Mary Poppins Comes Back

by P. L. Travers

  “My dear young relative!” he said graciously. “This is indeed a pleasure. It is long since I had a visitor from the world above the water. And long too since your Second Thursday fell upon our High Tide. Therefore, in the name of the creatures of the deep, I bid you welcome, Mary!” And, blinking, he offered her a small withered flipper.

  Mary Poppins took it and bowed respectfully. Then the china-blue eyes looked into the black ones and a strange smile passed between them. It was as though neither of them had any secrets from the other.

  “And now, dear Mary,” the Terrapin continued, “since nobody comes down to the depths of the sea without taking something away with them, let me give you a little present.”

  He reached his flipper back into the cave and brought out a small bright object. “Take this to remind you of your visit. It will make a nice brooch, or perhaps a hatpin.” And, leaning forward, he pressed a starfish on Mary Poppins’ coat. It shone and twinkled upon the blue like a little cluster of diamonds.

  “Oh, thank you!” she said, with a cry of delight. “It’s exactly what I wanted!”

  She smiled at the Terrapin and then at the star, and her glance slid away to the children. The smile faded instantly. She gave a disgusted sniff.

  “If I’ve told you once, Jane, not to gape, I’ve told you a thousand times! Close your mouth, Michael! You are not a Codfish!”

  “I should think not!” muttered the Cod indignantly, from his place behind the children.

  “So – these are Jane and Michael!” said the Terrapin, as he turned his sleepy eyes upon them. “I am very glad to meet you at last. Welcome, my children, to our High-Tide Party!”

  He bowed gravely and, urged by Mary Poppins’ glare, they bowed in return. “You see,” he went on, in his old, cracked voice, “I know who Jane and Michael are. But I wonder – yes, I wonder indeed, if they know who I am!”

  They shook their heads and gazed at him speechlessly.

  He moved his carapace a little and thoughtfully blinked for a moment. Then he spoke.

  “I am the Terrapin. I dwell at the roots of the world. Under the cities, under the hills, under the very sea itself, I make my home. Up from my dark root, through the waters, the earth rose with its flowers and forests. The man and the mountain sprang from it. The great beasts too, and the birds of the air.”

  He ceased for a moment and the creatures in the sea about him were quiet as they watched him. Then he went on: “I am older than all things that are. Silent and dark and wise am I, and quiet and very patient. Here in my cave all things have their beginning. And all things return to me in the end. I can wait. I can wait. . .”

  He folded his lids upon his eyes and nodded his naked wrinkled head as though he were talking to himself. “I have no more to say,” he said, blinking. “So. . .” he held up a little lordly flipper. “Bid the music play!” he commanded the Seal. “And let the sea-people choose their dance. What shall it be this time, my children?”

  “Tiddy-um-pom-pom, tiddy-um-pom-pom!” hummed a voice like a bee in a bottle.

  “Ah, yes, my dear Admiral!” the Terrapin nodded. “A very suitable suggestion. Strike up the Sailor’s Hornpipe!”

  At once a wild commotion rose. The band broke into swift gay music and the still fish flickered their tails again. Voices and laughter filled the sea and the tide began to move.

  Tiddy-um-pom-pom! Away they went – fishes and mermaids, urchins, seals. The green lawns bent beneath fins and flippers and the coral glimmered with silver shapes.

  “Tiddy-um-pom-pom!” cried Admiral Boom, as he pulled on invisible tarry ropes. “Tiddy-um-pom-pom!” sang Mrs Boom, clasping her hands and rocking her feet. “Tiddy-um-pom-pom!” sang Binnacle loudly, as he thought of his happy pirate days. And the fish danced in and out among them, with sea-flowers hung behind their fins.

  The Bronze Seal flapped up and down on his tail and the Salmon swooped over the lawns like a bird. The Angler-fish pranced by with their rods and the Swordfish and Schoolmaster danced together. And ever among the scaly throng, a dark shape moved like a graceful shadow. Heel and toe, went Mary Poppins, as she danced the Hornpipe on the floor of the sea. The fish swung round her in shining rings and their scales made a dapple of light about her.

  The children stood by the pearly rock and stared at the curious scene.

  “You find it strange, do you not?” said the Terrapin. “I can see you are feeling All at Sea!” He cackled gently at his own little joke.

