"Come, Stripe! Come Lollipop! Dapple and Trot!" From every direction the sticks came racing.
"Shake a leg, Blossom! Look sharp, there, Honey! Those who roam, must come home. That's the law!" She whistled them up and cracked her whip and laughed as they leapt through the air towards her.
The whole sky now was studded with sticks. It rang with the thunder of galloping hooves and the trumpeting neighs of peppermint horses. At first they looked like small black shadows with the colour gone from their shining backs. But a glow of moonrise came from the Park and soon they appeared in all their brightness. They shone and shimmered as they galloped; their pink legs flashed in the rising light.
"Come up, my fillies! Come up, my nags! All of you made of the Finest Sugar!"
High and sweet came Miss Calico's voice, as she called her horses home. Crack! went her whip as they trotted behind her, snorting and tossing their peppermint heads.
Then the moon rose, full and round and clear, above the trees of the Park. And Jane, as she saw it, gave a gasp and clutched her brother's hand.
"Oh, Michael! Look! It's blue!" she cried.
And blue indeed it was.
Out from the other side of earth the great blue moon came marching. Over the Park and over the Lane it spread its bright blue rays. It hung from the topmost peak of the sky, and shone like a lamp on the sleeping world.
And across its light, like a flock of bats, rode Miss Calico and her string of horses. Their shapes sped past the big blue moon and flashed for a moment in its brightness. Then away went the racing peppermint sticks, through the distant shining sky. The crack of the whip grew smaller and smaller. Miss Calico's voice grew far and faint. Till at last it seemed as though she and her horses had faded into the moonlight.
"All of them made of the Finest Sugar!"
A last small echo came floating back.
The children leaned on the window-sill and were silent for a moment.
Then Michael spoke.
"We couldn't keep them, after all," he said in a mournful whisper.
"She never meant us to," said Jane, as she gazed at the empty sky.
They turned together from the window, and the moon's blue light streamed into the room. It lay like water upon the floor. It crept across the children's cots till it reached the bed in the corner. Then, full and clear and bold and blue, it shone upon Mary Poppins. She did not wake. But she smiled a secret, satisfied smile as though, even in her deepest dreams, she was thoroughly pleased with herself.
They stood beside her, hardly breathing, as they watched that curious smile. Then they looked at each other and nodded wisely.
"She knows," said Michael, in a whisper. And Jane breathed an answering "Yes."
For a moment they smiled at her sleeping figure. Then they tip-toed back to their beds.
The blue moonlight lay over their pillows. It lapped them round as they closed their eyes. It gleamed upon Mary Poppins' nose as she lay in her old camp bed. And presently, as though blue moons were nothing to her, she turned her face away. She pulled the sheet up over her head and huddled down deeper under the blankets. And soon the only sound in the Nursery was Mary Poppins' snoring.
CHAPTER 6
HIGH TIDE
AND BE SURE you don't drop it!" said Mary Poppins, as she handed Michael a large black bottle.
He met the warning glint in her eye and shook his head earnestly.
"I'll be extra specially careful," he promised. He could not have gone more cautiously if he had been a Burglar.
He and Jane and Mary Poppins had been on a visit to Admiral Boom to borrow a Bottle of Port for Mr. Banks. Now it was lying in Michael's arms and he was walking gingerly — pit-pat, pit-pat — like a cat on hot bricks. And dawdling along behind came Jane, holding the Spotted Cowrie Shell that Mrs. Boom had given her.
They had had a wonderful afternoon. The Admiral had sung "I Saw Three Ships a-Sailing" and shown them his full-rigged Ship in a Bottle. Mrs. Boom had provided Ginger Pop and a plate of macaroons. And Binnacle, the retired Pirate who did the Admiral's cooking and mending, had allowed them to look at the Skull and Crossbones tattooed upon his chest.
Yes, thought Michael, looking down at the bottle, it had really been a lovely day.
Then, aloud, he said wistfully, "I wish I could have a Glass of Port. I'm sure it must be delicious!"
"Step up, please!" Mary Poppins commanded. "And don't keep scratching at that label, Michael! You are not a Tufted Woodpecker!"
"I can't step up any quicker!" he grumbled. "And why must we hurry, Mary Poppins?" He was thinking that when the bottle was empty he would make a ship to put in it.
"We are hurrying," said Mary Poppins, with awful distinctness, "because this is the Second Thursday and I am going out."
"Oh!" groaned Michael, who had quite forgotten. "That means an evening with Ellen!"
He looked at Jane for sympathy but Jane took no notice. She was holding her Cowrie Shell to her ear and listening to the sound of the sea.
"I can't bear Ellen!" Michael grumbled. "She's always got a cold and her feet are too big."
"I wish I could see the Sea!" Jane murmured, as she peered inside the shell.
Mary Poppins gave an impatient snort. "There you go! Wish, wish, wishing — all day long! If it isn't a Glass of Port, it's the Sea! I never knew such a pair for wishing!"
"Well, you never need to wish!" said Michael. "You're perfect, just as you are!"
She'll be pleased with that, he thought to himself, as he gave her a flattering smile.
"Humph!" said her disbelieving look. But a dimple danced suddenly into her cheek.
"Get along with you, Michael Banks!" she cried, and hustled them through the gate….
It turned out later, to Michael's surprise, that Ellen had no cold. She had another ailment, however, which went by the name of 'Ay Fever. She sneezed and sneezed till her face grew red. And it seemed to Michael that her feet grew bigger.
"I'm afraid I'll sneeze me 'ead right off!" she said lugubriously. And Michael almost wished she would.
"If there weren't any Thursdays," he said to Jane, "Mary Poppins would never go out!"
But, unfortunately, every week had a Thursday and once Mary Poppins was out of the house, it was no good calling her back.
There she went now, tripping down the Lane. She wore her black straw hat with the daisies and her best blue coat with the silver buttons. The children leaned from the nursery window and watched her retreating back. The parrot-head of her umbrella had a perky look, and she walked with a jaunty, expectant air as though she knew that a pleasant surprise awaited her round the corner.
"I wonder where she's going!" said Jane.
"I wish I were going, too!" groaned Michael. "Oh, Ellen, can't you stop sneezing!"
"Colder-hearted than a Toad, that boy is!" observed Ellen to her handkerchief. "As if I did it for choice! A-tishoo!"
She sneezed till the nursery furniture trembled. She sneezed the afternoon away and she sneezed all through supper. She sneezed the five of them through their baths and put them into bed, still sneezing. Then she sneezed on the night-light, sneezed the door shut and sneezed herself down the stairs.
"Thank goodness!" said Michael. "Now, let's do something!"
If Mary Poppins had been on duty they would never have dared to do anything. But nobody took any notice of Ellen.
Jane pattered over to the mantelpiece and took down the Cowrie Shell.
"It's still going on!" she said with delight. "Singing and gently roaring!"