Mary Poppins Comes Back

  As he spoke he pranced daintily to the door, followed by Alfred, Pinnie and the Duck.

  “Where are you going?” Jane cried, staring.

  “You’ll soon see,” answered the Pig. “Come on!”

  In a flash they had flung on gowns and slippers and were following the four toys down the stairs and out through their own Front Door.

  “This way!” said the Pig, as he pranced across Cherry Tree Lane and through the Gates of the Park.

  Pinnie and the Blue Duck danced beside him, wildly squealing and quacking. And after them lumbered Alfred the Elephant with Jane and Michael at his grey-flannel heels.

  Above the trees hung a round white moon. Its gleaming silver rays poured down on the wide lawns of the Park. And there on the grass was a throng of figures, moving backwards and forwards in the shimmering light.

  Alfred flung up his flannel trunk and eagerly sniffed the air.

  “Ha!” he remarked delightedly. “We’re safely inside, Pig, don’t you think?”

  “Inside what?” asked Michael curiously.

  “The Crack,” said Alfred, flapping his ears.

  The children stared at each other. What on earth could Alfred mean?

  But the Pig was beckoning them towards him with a wave of his golden trotter; and bright forms flickered behind and around them as they hurried to the lawn.

  “Excuse us, please!” said three small shapes as they brushed against the children.

  “The Three Blind Mice,” explained Alfred, smiling. “They’re always under everyone’s feet!”

  “Are they running away from the Farmer’s Wife?” cried Michael, very surprised and excited.

  “Oh, dear, no! Not tonight,” said Alfred. “They’re hurrying to meet her. The Three Blind Mice and the Farmer’s Wife are all inside the Crack!”

  “Hullo, Alfred – you got in safely!”

  “Why, it’s dear old Pinnie!”

  “What, the Blue Duck too?”

  “Hooray, hooray! Here’s the Golden Pig!”

  There were cries of welcome and shouts of joy as everyone greeted everyone else. A Tin Soldier who was marching past saluted the Pig, and he waved his trotter. Pinnie shook hands with a pair of birds whom he hailed as Cock Robin and Jenny Wren. And the Blue Duck quacked at an Easter Chicken half-in and half-out of its egg. As for Alfred, he flung up his trunk in all directions and loudly trumpeted greetings.

  “Aren’t you cold, my dear? It’s chilly tonight!” A gruff voice spoke behind Jane’s shoulder.

  She turned to find a bearded man dressed in the strangest garments. He had goatskin trousers, a beaver cap and a large umbrella of rabbit-tails. Behind him, with an armful of furs, stood a black, half-naked figure.

  “Friday,” said the bearded man, “oblige me by giving this lady a coat.”

  “Suttinly, Massa! Ah aims to please!” And the great black creature, with a graceful movement, flung a sealskin cloak about Jane’s shoulders.

  She stared.

  “So you’re—” she began, and smiled at him shyly.

  “Of course I am,” said the tall man, bowing. “Please call me Robinson! All my friends do. Mr Crusoe sounds so formal.”

  “But I thought you were in a book!” said Jane.

  “I am,” said Robinson Crusoe, smiling. “But tonight someone kindly left it open. And so I escaped, you see!”

  Jane thought of the books on top of the toy cupboard. She remembered how Mary Poppins had opened them before she put out the light.

  “Does it happen often?” she questioned eagerly.

  “Alas, no! Only at the end of the year. The Crack’s our one and only chance. But, excuse me! I must speak to—”

  Robinson Crusoe turned to greet a curious egg-shaped little man who was hurrying past on spindly legs. His pointed head was as bald as an egg and his neck was muffled in a woollen scarf. He stared inquisitively at the children, as he greeted Robinson Crusoe.

  “Good Gracious!” cried Michael in surprise. “You’re igzackly like Humpty-Dumpty!”

  “Like?” shrilled the little man haughtily. “How can anyone be like himself, I’d like to know? I’ve heard of people being unlike themselves – when they’ve been naughty or eaten too much – but never like. Don’t be so silly!”

  “But – you’re quite whole!” said Michael, staring. “I thought Humpty-Dumpty couldn’t be mended.”

  “Who said I couldn’t?” cried the little man angrily.

