Mary Poppins Comes Back
“One mincing machine,” said Mary Poppins, as she fixed him with a stare.
“And I’ll throw in a pound of steak for luck,” said Mr Trimlet eagerly.
Mary Poppins took no notice.
“Half-a-dozen pot cleaners, one tin of bees’ wax, one floor mop,” she read out quickly.
“Setting up ’ouse?” enquired Mr Trimlet, smiling nervously as he tied up the parcels.
“A packet of nails and a garden rake,” she went on. She looked right through his purple face as though it were made of glass.
“And wot about the sawdust?” he enquired. “All that wot them children has spilt?”
Mary Poppins spun round. Jane and Michael and the Twins were sitting comfortably on a fat brown sack, and their weight had squeezed a stream of sawdust out on to the floor. Her eyes blazed.
“If you don’t get up this minute—” she began. And her voice was so frightful that they sprang to their feet without waiting to hear the rest of the sentence. Robertson Ay, who had been asleep on a garden roller, woke up with a start and began to collect the parcels.
“We were only resting our legs—” Michael began.
“One More Word and you’ll find yourself resting in Bed! I warn you!” she told him fiercely.
“I’ll make no charge,” declared Mr Trimlet, as he hurriedly swept up the sawdust. “Seein’ it’s you!” he added eagerly, still trying to be friendly.
Mary Poppins gave him a contemptuous stare.
“There’s paint on your nose,” she announced calmly, and stalked out of the shop.
Then off she went, like a human whirlwind, speeding up the High Street. And off went the children and Robertson Ay, wheeling behind her like the tail of a comet.
At the Baker’s she bought a loaf of bread, two boxes of tarts and some ginger biscuits.
“Don’t mind me,” sighed Robertson Ay as she piled them into his arms.
“I won’t!” she retorted cheerfully. She hurried on to the Greengrocer’s for peas, beans and cherries.
“The Last Straw breaks the Camel’s back,” said Robertson Ay, as she thrust them at him.
“So they say!” she remarked with a chilly smile and consulted her list again.
The next place was the Stationer’s where she bought a bottle of ink; and then she went to the Chemist for a packet of mustard plasters. Robertson Ay laid his chin on the parcels and wearily closed his eyes. Jane and Michael felt very sorry for him but far more sorry for themselves.
By now they had come to the end of the High Street. But still Mary Poppins did not stop. The children looked at each other and sighed. There were no more shops. Where could she be going?
“Oh, dear, Mary Poppins, my legs are breaking!” said Michael, limping pathetically.
“Can’t we go home now, Mary Poppins? My shoes are worn out!” complained Jane.
And the Twins began to whimper and whine like a couple of fretful puppies.
Mary Poppins regarded them all with disgust.
“A set of Jellyfish – that’s what you are! You haven’t a backbone between you!”
And popping the shopping-list into her bag, she gave a quick contemptuous sniff and hurried round the corner. After her tottered Robertson Ay, hung about with parcels like a Christmas Tree. And behind him trailed the grumbling children, straggling along with their eyes on the ground.
“A Jellyfish swims,” said Michael angrily. “And it doesn’t have to go shopping!” He was so tired that he almost didn’t care whether Mary Poppins heard him or not.
The breeze blew gently from the Park, full of the scents of the morning. It smelt of laurel leaves and moss, and something else that was vaguely familiar. What could it be? Jane sniffed the air.
“Michael!” she whispered. “I smell Peppermint!”
Michael was feeling extremely cross. But he wouldn’t for the life of him let Jane smell something that he couldn’t smell. He sniffed like a sulky little dog.
“Um-hum,” he admitted, “I do too!”
And then it was that they both noticed the red-and-green umbrella. It stood beside the iron railings on the Town side of the Park. Against it leant a large white signboard:
MISS CALICO
CONFECTIONER
HORSES FOR HIRE
said the words in big black letters.
The children stared.
For beneath the red-and-green umbrella sat one of the strangest little figures they had ever seen. At first they could not make out what it was, for it sparkled and glittered like a diamond. Then they saw that it was a small elderly lady with a skinny, leathery, yellow face and a mane of short white hair. The glitter and sparkle came from her dress, which was covered from collar to hem with pins. They stuck out all over her, like the quills of a hedgehog, and whenever she moved they flashed in the sunlight. In her hand she held a riding-whip. And every now and again she cracked it at one of the passers-by.
