"'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.
"Peppermint Candy! Bargain Prices! All of them made of the Finest Sugar!"
And at last it seemed to Jane and Michael that the voice was no longer Miss Calico's, but the faint shrill neigh of a little horse in a very distant meadow.
They threaded their way through the crowding riders, bouncing upon their peppermint sticks. The wind ran swiftly by their faces and the echo of hooves was in their ears. Oh, where were they riding? Home to dinner? Or out to the uttermost ends of the earth?
And ever before them, showing the way, went the figure of Mary Poppins. She sat her umbrella with elegant ease, her hands well down on its parrot head. The pigeon's wing flew at a perfect angle, not a fold of her dress was out of place. What she was thinking, they could not tell. But her mouth had a small self-satisfied smile as though she were thoroughly pleased with herself.
Cherry-Tree Lane grew nearer and nearer. The Admiral's telescope shone in the sun.
"Oh, I wish we need never go down!" cried Michael.
"I wish we could ride all day!" cried Jane.
"I wish to be home by One O'clock. Keep up with me, please!" said Mary Poppins. She pointed the beak of her parrot umbrella towards Number Seventeen.
They sighed, though they knew it was no good sighing. They patted the necks of their walking sticks and followed her downwards through the sky.
The garden lawn, like a bright green paddock, rose slowly up to meet them. Down to it raced the peppermint sticks, rearing and prancing like polo ponies. Robertson Ay was the first to land. His stick pulled up in the pansy bed and Robertson opened his eyes and blinked. He yawned and gathered his parcels together and staggered into the house.
Down past the Cherry-Trees trotted the children. Down, down, till the grasses grazed their feet, and the sticks stood still on the lawn.
At the same moment, the parrot-headed umbrella, its black silk folds like a pair of wings, swooped down among the flowers. Mary Poppins alighted with a ladylike jump. Then she gave the umbrella a little shake and tucked it under her arm. To look at that neat, respectable pair, you would never have guessed they had crossed the Park in such a curious fashion.
"Oh, what a glorious ride!" cried Michael. "How lucky you had those pins, Mary Poppins!" He rushed to her across the lawn and hugged her round the waist.
"Is this a garden or a Jumble Sale? I'll thank you to let me go!" she snapped.
"I'll never lose my temper again! I feel so sweet and good!" said Jane.
Mary Poppins smiled disbelievingly. "How very unusual!" she remarked, as she stooped to pick up the sticks.
"I'll take mine, Mary Poppins!" said Michael, as he made a grab at a sugary handle.
But she swung the walking sticks over her head and stalked away into the house.
"I won't eat it, Mary Poppins!" he pleaded. "I shan't even nibble the handle!"
Mary Poppins took not the slightest notice. Without a word she sailed upstairs with the walking sticks under her arm.
"But they're ours!" complained Michael, turning to Jane. "Miss Calico told us to keep them!"
"No, she didn't," said Jane, with a shake of her head. "She said we might keep them if we could."
"Well, of course we can!" said Michael stoutly. "We'll keep them to ride on always!"
And indeed, the sight of the walking sticks, as they stood in a corner by Mary Poppins' bed, was very reassuring. For who, the children fondly thought, would want to steal four sticky poles of sugar? Already the pink-and-white-striped sticks seemed part of the nursery furniture.
They leaned together with handles locked, like four faithful friends. Not a movement came from any of them. They were just like any other sticks, quietly waiting in a dusty corner to go for a walk with their owners….
The afternoon passed and bed-time came and the scent of peppermint filled the Nursery. Michael sniffed as he hurried in from his bath.
"They're all right!" he whispered, as Jane came in. "But I think we should stay awake tonight and see that nothing happens."
Jane nodded. She had seen those sticks do curious things and she felt that Michael was right.
So, long after Mary Poppins had gone, they lay awake and stared at the corner. The four dim shapes stood still and silent beside the neat camp bed.
"Where shall we go tomorrow?" asked Michael. "I think I'll ride over to see Aunt Flossie and ask her how she liked it." He gave a yawn and shut his right eye. He could see just as well with one, he thought. And the other could take a rest.
"I'd like to see Timbuctoo," said Jane. "It has such a beautiful sound."
There was a long pause.
"Don't you think that's a good idea, Michael?"
But Michael did not answer. He had closed the other eye — just for a moment. And in that moment he had fallen asleep.
Jane sat up, faithfully watching the sticks. She watched and watched and watched and watched, till her head fell sideways upon the pillow.
"Timbuctoo," she murmured drowsily, with her eyes on the slender shapes in the corner. And after that she said nothing more because she was much too sleepy….
Downstairs the Grandfather Clock struck ten. But Jane did not hear it. She did not hear Mary Poppins creep in and undress beneath her cotton nightgown. She did not hear Mr. Banks locking the doors, nor the house as it settled down for the night. She was dreaming a beautiful dream of horses and through it came Michael calling her name.
"Jane! Jane! Jane!" came the urgent whisper.
She sprang up and tossed the hair from her eyes. Beyond Mary Poppins' sleeping shape she could see Michael sitting on the edge of his bed with his finger to his lips.
"I heard a funny noise!" he hissed.
Jane listened. Yes! She heard it, too. She held her breath as she caught the sound of a high, shrill, faraway whistle.
"Whew — ee! Whew — ee!"
It came nearer and nearer. Then, suddenly, from the night outside, they heard a shrill voice calling.
"Come, Sugar! Come, Lightfoot! Come, Candy! Come, Mint! Don't wait or you'll be late. That's the law!"
And at the same moment there was a quick scuffle in the corner by Mary Poppins' bed.
Rattle! Clash! Bang! Swoop!
And the four walking sticks, one after another, rose up and leapt out of the window.
In a flash the children were out of bed and leaning across the sill. All was darkness. The night had not a single star. But over the Cherry-Trees something shone with a queer unearthly brilliance.
It was Miss Calico. She flashed like a little silver hedgehog, as she rode through the sky on a peppermint stick. Her whip made little cracks in the air and her whistle pierced the still, dark night.
"Come up, you slow-coaches!" she screamed, as the four sticks followed her, neighing wildly.
"Dancer, you donkey, come up!" she called. And from somewhere, down by the kitchen steps, another stick came trotting.
"That must be Robertson Ay's!" said Jane.
"Where are you, Trixie? Come up, my girl!" Miss Calico cracked her whip again. And out from Miss Lark's best bedroom window another stick leapt to join the throng.