  “Well, I just thought – er – that all the King’s horses and – er – all the King’s men—” Michael began to stammer.

  “Pooh – horses! What do they know about it? And as for the King’s men – stupid creatures! – they only know about horses! And because they couldn’t put me together, it doesn’t say no one else could, does it?”

  Not wishing to contradict him, Jane and Michael shook their heads.

  “As a matter of fact,” Humpty-Dumpty went on, “the King himself mended me – didn’t you – heh?”

  He shrieked the last words at a round fat man who was holding a crown on his head with one hand and carrying a pie-dish in the other.

  “He’s just like the King in Mary Poppins’ story! He must be Old King Cole!” said Jane.

  “Didn’t I what?” the King enquired, carefully balancing his pie and his crown.

  “Stick me together!” shrieked Humpty-Dumpty.

  “Of course I did. Just for tonight, you know. With honey. In the Queen’s parlour. But you really mustn’t bother me now. My Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds are going to sing and I have to open the Pie.”

  “There, what did I tell you?” screamed Humpty-Dumpty. “How dare you suggest I’m a Broken Egg!”

  He turned his back upon them rudely and his big cracked head shone white in the moonlight.

  “Don’t argue with him! It’s no good,” said Alfred. “He’s always so touchy about that fall. Here! Step on your own toes! Look who you’re pushin’!” He turned and made a sweep with his trunk and a crowned Lion lightly leapt aside.

  “Sorry!” exclaimed the Lion politely. “It’s such a frightful crush tonight. Have you seen the Unicorn, by the way? Ah, there he is! Hi! Wait a minute!” And, growling softly in his throat, he pounced upon a silvery figure that was daintily trotting by.

  “Oh, stop him! Stop him!” Jane cried anxiously. “He’s going to beat the Unicorn all round the Town!”

  “Not tonight,” said Alfred reassuringly. “You just watch!”

  Jane and Michael stared with astonishment as they saw the Lion bowing. Then he took the golden crown from his head and offered it to the Unicorn.

  “It’s your turn to wear it,” the Lion said courteously. Then the two exchanged a tender embrace and danced off into the crowd.

  “Children behaving nicely tonight?” they heard the Unicorn enquire of a withered old woman who was dancing past. She was pulling along an enormous Shoe, full of laughing boys and girls.

  “Oh, so nicely!” cried the Old Woman gaily. “I haven’t used my whip once! Georgie Porgie is such a help with the girls. They insist on being kissed tonight. And as for the boys, they’re just sugar and spice. Look at Red Riding Hood hugging that Wolf! She’s trying to teach him to beg for supper. Sit down, please, Muffet. And hold on tight.”

  She waved her whip at a fair little girl who sat at the back of the Shoe. She was deep in conversation with a large black Spider; and as the Shoe went rumbling past, she reached out her hand and patted him gently.

  “She’s not even running away!” cried Michael. “Why isn’t she frightened?” he wanted to know.

  “Because of the Crack,” said Alfred again, as he hurried them before him.

  Jane and Michael couldn’t help staring at Red Riding Hood and Miss Muffet. Fancy not being afraid of the Wolf and that black enormous Spider!

  Then a filmy whiteness brushed them lightly and they turned to find a shining shape yawning behind its hand.

  “Still sleepy, Beauty?” trumped Alfred, as he slipped his
trunk round her waist.

  She patted the trunk and leant against him.

  “I was deep in a dream,” she murmured softly. “But the First Stroke, luckily, woke me up!”

  As she said that, Michael’s curiosity could contain itself no longer.

  “But I don’t understand!” he burst out loudly. “Everything’s upside down tonight! Why doesn’t the Spider frighten Miss Muffet? And the Lion beat the Unicorn?”

  “Alfred has told you,” said Sleeping Beauty. “Because we are all in the Crack.”

  “What Crack?” demanded Michael.

  “The Crack between the Old Year and the New. The Old Year dies on the First Stroke of Midnight and the New Year is born on the Last Stroke. And in between – while the other ten strokes are sounding – there lies the secret Crack.”

  “Yes?” said Jane breathlessly, for she wanted to know more.

  The Sleeping Beauty gave a charming yawn and smiled upon the children.

