More about Mary Poppins / И снова о Мэри Поппинз

“It’s the true one, then,” Mary Poppins said, tying Barbara’s socks firmly round her ankles.

“Well, it’s Jane and Michael who are silly,” John continued. “I know I shan’t forget when I get older.”

“Nor I,” said Barbara, contentedly sucking her finger.

“Yes, you will,” said Mary Poppins firmly.

The Twins sat up and looked at her.

“Huh!” said the Starling contemptuously. “Look at ’em! They think they’re the World’s Wonders. Little miracles – I don’t think! Of course you’ll forget – same as Jane and Michael.”

“We won’t,” said the Twins, looking at the Starling as if they would like to murder him.

The Starling jeered.

“I say you will,” he insisted. “It isn’t your fault, of course,” he added more kindly. “You’ll forget because you just can’t help it. There never was a human being that remembered after the age of one – at the very latest – except, of course, Her.” And he jerked his head over his shoulder at Mary Poppins.

“But why can she remember and not us?” said John.

“A-a-a-h! She’s different. She’s the Great Exception. Can’t go by her,*” said the Starling, grinning at them both.

John and Barbara were silent.

The Starling went on explaining.

“She’s something special, you see. Not in the matter of looks, of course. One of my own day-old chicks is handsomer than Mary P. ever was – ”

“Here, you impertinence!” said Mary Poppins crossly, making a dart at him and flicking her apron in his direction. But the Starling leapt aside and flew up to the window-frame, whistling wickedly, well out of reach.

“Thought you had me that time, didn’t you?” he jeered and shook his wing-feathers at her.

Mary Poppins snorted.

The sunlight moved on through the room, drawing its long gold shaft after it. Outside a light wind had sprung up and was whispering gently to the cherry-trees in the Lane.

“Listen, listen, the Wind’s talking,” said John, tilting his head on one side. “Do you really mean we won’t be able to hear that when we’re older, Mary Poppins?”

“You’ll hear all right,” said Mary Poppins, “but you won’t understand.” At that Barbara began to weep gently. There were tears in John’s eyes, too. “Well, it can’t be helped. It’s how things happen,” said Mary Poppins sensibly.

“Look at them, just look at them!” jeered the Starling. “Crying fit to kill themselves! Why, a starling in the egg’s got more sense. Look at them!”

For John and Barbara were now crying piteously in their cots – long-drawn sobs of deep unhappiness.

Suddenly the door opened and in came Mrs Banks.

“I thought I heard the babies,” she said. Then she ran to the Twins. “What is it, my darlings? Oh, my Treasures, my Sweets, my Love-birds, what is it? Why are they crying so, Mary Poppins? They’ve been so quiet all the afternoon – not a sound out of them. What can be the matter?”

“Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. I expect they’re getting their teeth*, ma’am,” said Mary Poppins, deliberately not looking in the direction of the Starling.

“Oh, of course – that must be it,” said Mrs Banks brightly.

“I don’t want teeth if they make me forget all the things I like best,” wailed John, tossing about in his cot.

“Neither do I,” wept Barbara, burying her face in her pillow.

“My poor ones, my pets – it will be all right when the naughty old teeth come through,” said Mrs Banks soothingly, going from one cot to another.

“You don’t understand!” roared John furiously. “I don’t want teeth.”

“It won’t be all right, it will be all wrong!” wailed Barbara to her pillow.

“Yes – yes. There – there.* Mother knows – Mother understands. It will be all right when the teeth come through,” crooned Mrs Banks tenderly.

A faint noise came from the window. It was the Starling hurriedly swallowing a laugh. Mary Poppins gave him one look. That sobered him, and he continued to regard the scene without the hint of a smile.

Mrs Banks was patting her children gently, first one and then the other, and murmuring words that were meant to be reassuring. Suddenly John stopped crying. He had very good manners, and he was fond of his Mother and remembered what was due to her. It was not her fault, poor woman, that she always said the wrong thing. It was just, he reflected, that she did not understand. So, to show that he forgave her, he turned over on his back, and very dolefully, sniffing back his tears, he picked up his right foot in both hands and ran his toes along his open mouth.

“Clever One, oh, Clever One,” said his Mother admiringly. He did it again and she was very pleased.

Then Barbara, not to be outdone in courtesy, came out of her pillow and with her tears still wet on her face, sat up and plucked off both her socks.

“Wonderful Girl,” said Mrs Banks proudly, and kissed her.

“There, you see, Mary Poppins! They’re quite good again. I can always comfort them. Quite good, quite good,” said Mrs Banks, as though she were singing a lullaby. “And the teeth will soon be through.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Mary Poppins quietly; and smiling to the Twins, Mrs Banks went out and closed the door.

The moment she had disappeared the Starling burst into a peal of rude laughter.

“Excuse me smiling!” he cried. “But really – I can’t help it. What a scene! What a scene!”

John took no notice of him. He pushed his face through the bars of his cot and called softly and fiercely to Barbara:

“I won’t be like the others. I tell you I won’t. They,” he jerked his head towards the Starling and Mary Poppins, “can say what they like. I’ll never forget, never!”