“Peppermint Candy! Bargain Prices! All of it made of Finest Sugar!” she cried in a little whinnying voice as the whip swished through the air.
“Come on, Michael!” said Jane excitedly, forgetting how tired she was.
Michael had no desire to be friendly. On the other hand, he was determined not to be left out of anything. He took her hand and let her drag him towards the striped umbrella.
As they drew nearer the sparkling figure, they saw a sight that filled them with hunger. For beside her stood a glass jar that was filled with peppermint walking-sticks.
“Sugar and Spice
And all that’s nice
At a Very Special
Bargain Price!”
sang the little old lady, cracking her whip.
And just at that moment she turned her head and spied the straggling group. Her dark eyes glittered like little blackcurrants as she thrust out a bird-like hand.
“Well, I never! If it isn’t Mary Poppins! I haven’t seen you in a month of Tuesdays!”
“The same to you, so to speak, Miss Calico!” Mary Poppins replied politely.
“Well, it all just goes to show!” said Miss Calico. “If you know what I mean!” she added, grinning. Then her bright black gaze fell upon the children.
“Why, Mercy Me and a Jumping Bean! What a quartet of sulky faces! Cross-patch, draw the latch! You all look as if you’d lost something!”
“Their tempers,” said Mary Poppins grimly.
Miss Calico’s eyebrows went up with a rush, and her pins began to flash.
“Thundering Tadpoles! Think of that! Well, what’s lost must be found – that’s the law! Now – where did you lose ’em?”
The little black eyes went from one to another and somehow they all felt guilty.
“I think it must have been in the High Street,” said Jane in a stifled whisper.
“Tut! Tut! All that way back? And why did you lose ’em, might one ask?”
Michael shuffled his feet and his face grew red. “We didn’t want to go on walking—” he began shame-facedly. But the sentence was never finished. Miss Calico interrupted him with a loud shrill cackle.
“Who does? Who does? I’d like to know? Nobody wants to go on walking. I wouldn’t do it myself if you paid me. Not for a sackful of rubies!”
Michael stared. Could it really be true? Had he found at last a grown-up person who felt as he did about walking?
“Why, I haven’t walked for centuries,” said Miss Calico. “And what’s more, none of my family do. What – stump on the ground on two flat feet? They’d think that quite beneath them!” She cracked her whip and her pins flashed brightly as she shook her finger at the children.
“Take my advice and always ride. Walking will only make you grow. And where does it get you? Pretty near nowhere! Ride, I say! Ride – and see the world!”
“But we’ve nothing to ride on!” Jane protested, looking round to see what Miss Calico rode. For, in spite of the notice “Horses for Hire” there wasn’t even a donkey in sight.
“Nothing to ride on? Sna
kes alive! That’s a very unfortunate state of affairs!”
Miss Calico’s voice had a mournful sound but her black eyes twinkled impishly as she glanced at Mary Poppins. She gave a little questioning nod and Mary Poppins nodded back.
“Well, it might have been worse!” cried Miss Calico, as she snatched up a handful of sticks. “If you can’t have horses – what about these? At least they’ll help you along a bit. It’s lucky today is a Bargain Day. I can let you have ’em for a pin apiece.”
The scent of peppermint filled the air. The four lost tempers came creeping back as the children searched their clothes for pins. They wriggled and giggled, and peeked and pried, but never a pin could they find.
“Oh, what shall we do, Mary Poppins?” cried Jane. “We haven’t a pin between us!”
“I should hope not!” she replied, with a snort. “The children I care for are properly mended. Their clothes are never done up with pins!”
She gave a disgusted sniff. Then turning back the lapel of her coat, she handed a pin to each of the children. Robertson Ay, who was dozing against the railings, woke up with a start as she handed him another.
“Stick ’em in!” shrieked Miss Calico, leaning towards them. “Don’t mind if they prick. I’m too tough to feel ’em!”
They pushed their pins in among the others and her dress seemed to shine more brightly than ever as she handed out the sticks.