  “And inside the Crack all things are at one. The eternal opposites meet and kiss. The wolf and the lamb lie down together, the dove and the serpent share one nest. The stars bend down and touch the earth and the young and the old forgive each other. Night and day meet here, so do the poles. The East leans over towards the West and the circle is complete. This is the time and place, my darlings – the only time and the only place – where everybody lives happily ever after. Look!”

  The Sleeping Beauty waved her hand.

  Jane and Michael, glancing past it, saw three Bears hopping clumsily round a little bright-haired girl.

  “Goldilocks,” explained the Sleeping Beauty. “As safe and sound as you are. Oh, good evening, Punch! How’s the baby, Judy?”

  She waved to a pair of long-nosed puppets who were strolling arm in arm. “They’re a loving couple tonight, you see, because they’re inside the Crack. Oh, look!”

  This time she pointed to a towering figure. His great feet stamped upon the lawn and his head was as high as the tallest tree. A huge club was balanced on one shoulder; and perched on the other sat a laughing boy who was tweaking the big man’s ear.

  “That’s Jack-the-Giant-Killer with his Giant. The two are bosom friends tonight. “The Sleeping Beauty glanced up, smiling. “And here, at last, come the Witches!”

  There was a whirr above the children’s heads as a group of beady-eyed old women swooped through the air on broomsticks. A cry of welcome rose to greet them as they plunged into the crowd.

  Everyone rushed to shake their hands and the old women cackled with witch-like laughter.

  “Nobody’s frightened of them tonight. They’re happy ever after!” The Sleeping Beauty’s drowsy voice was like a lullaby. She stretched her arms about the children and the three stood watching the thronging figures. The lawns bent under the tripping feet and the air was dizzy with nodding heads as Kings and Princesses, Heroes and Witches saluted each other in the Crack between the years.

  “Gangway! Gangway! Let me pass!” cried a high, clear voice.

  And far away at the end of the lawn they saw the Golden Pig. He plunged through the crowd on his stiff hind legs, dividing it to left and right with a wave of his golden trotter.

  “Make way! Make way!” he shouted importantly. And the crowd parted and drew aside so that it formed a double row of bowing, curtseying creatures.

  For now there appeared, at the heels of the Pig, a figure that was curiously familiar. A hat with a bow was upon its head and its coat shone brightly with silver buttons. Its eyes were as blue as Willow-Pattern and its nose turned up in an airy way like the nose of a Dutch Doll.

  Lightly she tripped along the path, with the Golden Pig prancing neatly before her. And as she came a cry of greeting rose up from every throat. Hats and caps and crowns and coronets were tossed into the air. And the moon itself seemed to shine more brightly as she walked beneath its rays.

  “But why is she here?” demanded Jane, as she watched that shape coming down the clearing. “Mary Poppins is not a fairy-tale.”

  “She’s even better!” said Alfred loyally. “She’s a fairy-tale come true. Besides,” he rumbled, “she’s the Guest of the Evening! It was she who left the books open.”

  Amid the happy shouts of welcome, Mary Poppins bowed to right and left. Then she marched to the centre of the lawn and, opening her black handbag, she took out a concertina.

  “Choose your partners!” cried the Golden Pig, as he drew a flute from a pocket in his skin and put it to his mouth.

  At that command, every creature there turned swiftly to his neighbour. Then the flute broke into a swinging tune; the concertina and the Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds took up the gay refrain; and a white Cat played the chorus sweetly on a hey-diddle Fiddle.

  “Can it be my cat?” Michael wondered, as he looked for the pattern of flowers and leaves. He had no time to decide, however, for his attention was attracted by Alfred.

  The grey-flannel Elephant lumbered past, uttering happy jungle cries and using his trunk as a trumpet.

  “May I have the pleasure, my dear young Lady?” He bowed to the Sleeping Beauty. She gave him her hand and they danced away, Alfred taking care not to tread on her toes and the Sleeping Beauty yawning daintily and looking very dreamy.

  Everyone seemed to be choosing a partner or finding a friend in the throng.

  “Kiss me! Kiss me!” cried a group of girls, as they twined their arms round a large fat schoolboy.

  “Out of my way, young Georgie-Porgie!” cried the Farmer’s Wife, dancing with Three Blind Mice.