Mary Poppins smiled, a secret, I-know-better-than-you sort of smile, all to herself.

“Nor I,” answered Barbara. “Ever.”

“Bless my tail-feathers – listen to them!” shrieked the Starling, as he put his wings on his hips and roared with mirth. “As if they could help forgetting! Why, in a month or two – three at the most – they won’t even know what my name is – silly cuckoos! Silly, half-grown, featherless cuckoos! Ha! Ha! Ha!” And with another loud peal of laughter he spread his speckled wings and flew out of the window…

* * *

It was not very long afterwards that the teeth, after much trouble, came through as all teeth must, and the Twins had their first birthday.

The day after the birthday party the Starling, who had been away on holiday at Bournemouth*, came back to Number Seventeen. Cherry-Tree Lane.

“Hullo, hullo, hullo! Here we are again!” he screamed joyfully, landing with a little wobble upon the window-sill.

“Well, how’s the girl?” he enquired cheekily of Mary Poppins, cocking his little head on one side and regarding her with bright, amused, twinkling eyes.

“None the better for your asking,*” said Mary Poppins, tossing her head.

The Starling laughed.

“Same old Mary P.,” he said. “No change out of you! How are the other ones – the cuckoos?” he asked, and looked across at Barbara’s cot.

“Well, Barbarina,” he began in his soft, wheedling voice, “anything for the old fellow today?”

“Be-lah-belah-belah-belah!” said Barbara, crooning gently as she continued to eat her arrowroot biscuit.

The Starling, with a start of surprise, hopped a little nearer.

“I said,” he repeated more distinctly, “is there anything for the old fellow today, Barbie dear?”

“Ba-loo – ba-loo – ba-loo,” murmured Barbara, staring at the ceiling as she swallowed the last sweet crumb.

The Starling stared at her.

“Ha!” he said suddenly, and turned and looked enquiringly at Mary Poppins. Her quiet glance met his in a long look.

Then with a darting movement the Starling flew over to John’s cot and alighted on the rail. John had a large woolly lamb hugged close in his arms.

“What’s my name? What’s my name? What’s my name?” cried the Starling in a shrill anxious voice.

“Er-umph!” said John, opening his mouth and putting the leg of the woolly lamb into it.

With a little shake of the head the Starling turned away.

“So – it’s happened,” he said quietly to Mary Poppins.

She nodded.

The Starling gazed dejectedly for a moment at the Twins. Then he shrugged his speckled shoulders.

“Oh, well – I knew it would. Always told ’em so. But they wouldn’t believe it.” He remained silent for a little while, staring into the cots. Then he shook himself vigorously.

“Well, well. I must be off. Back to my chimney. It will need a spring-cleaning*, I’ll be bound.*” He flew on to the window-sill and paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“It’ll seem funny without them, though. Always liked talking to them – so I did. I shall miss them.”

He brushed his wing quickly across his eyes.

“Crying?” jeered Mary Poppins. The Starling drew himself up.

“Crying? Certainly not. I have – er – a slight cold, caught on my return journey – that’s all. Yes, a slight cold. Nothing serious.” He darted up to the window-pane, brushed down his breast-feathers with his beak and then, “Cheerio!” he said perkily, and spread his wings and was gone…

Full Moon

All day long Mary Poppins had been in a hurry, and when she was in a hurry she was always cross.

Everything Jane did was bad, everything Michael did was worse. She even snapped at the Twins.

Jane and Michael kept out of her way as much as possible, for they knew that there were times when it was better not to be seen or heard by Mary Poppins.

“I wish we were invisible,” said Michael, when Mary Poppins had told him that the very sight of him was more than any self-respecting person could be expected to stand.

“We shall be,” said Jane, “if we go behind the sofa. We can count the money in our money-boxes, and she may be better after she’s had her supper.”

So they did that.

“Sixpence and four pennies – that’s tenpence, and a halfpenny and a threepenny-bit,” said Jane, counting up quickly.

“Four pennies and three farthings and – and that’s all,” sighed Michael, putting his money in a little heap.

“That’ll do nicely for the poor-box,” said Mary Poppins, looking over the arm of the sofa and sniffing.

“Oh no,” said Michael reproachfully. “It’s for myself. I’m saving.”

“Huh – for one of those aeryoplanes*, I suppose!” said Mary Poppins scornfully.

“No, for an elephant – a private one for myself, like Lizzie at the Zoo. I could take you for rides then,” said Michael, half-looking and half-not-looking at her to see how she would take it.

“Humph,” said Mary Poppins, “what an idea!” But they could see she was not quite so cross as before.

“I wonder,” said Michael thoughtfully, “what happens in the Zoo at night, when everybody’s gone home?”

“Care killed a cat,*” snapped Mary Poppins.

“I wasn’t caring, I was only wondering,” corrected Michael.

“Do you know?” he enquired of Mary Poppins, who was whisking the crumbs off the table in double-quick time.

“One more question from you – and spit-spot, to bed you go!” she said, and began to tidy the Nursery so busily that she looked more like a whirlwind in a cap and apron than a human being.