Laughing and shouting, they seized and waved them and the scent of peppermint grew stronger.
“I shan’t mind walking now!” cried Michael, as he nibbled the end of his pink-and-white stick. A shrill little cry broke on the air, like a faint protesting neigh. But Michael was sampling the Peppermint Candy and was far too absorbed to hear it.
“I’m not going to eat mine,” Jane said quickly. “I’m going to keep it always.”
Miss Calico glanced at Mary Poppins and a curious look was exchanged between them.
“If you can!” said Miss Calico, cackling loudly. “You may keep ’em all, if you can – and welcome! Stick ’em in firmly, don’t mind me!” She handed a stick to Robertson Ay as he stuck his pin in her sleeve.
“And now,” said Mary Poppins politely, “if you’ll excuse us, Miss Calico, we’ll get along home to dinner!”
“Oh, wait, Mary Poppins!” protested Michael. “We haven’t bought a stick for you!” An awful thought had come to him. What if she hadn’t another pin? Would he have to share his stick with her?
“Humph!” she said, with a toss of her head. “I’m not afraid of breaking my legs, like some people I could mention!”
“Tee-hee! Ha-ha! Excuse me laughing! As if she needed a walking-stick!”
Miss Calico gave a bird-like chirp, as though Michael had said something funny.
“Well, pleased to have met you!” said Mary Poppins, as she shook Miss Calico’s hand.
“The Pleasure is mine, I assure you, Miss Poppins! Now, remember my warning! Always ride! Goodbye, goodbye!” Miss Calico trilled. She seemed to have quite forgotten the fact that none of them had any horses.
“Peppermint Candy! Bargain Prices! All of it made of the Finest Sugar!” they heard her shouting as they turned away.
“Got a Pin?” she enquired of a passer-by, a well-dressed gentleman wearing an eye-glass. He carried a brief-case under his arm. It was marked in gold letters:
LORD CHANCELLOR
DISPATCHES
“Pin?” said the gentleman. “Certainly not! Where would I get such a thing as a Pin?”
“Nothing for nothing, that’s the law! You can’t get a stick if you’ve got no pin!”
“Take one ’o mine, duck! I got plenty!” said a large fat woman who was tramping past. She hitched a basket under her arm and, plucking a handful of pins from her shawl, she offered them to the Lord Chancellor.
“One Pin Only! Bargain Prices! Never Pay Two when you’re asked for One!” Miss Calico cried in her hen-like cackle. She gave the Lord Chancellor a stick and he hooked it over his arm and went on.
“You and your laws!” said the fat woman, laughing as she stuck a pin in Miss Calico’s skirt. “Well, gimme a strong one, ducky, do! I’m hardly a Fairy Fay!” Miss Calico gave her a long, thick stick and she grasped the handle in her hand and leant her weight against it.
“Feed the birds! Tuppence a bag! Thank you, my dear!” cried the fat woman gaily.
“Michael!” cried Jane, with a gasp of surprise. “I do believe it’s the Bird Woman!”
But before he had a chance to reply, a very strange thing happened. As the fat woman leant her weight on the stick, it gave a little upward spring. Then, swooping under her spreading skirts, it heaved her into the air.
“Ups a daisy! ’Ere I go!” The Bird Woman seized the peppermint handle and wildly clutched her basket. Off swept the walking-stick over the pavement and up across the railings. A loud neighing filled the air and the children stared in amazement.
“Hold tightly!” Michael shouted anxiously.
“’Old tight yourself!” the Bird Woman answered, for his stick was already leaping beneath him.
“Hi, Jane! Mine’s doing it too!” he shrieked, as the stick bore him swiftly away.
“Be careful, Michael!” Jane called after him. But just at that moment her own stick wobbled and made a long plunge upwards. Away it swooped on the trail of Michael’s, with Jane astride its pink-and-white back. It bucked and reared like a horse beneath her and she kept her hand on its neck for a rein. Over the laurel hedge she rode and as she cleared the lilac bushes a crackling shape sped past her. It was Robertson Ay with his arms full of parcels. He was lying lengthways along his stick and dozing as he rode.
“I’ll race you to the oak tree, Jane!” cried Michael, as she trotted up.