  Jane nodded. “I thought the Sea would be so different, but really, it’s very like the land!”

  “And why not?” said the Terrapin, blinking. “The land came out of the sea, remember. Each thing on the earth has a brother here – the lion, the dog, the hare, the elephant. The precious gems have their kind in the sea, so have the starry constellations. The rose remembers the salty waters and the moon the ebb and flow of the tide. You too must remember it, Jane and Michael! There are more things in the sea, my children, than ever came out of it. And I don’t mean fish!” the Terrapin smiled. “But I see that your twenty toes are twitching! Be off with you, now, and join the dance.”

  Jane seized Michael by the hand. Then, because she remembered he was very old, she curtsied to the Terrapin before they darted away.

  They plunged together among the fish in time to the beat of the music. Oh, how their bare feet twinkled and pranced! Oh, how their arms waved through the water! And their bodies swayed like strands of sea-weed as they went through the steps of the Sailor’s Hornpipe.

  Tiddy-um-pom-pom! cried the merry music, as Mary Poppins came swimming towards them. She took their hands and they danced together, pulling and rocking through the boughs of coral. Round they went, faster and ever faster, spinning like tops in the spinning water. Till, dazed with the dance and dazzled with lights, they closed their eyes and leant against her. And her arms went round them, firmly, strongly, as she lifted them through the moving tide.

  Tiddy-um-pom-pom! They swung together and the music grew fainter as they swung. Tiddy-um-pom-pom! Oh, the circling sea, that rocks us all in its mighty cradle! Tiddy-um-pom-pom! Oh, Mary Poppins, swing me round like a bubble in the falling tide. Swing me round – tiddy-um. . . Swing me round – pom-pom. . . Swing me. . . Swing me. . . Swing. . .

  “Hold me tight, Mary Poppins!” muttered Michael drowsily, as he felt for her comforting arm.

  There was no answer.

  “Are you there, Mary Poppins?” he said with a yawn, as he leant on the rocking sea.

  Still no answer.

  So, keeping his eyes closed, he called again and the sea seemed to echo his voice. “Mary Poppins, I want you! Mary Poppins, where are you?”

  “Where I always am at this hour in the morning!” she replied with an angry snap.

  “Oh, what a beautiful dance!” he said sleepily. And he put out his hand to draw her to him.

  It touched nothing. All that his searching fingers found was a warm, soft bulkiness suspiciously like a pillow.

  “I’ll thank you to dance yourself out of bed! It is nearly time for breakfast!”

  Her voice had the rumble of distant thunder. And Michael opened his eyes with a start.

  Good gracious! Where was he? Surely it could not be the Nursery! Yet there was Old Dobbin standing still in the corner; and Mary Poppins’ neat camp bed and the toys and the books and his slippers. All the old familiar things were there, but the last thing Michael wanted just now was an old familiar thing.

  “But where’s the sea gone?” he said crossly. “I want to be back in the sea!”

  Her face popped round the bathroom door and he knew at once she was furious.

  “The sea is at Brighton where it always is!” she said, with fierce distinctness. “Now, spit-spot and up you get. And Not Another Word!”

  “But I was in it a moment ago! And so were you, Mary Poppins. We were dancing around among the fish and doing the Sailor’s Hornpipe!”

  “Humph!” she said, giving the bath-mat a shake. �
��I hope I have something better to do than to go out dancing with sailors!”

  He quailed beneath her darkened glare but he knew he would have to go on.

  “Well, what about all the fish?” he demanded. “And the Seal and the Salmon and that funny old Turtle? We were down there with them, Mary Poppins, right on the floor of the sea!”

  “Down in the sea? With a funny old Salmon? Well, you certainly have the fishiest dreams! I suppose you had too many buns for Supper! Sailors and Turtles, indeed! What next?” Her apron gave an angry crackle as she flounced away, muttering.

  He gazed at her retreating back and frowned and shook his head. He dared not say any more, he knew, but she couldn’t stop him wondering.

  So he wondered and wondered as he got out of bed and poked his toes into his slippers. And as he wondered his eyes met Jane’s as she peeped from under the blankets.