  And the fat boy plunged off into the crowd with the girls all laughing about him.

  “One and two and hop and turn – that’s the way it goes.” Red Riding Hood, holding the Wolf by the paw, was teaching him how to dance. The Wolf, looking very humble and shy, was watching his feet as she counted.

  Jane and Michael could hardly believe their eyes. But before they had time to think about it, a friendly voice hailed them.

  “Do you dance?” said Robinson Crusoe gaily, as he took Jane’s hand and whirled her away. She swung around, pressed to his goatskin coat, as Michael pranced off in the arms of Man Friday.

  “Who is that?” asked Jane as they danced along. For there was the Blue Duck waddling past, clasped to the bosom of a large grey bird.

  “That’s Goosey Gander!” said Robinson Crusoe. “And there is Pinnie – with Cinderella.”

  She glanced round quickly. And there, sure enough, was old rag Pinnie, looking very important and proud of himself as he danced with a beautiful Lady.

  Everybody had a partner. No one was lonely or left out. All the fairy-tales ever told were gathered together on that square of grass, embracing each other with joy.

  “Are you happy, Jane?” Michael called to her, as he and Friday went galloping past.

  “For ever and ever!” she answered smiling, and for that moment knew it was true.

  The music was swifter now and wilder. It tossed among the tossing trees, it echoed above the strokes of the clock. Mary Poppins, the Pig and the Fiddling Cat were bending and swaying as they played. Again and again the Blackbirds sang and never seemed to grow weary. The fairy-tale figures swung about the children; and in their ears the fairy-tale voices were sweetly singing and laughing.

  “Happy ever after!” came the echoing cry, from everyone in the Park.

  “What was that?” cried Jane to her partner. For behind the shouting and the music, she had heard the boom of the clock.

  “Time’s nearly up!” said Robinson Crusoe. “That must have been the Sixth Sense!”

  They paused for a moment in their dance and listened to the clock.

  Seven! Above the sound rose the fairy-tale music, rocking them all in its golden net.

  Eight! said the steady, distant boom. And the dancing feet seemed to move more swiftly.

  Nine! The trees themselves were dancing now, bending their boughs to the fairy tune.

  Ten! O, Lion and Unicorn, Wolf and Lamb! Friend and Enemy!
Dark and Light!

  Eleven! O, fleeting moment! O, time on the wing! How short is the space between the years! Let us be happy – happy ever after!

  Twelve!

  Solemn and deep the last stroke struck.

  “Twelve!” The cry went up from every throat and the ring immediately broke and scattered. Bright shapes brushed swiftly past the children. Jack and his Giant, Punch and Judy. Away sped the Spider with Miss Muffet, and Humpty-Dumpty on his spindly legs. The Lion, the Unicorn, Goldilocks, Red Riding Hood and Three Blind Mice – they streamed away across the grass and seemed to melt in the moonshine.

  Cinderella and the Witches vanished. The Sleeping Beauty and the Cat with the Fiddle fled, and were lost in light. And Jane and Michael, looking round for their partners, found that Robinson Crusoe and his Man Friday had dissolved into the air.

  The fairy-tale music died away, it was lost in the lordly peal of bells. For now from every tower and steeple the chimes rang out, triumphant. Big Ben, St Paul’s, St Bride’s, Old Bailey, Southwark, St Martin’s. Westminster, Bow. . .

  But one bell sounded above the others, merry and clear and distinct.

  “Ting-aling-aling-aling! It was different, somehow, from the New Year bells, familiar and friendly and nearer home.

  Ting-aling-aling! it cried. And mixed with its echoes was a well-known voice.

  “Who wants crumpets?” the voice said loudly, demanding an immediate answer.

  Jane and Michael opened their eyes. They sat up and stared about them. They were in their beds, under the eiderdowns, and John and Barbara were asleep beside them. The fire glowed gaily in the grate. The morning light streamed through the Nursery window. And from somewhere down below in the Lane came the sound of the tinkling bell.

  “I said ‘Who wants crumpets?’ Didn’t you hear me? The Crumpet Man’s down in the Lane.”

  There was no mistaking it. The voice was the voice of Mary Poppins, and it sounded very impatient.

  “I do!” said Michael hurriedly.