. But the dogs were not going to lose their heads. They composed themselves at the foot of the tree and waited to see what would happen.

By this time everyone in the Park had become aware of the Lion. Terrified shouts rang through the air as people swung themselves into the branches or hid behind seats or statues.

'Call out the Firemen!' they all cried. 'Tell the Lord Mayor! Send for a rope!'

But the Lion noticed none of them. He crossed the lawn in enormous leaps, making direct for the blue serge shape of the Officer of the Law.

'Gurrrr, I said!' the Policeman roared, taking out his baton.

The Lion merely tossed his head and flung himself into a crouching position. A ripple ran through all his muscles as he made ready to spring.

'Oh, save him, somebody!' cried Jane, with an anxious glance at the manly figure.

'Help!' screamed a voice from every tree.

'Prime Minister!' cried Miss Lark again.

And then the Lion sprang. He sped like an arrow through the air and landed beside the big black boots.

'Be off, I say!' the Policeman shouted, in a last protesting cry.

But as he spoke a strange thing happened. The Lion rolled over on his back and waved his legs in the air.

'Just like a kitten,' whispered Michael. But he held Jane's hand a little tighter.

'Away with you!' the Policeman bellowed, waving his baton again.

But as though the words were as sweet as music, the Lion put out a long red tongue and licked the Policeman's boots.

'Stop it, I tell you! Get along off!'

But the Lion only wagged its tail and, springing up on its hind legs, it clasped the blue serge jacket.

'Help! Oh, help!' the Policeman gasped.

'Coming!' croaked a hoarse voice, as the Park Keeper crawled to the edge of the Walk with an empty litter- basket over his head.

Beside him crept a small thin man with a butterfly net in his hand.

'I brought the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens!' the Park Keeper hissed at the Policeman. 'Go on!' he urged the little man. 'It's your property — take it away!'

The Keeper of the Zoological Gardens darted behind a fountain. He took a careful look at the Lion as it hugged the dark blue waist.

'Not one of ours!' He shook his head. 'It's far too red and curly. Seems to know you! ' he called to the Policeman. 'What are you — a lion tamer?'

'Never saw him before in my life!' The head in the helmet turned aside.

The Lion… clasped the blue serge jacket

'Oh, wurra! wurra!' the Lion growled, in a voice that held a note of reproach.

'Will nobody send for the Prime Minister?' Miss Lark's voice shrilled from her maple bough.

'I have been sent for, my dear madam!' a voice observed from the next tree. An elderly gentleman in striped trousers was scrambling into the branches.

'Then do something!' ordered Miss Lark, in a frenzy.

'Shoo!' said the Prime Minister earnestly, waving his hat at the Lion.

But the Lion bared its teeth in a grin as it hugged the Policeman closer.

'Now, what's the trouble? Who sent for me?' cried a loud impatient voice.

The Lord Mayor hurried along the Walk with his Aldermen at his heels.

'Good gracious! What are you doing, Smith?' He stared in disgust at the Park Keeper. 'Come out of that basket and stand up straight! It is there to be used for litter, Smith, and not some foolish game.'

'I'm usin' it for armour, your Worship! There's a lion in the Park!'

'A lion, Smith? What nonsense you talk! The lions are in the Zoo!'

'A lion?' echoed the Aldermen. 'Ha, ha! What a silly story!'

'It's true!' yelled Jane and Michael at once. 'Look out! He's just behind you!'

The three portly figures turned, and their faces grew pale as marble.

The Lord Mayor waved a feeble hand at the trembling Aldermen.

'Get me water! Wine! Hot milk!' he moaned.

But for once the Aldermen disobeyed. Hot milk, indeed! they seemed to say as they dragged him to the Prime Minister's tree and pushed him into the branches.

'Police! Police!' the Lord Mayor cried, catching hold of a bough.

'I'm here, your Honour!' the Policeman panted, pushing away a tawny paw.

But the Lion took this for a mark of affection.

'Gurrrrumph!' he said in a husky voice, as he clasped the Policeman tighter.

'Oh, dear! Oh, dear!' Miss Lark wailed. 'Has nobody got a gun?'

'A dagger! A sword! A crowbar!' cried the voices from every tree.

The Park was ringing with shouts and screams. The Park Keeper rattled his stick on the litter-basket. 'Yoo- hoo!' cried the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens to distract the Lion's attention. The Lion was growling. The Policeman was yelling. The Lord Mayor and the Aldermen were still crying 'Police!'

Then suddenly a silence fell. And a neat, trim figure appeared on the path. Straight on she came, as a ship into port, with the perambulator wheeling before her and the tulip standing up stiff on her hat.

Creak went the wheels.

Tap went her shoes.

And the watching faces grew pale with horror as she tripped towards the Lion.

'Go back, Mary Poppins!' screamed Miss Lark, breaking the awful silence. 'Save yourself and the little ones! There's a wild beast down on the path!'