  She had heard every word of the argument and, while she had listened, she had thought her own thoughts and her eyes had noticed something. Now she smiled a secret smile at Michael and nodded her head wisely.

  “It was fishy,” she said. “But it wasn’t a dream.” And she pointed to the mantelpiece as she slipped out of bed.

  He looked up. He gave a start of surprise. Then a smile of triumph spread over his face.

  For there, beside the Cowrie Shell, were the two Sand Dollars and a little Pink Starfish.

  “You remember what the Terrapin said? Everyone who goes down to the sea brings something back,” Jane reminded him.

  Michael nodded as he gazed at the Sand Dollars. And at that moment the door burst open and Mary Poppins bounced back. She plucked the Starfish from the mantelpiece and pinned it to her collar. It twinkled brightly as she prinked and pranked in front of the Nursery mirror.

  Michael turned to Jane with a smothered giggle.

  “Tiddy-um-pom-pom!” he hummed under his breath.

  “Tiddy-um-pom-pom!” Jane said in a whisper.

  And, daringly, behind Mary Poppins’ stiff straight back, they danced a few steps of the Hornpipe.

  They never noticed that her bright blue eyes were watching them in the mirror and calmly exchanging with her own reflection a very superior smile. . .

  Chapter Seven

  HAPPY EVER AFTER

  IT WAS THE last day of the Old Year.

  Upstairs in the Nursery, Jane and Michael and the Twins were going through the magical performance known as Undressing. When Mary Poppins set to work, it was almost as good as watching a Conjuror!

  She moved along the row of children and their clothes seemed to fall away at her touch. Over John’s head she pulled the sweater as quickly as though she were skinning a rabbit. Jane’s frock dropped off at a single touch; Barbara’s socks literally ran off her toes. As for Michael, he always felt that Mary Poppins undressed him simply by giving him one of her looks.

  “Now, spit-spot into bed!” she ordered.

  And with the words went such a glare that they fled squealing in all directions and darted under the bedclothes.

  She moved about the Nursery, folding up the scattered clothes and tidying the toys. The children lay cosily in their beds, watching the crackling wing of her apron as it whisked about the room. Her eyes were blue and her cheeks were pink and her nose turned up with a perky air like the nose of a Dutch Doll. To look at her, they thought to themselves, you would never imagine she was anything but a perfectly ordinary person. But, as you know and I know, they had every reason to believe that Appearances are Deceptive.

  Suddenly Michael had an idea that seemed to him very important.

  “I say!” he said, sitting up in bed. “When igzackly does the Old Year end?”

  “Tonight,” said Mary Poppins shortly. “At the first stroke of twelve.”

  “And when does it begin?” he went on.

  “When does what begin?” she snapped.

  “The New Year,” answered Michael patiently.

  “On the last stroke of twelve,” she replied, giving a short sharp sniff.

  “Oh? Then what happens in between?” he demanded.

  “Between what? Can’t you speak properly, Michael? Do you think I’m a Mind Reader?”

  He wanted to say Yes, for that was exactly what he did think. But he knew he would never dare.

  “Between the first and the last stroke,” he explained hurriedly.

  Mary Poppins turned and glared at him.

  “Never trouble Trouble till Trouble troubles you!” she advised priggishly.

  “But I’m not troubling Trouble, Mary Poppins. I was only wanting to know—” he broke off quickly, for Mary Poppins’ face had a Very Ominous look.

  “Then Want must be your Master. Now! If I have One More Word from you—” At the sound of that phrase he dived under the blankets. For he knew very well what it meant.

  Mary Poppins gave another sniff and moved along the row of beds, tucking them all in.

  “I’ll take that, thank you!” she remarked, as she plucked the Blue Duck from John’s arms.

  “Oh, no!” cried John. “Please give him to me!”

  “I want my Monkey!” Barbara wailed, as Mary Poppins uncurled her fingers from the moth-eaten body of Pinnie. Pinnie was an old rag Monkey who had belonged first to Mrs Banks when she was a little girl, and then to each of the children in turn.

  But Mary Poppins took no notice. She hurried on to Jane’s bed and Alfred, the grey-flannel Elephant, was plucked from under the blankets. Jane sat up quickly.

  “But why are you taking the toys?” she demanded. “Can’t we sleep with them as we always do?”

