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 book-case.
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 for 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 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 leaned over their windowsills 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 gold 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!"
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?