“It’s no good asking her. She knows everything, but she never tells,” said Jane.

“What’s the good of knowing if you don’t tell anyone?” grumbled Michael, but he said it under his breath so that Mary Poppins couldn’t hear…

Jane and Michael could never remember having been put to bed so quickly as they were that night. Mary Poppins blew out the light very early, and went away as hurriedly as though all the winds of the world were blowing behind her.

It seemed to them that they had been there no time, however, when they heard a low voice whispering at the door.

“Hurry, Jane and Michael!” said the voice. “Get some things on and hurry!”

They jumped out of their beds, surprised and startled.

“Come on,” said Jane. “Something’s happening.” And she began to rummage for some clothes in the darkness.

“Hurry!” called the voice again.

“Oh dear, all I can find is my sailor hat and a pair of gloves!” said Michael, running round the room pulling at drawers and feeling along shelves.

“Those’ll do. Put them on. It isn’t cold. Come on.”

Jane herself had only been able to find a little coat of John’s, but she squeezed her arms into it and opened the door. There was nobody there, but they seemed to hear something hurrying away down the stairs. Jane and Michael followed. Whatever it was, or whoever it was, kept continually in front of them. They never saw it, but they had the distinct sensation of being led on and on by something that constantly beckoned them to follow. Presently they were in the Lane, their slippers making a soft hissing noise on the pavement as they scurried along.

“Hurry!” urged the voice again from a near-by corner, but when they turned it they could still see nothing. They began to run, hand in hand, following the voice down streets, through alley-ways, under arches and across Parks until, panting and breathless, they were brought to a standstill beside a large turnstile in a wall.

“Here you are!” said the voice.

“Where?” called Michael to it. But there was no reply. Jane moved towards the turnstile, dragging Michael by the hand.

“Look!” she said. “Don’t you see where we are? It’s the Zoo!”

A very bright full moon was shining in the sky and by its light Michael examined the iron grating and looked through the bars. Of course! How silly of him not to have known it was the Zoo!

“But how shall we get in?” he said. “We’ve no money.”

“That’s all right!” said a deep, gruff voice from within. “Special Visitors allowed in free tonight. Push the wheel, please!”

Jane and Michael pushed and were through the turnstile in a second.

“Here’s your ticket,” the gruff voice said, and looking up, they found that it came from a huge Brown Bear who was wearing a coat with brass buttons and a peaked cap on his head. In his paw were two pink tickets which he held out to the children.

“But we usually give tickets,” said Jane.

“Usual is as usual does.* Tonight you receive them,” said the Bear, smiling.

Michael had been regarding him closely.

“I remember you,” he said to the Bear. “I once gave you a tin of golden syrup.”

“You did,” said the Bear. “And you forgot to take the lid off. Do you know, I was more than ten days working at that lid? Be more careful in the future.”

“But why aren’t you in your cage? Are you always out at night?” said Michael.

“No – only when the Birthday falls on a Full Moon. But – you must excuse me. I must attend to the gate.” And the Bear turned away and began to spin the handle of the turnstile again.

Jane and Michael, holding their tickets, walked on into the Zoo grounds. In the light of the full moon every tree and flower and shrub was visible, and they could see the houses and cages quite clearly.

“There seems to be a lot going on,” observed Michael.

And, indeed, there was. Animals were running about in all the paths, sometimes accompanied by birds and sometimes alone. Two wolves ran past the children, talking eagerly to a very tall stork who was tip-toeing between them with dainty, delicate movements. Jane and Michael distinctly caught the words “Birthday” and “Full Moon” as they went by.

In the distance three camels were strolling along side by side, and not far away a beaver and an American vulture were deep in conversation. And they all seemed to the children to be discussing the same subject.

“Whose Birthday is it, I wonder?” said Michael, but Jane was moving ahead, gazing at a curious sight.

Just by the Elephant Stand a very large, very fat old gentleman was walking up and down on all fours, and on his back, on two small parallel seats, were eight monkeys going for a ride.

“Why, it’s all upside down!” exclaimed Jane.

The old gentleman gave her an angry look as he went past.

“Upside down!” he snorted. “Me! Upside down? Certainly not. Gross insult!” The eight monkeys laughed rudely.

“Oh, please – I didn’t mean you – but the whole thing,” explained Jane, hurrying after him to apologise. “On ordinary days the animals carry human beings and now there’s a human being carrying the animals. That’s what I meant.”

But the old gentleman, shuffling and panting, insisted that he had been insulted, and hurried away with the monkeys screaming on his back.

Jane saw it was no good following him, so she took Michael’s hand and moved onwards. They were startled when a voice, almost at their feet, hailed them.

“Come on, you two! In you come. Let’s see you dive for a bit of orange-peel you don’t want.” It was a bitter, angry voice, and looking down they saw that it came from a small black Seal who was leering at them from a moonlit pool of water.

“Come on, now – and see how you like it!” he said.

“But – but we can’t swim!” said Michael.

“Can’t help that!” said the Seal. “You should have thought of that before. Nobody ever bothers to find out whether I

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