  Mary Poppins’ only answer was an icy glare flung over her shoulder as she stooped to Michael’s bed.

  “The Pig, please!” she commanded sternly. She put out her hand for the small, gilt cardboard Pig that Aunt Flossie had given him for Christmas.

  At first the Pig had been filled with chocolates but now he was quite empty. A large hole yawned in the back of his body at the place where the tail should have been. On Christmas Day Michael had wrenched it off to see how it was stuck on. Since then it had lain on the mantelpiece and the Pig had gone without it.

  Michael clutched the Golden Pig in his arms.

  “No, Mary Poppins!” he said bravely. “He’s my Pig! And I want him!”

  “What did I say?” asked Mary Poppins. And her look was so awful that Michael loosened his hold at once and let her take it from him.

  “But what are you going to do with them?” he asked curiously.

  For Mary Poppins was arranging the animals in a row on top of the toy cupboard.

  “Ask no Questions and you’ll be Told no Lies,” she retorted priggishly. Her apron gave another crackle as she crossed the room to the bookcase.

  They watched her take down three well-known books: Robinson Crusoe, The Green Fairy Book and Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes. Then she opened them and laid them down in front of the four animals.

  Does she mean the animals to read the books? Jane wondered to herself.

  “And now,” said Mary Poppins primly, as she moved towards the door, “turn over, all of you – if you please – and go to sleep at once!”

  Michael sat bolt upright.

  “But I want to stay awake, Mary Poppins, and watch the New Year!”

  “A Watched Pot Never Boils!” she reminded him. “Lie down, please, Michael, in that bed – and don’t say Another Word!”

  Then, sniffing loudly, she snapped out the light, and shut the Nursery door behind her with an angry little click.

  “I will watch all the same,” said Michael, as soon as she had gone.

  “So will I,” agreed Jane quickly, with a very determined air.

  The Twins said nothing. They were fast asleep. But it was at least ten minutes before Michael’s head fell sideways on his pillow. And it was quite fifteen before Jane’s eyelashes fluttered down on her cheeks.

  The four eiderdowns rose and fell with the children’s steady breathing.

  For
a long time nothing stirred the silence of the Nursery.

  Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!

  Suddenly, through the silent night, a peal of bells rang out.

  Ding-dong! Ring-ting! Ding-dong!

  From every tower and steeple the swinging chimes went forth. The bells of the city echoed and tossed and floated across the Park to the Lane. From North and South and East and West they pealed and clanged and chimed. People leant over their window-sills and rattled their dinner-bells. And those who hadn’t a dinner-bell played tunes on their Front door knockers.

  Along the Lane came the Ice Cream Man, twanging his bicycle bell with gusto. In the garden of Admiral Boom, at the corner, a ship’s bell clanged through the frosty air. And Miss Lark, in the Next Door drawing-room, tinkled her little breakfast bell, while the two dogs barked and howled.

  Clang-clang! Tinkle-tinkle! Ding-dong! Bow-wow!

  Everybody in the world was ringing a bell. The echoes clashed and chimed and rhymed in the chilly midnight dark.

  Then all of a sudden, there was silence. And out of the stillness, solemn and deep, the sound of a great clock striking.

  “Boom!” said Big Ben.

  It was the first stroke of Midnight.

  At that moment something stirred in the Nursery. Then came the sound of clattering hooves.

  Jane and Michael were wide awake in an instant. They both sat up with a start.

  “Goodness!” said Michael.

  “Gracious!” said Jane.

  For before them lay an astounding sight. There on the floor stood the Golden Pig, prancing about on his golden hind trotters and looking very important.

  Plump! With a heavy muffled thud, Alfred the Elephant landed beside him. And, leaping lightly from the top of the cupboard, came Pinnie the Monkey and the old Blue Duck.

  Then, to the children’s astonishment, the Golden Pig spoke.

  “Will somebody kindly put on my tail?” he enquired in a high, shrill voice.

  Michael flung himself out of bed and rushed to the mantelpiece.

  “That’s better,” remarked the Pig, with a smile. “I’ve been most uncomfortable ever since Christmas. A Pig without a tail, you know, is almost as bad as a tail without a Pig. And now,” he went on, as he glanced round the room, “are we all ready? Then, hurry, please!”