“Quietly, please! No horseplay, Michael! Put your hats straight and follow me!”
Mary Poppins, on her parrot umbrella, rode past them at a canter. Neatly and primly, as though she were in a rocking-chair, she sat on the black silk folds. In her hand she held two leading strings attached to the Twins’ pink sticks.
“All of ’em made of the Finest Sugar!” Miss Calico’s voice came floating up as the earth fell away beneath them.
“She’s selling hundreds of sticks!” cried Michael. For the sky was quickly filling with riders. Invisible hooves seemed to pound the air and high-pitched neighs came from every direction.
“There goes Auntie Flossie – over the dahlias!” cried Jane, as she pointed downwards. Below them rode a middle-aged lady. Her feather boa streamed out on the wind and her hat was blowing sideways.
“So it is!” said Michael, staring with interest. “And there’s Miss Lark – with the dogs!”
Above the weeping-willow trees a neat little peppermint stick came trotting. On its back sat Miss Lark, looking rather nervous, and behind her rode the dogs. Willoughby, looking none the worse for the bicycle tyre, smiled rudely at the children. But Andrew kept his eyes tight shut, as heights always made him giddy.
Ka-lop! Ka-lop! Ka-lop! Ka-lop! came the sound of galloping hooves.
“Help! Help! Murder! Earthquakes!” cried a hoarse, distracted voice.
The children turned to see Mr Trimlet riding madly up behind them. His hands clung tightly to the Peppermint Candy and his face had turned quite white.
“I tried to eat my stick,” he wailed, “and look what it did to me!”
“Bargain Prices! Only one Pin! You get what you give!” came Miss Calico’s voice.
By this time the sky was like a race-course. The riders came from all directions; and it seemed to the children that everyone they knew had bought a peppermint horse. A man in a feathered hat rode by and they recognised him as one of the Aldermen. In the distance they caught a glimpse of the Match Man, as he trotted along on a bright pink stick. The Sweep raced past with his sooty brushes and the Ice Cream Man cantered up beside him, licking a Strawberry Bar.
“Out of the way! Make room! Make room!” cried a loud, important voice.
And dashing along at break-neck speed they saw the Lord Chancellor. He leant low over the neck of his stick as though he were riding a Derby Winner. His eye-glass was firmly stuck in his eye and his brief-case bounced up and down as he rode.
“Important Dispatches!” they heard him shout. “I must get to the Palace in time for Lunch! Make room! Make room!” And away he galloped and soon was out of sight.
What a commotion there was in the Park! Everyone jostled everyone else. “Get up!” and “Whoa there!” the riders yelled. And the walking-sticks snorted like angry horses.
“Keep to the Left! No overtaking!” the Park Keeper cried, as he cantered among them. His stick was like a Policeman’s horse; it pushed back the riders with its handle and headed the bucking steeds to the left.
“No Parking!” he bawled. “Pedestrians Crossing! Speed Limit Twenty Miles an Hour!”
“Feed the Birds! Tuppence a Bag!” The Bird Woman trotted among the crowd. She moved through a tossing surge of wings – pigeons and starlings, blackbirds and sparrows. “Feed the Birds! Tuppence a Bag!” she cried as she tossed her nuts in the air.
The Park Keeper pulled up his stick and shouted:
“Why, Mother, wot are you doin’ ’ere? You ought to be down at St Paul’s!”
“’Ullo, Fred, my boy! I’m feedin’ the Birds! See you at Tea-time! Tuppence a Bag!”
The Park Keeper stared as she rode away.
“I never saw ’er do that before, not even when I was a boy! ’Ere! Whoa, there! Look where you’re goin’!” he cried, as a bright pink walking-stick streaked by.
On it rode Ellen and the Policeman, who were off for their Afternoon Out.
“Oh! Oh!” shrieked Ellen. “I daren’t look down! It makes me feel quite giddy!”
“Well, don’t, then. Look at me instead!” said the Policeman, holding her round the waist as their stick galloped swiftly away.
On and on went the peppermint walking-sticks and their pinkness shone in the morning sun. Over the trees they bore their riders, over the houses, over the clouds.
Down below them Miss Calico’s voice grew fainter every moment.