Mary Poppins: Chapters 1–3

To begin with, it is the smallest house in the Lane. And besides that, it is the only one that is rather dilapidated and needs a coat of paint.

Then I should wait and watch for the Nannies to queue up outside the front gate, and I should get very cross with them for holding up the traffic and making it necessary for me to give the policeman a shilling for putting him to so much trouble.

Then I should wait and watch for the Nannies to queue up outside the front gate, and I should get very cross with them for holding up the traffic and making it necessary for me to give the policeman a shilling for putting him to so much trouble.

There was a flagstaff in the garden, and on the roof was a gilt weathercock shaped like a telescope.

And he kissed his wife absentmindedly on one side of her nose and waved to the children and went away to the City.

“A very old-fashioned idea, to my mind,” Jane and Michael heard the stern voice say.

“Strawberry ice,” he said ecstatically.

Mary Poppins then poured out another dose and solemnly took it herself.

They noticed that whereas buttons and hooks had needed all sorts of coaxing from Katie Nanna, for Mary Poppins they flew apart almost at a look.

“I was only saying,” began Michael, meekly, “that we hoped you wouldn’t be going away soon.” He stopped, feeling very red and confused.

Mrs. Brill and Ellen were glad because they could drink strong cups of tea all day in the kitchen and no longer needed to preside at nursery suppers.

Besides, Mary Poppins was very vain and liked to look her best.

At the corner she turned to the right and then to the left, nodded haughtily to the Policeman, who said it was a nice day, and by that time she felt that her Day Out had begun.

She stopped beside an empty motor-car in order to put her hat straight with the help of the wind-screen, in which it was reflected, then she smoothed down her frock and tucked her umbrella more securely under her arm so that the handle, or rather the parrot, could be seen by everybody.

“That’s all right, Bert. Don’t you mind. I’d much rather not go to tea. A stodgy meal, I call it—really.”

This time Mary Poppins could indulge in a sigh without hurting his feelings.

They could hardly believe it was true, and yet here were green branches huskily rattling on their hats as they bent beneath them, and little coloured flowers curling round their shoes.

A pile of raspberry-jam-cakes as high as Mary Poppins's waist stood in the centre, and beside it tea was boiling in a big brass urn.

They nodded as he flourished his table-napkin and walked on in front of them through the wood.

“Well, I did my best, Mary,” said the Match-Man modestly.

“Huh, Cinderella? Not me,” said Mary Poppins, contemptuously.

“You see, it’s this way. I’m a cheerful sort of man and very disposed to laughter. You wouldn’t believe, either of you, the number of things that strike me as being funny. I can laugh at pretty nearly everything, I can.”

He looked so comic, floundering in the air like a great human bubble, clutching at the ceiling sometimes and sometimes at the gas-bracket as he passed it, that Jane and Michael, though they were trying hard to be polite, just couldn’t help doing what they did.

“How do you do,” said Mr. Wigg, heartily shaking Michael by the hand.

“Well, I must say,” said Mary Poppins primly, “that I have never in my life seen such a sight. And at your age, Uncle—”

“Well,” said Mary Poppins, “it’s all very silly and undignified, but, since you’re all up there and don’t seem able to get down, I suppose I’d better come up, too.”

Jane and Michael, though they did not want to miss the crumpets and the cakes, couldn’t help laughing too, because Mr. Wigg’s mirth was so infectious.

“She was run over by an omnibus. Sad. Very sad. Unbearably sad. Poor Aunt Emily. But they saved her umbrella. That was funny, wasn’t it?”

Presently it was swaying dangerously, and then with a rattle of china and with cakes lurching off their plates on to the cloth, the table came soaring through the room, gave one graceful turn, and landed beside them so that Mr. Wigg was at its head.

Miss Persimmon flung back her head scornfully.

“I hope, young man,” she retorted, “I have more respect for myself than to go bouncing about in the air like a rubber ball on the end of a bat. I’ll stay on my own feet, thank you, or my names not Amy Persimmon, and—oh dear, oh dear, my goodness, oh DEAR—what is the matter? I can’t walk, I’m going, I—oh, help, HELP!”

Then Miss Persimmon turned and went wafting down again, murmuring as she went: “So undignified—and me a well-behaved, steady-going woman. I must see a doctor—”

When she touched the floor she ran hurriedly out of the room, wringing her hands, and not giving a single glance backwards.

“Well, isn’t that a pity?” he said soberly.

“Like what?” said Mary Poppins sharply, as though Michael had deliberately said something to offend her.