Mary Poppins Comes Back. P. Travers L.

the bedclothes from Jane’s shoulders.

      “Oh, no, no!” grumbled Jane, pulling them up again.

      She felt very cross with Mary Poppins for rushing in and spoiling everything.

      “I don’t want to get up!” she said, turning her face into the pillow.

      “Oh, indeed?” Mary Poppins said calmly, as though the remark had no interest for her. She pulled the bedclothes right off the bed and Jane found herself standing on the floor.

      “Oh, dear,” she grumbled, “why do I always have to get up first?”

      “You’re the eldest – that’s why!” Mary Poppins pushed her towards the bathroom.

      “But I don’t want to be the eldest. Why can’t Michael be the eldest sometimes?”

      “Because you were born first – see?”

      “Well, I didn’t ask to be. I’m tired of being born first. I wanted to think.”

      “You can think when you’re brushing your teeth.”

      “Not the same thoughts.”

      “Well, nobody wants to think the same thoughts all the time.”

      “I do.”

      Mary Poppins gave her a quick, black look.

      “That’s enough, thank you!” And, from the tone of her voice, Jane knew she meant what she said.

      Mary Poppins hurried away to wake Michael.

      Jane put down her toothbrush and sat on the edge of the bath.

      “It’s not fair,” she grumbled, kicking the linoleum with her toes. “Making me do all the horrid things just because I’m the eldest! I won’t brush my teeth!”

      Immediately she felt surprised at herself. She was usually quite glad to be older than Michael and the Twins. It made her feel rather superior and much more important. But today – what was the matter with today that she felt so cross and peevish?

      “If Michael had been born first I’d have had time to hatch out my eggs!” she grumbled to herself, feeling that the day had begun badly.

      Unfortunately, instead of getting better, it grew worse.

      At breakfast, Mary Poppins discovered there was only enough Puffed Rice for three.

      “Well, Jane must have Porridge,” she said, setting out the plates and sniffing angrily, for she did not like making Porridge; there were always too many lumps in it.

      “But why?” complained Jane. “I want Puffed Rice.”

      Mary Poppins darted a fierce look at her.

      “Because you’re the eldest!”

      There it was again. That hateful word. She kicked the leg of her chair under the table, hoping she was scratching off the varnish, and ate her Porridge as slowly as she dared. She turned it round and round in her mouth, swallowing as little as possible. It would serve everybody right if she starved to death. Then they’d be sorry.

      “What is today?” enquired Michael cheerfully, scraping up the last of his Puffed Rice.

      “Wednesday,” said Mary Poppins. “Leave the pattern on the plate, please!”

      “Then it’s today we’re going to tea with Miss Lark!”

      “If you’re good,” said Mary Poppins darkly, as though she did not believe such a thing was possible.

      But Michael was in a cheerful mood, and took no notice.

      “Wednesday!” he shouted, banging his spoon on the table. “That’s the day Jane was born. Wednesday’s Child is full of Woe. That’s why she has to have Porridge instead of Rice!” he said naughtily.

      Jane frowned and kicked at him under the table. But he swung his legs aside and laughed.

      “Monday’s Child is Fair of Face, Tuesday’s Child is Full of Grace!” he chanted. “That’s true too. The Twins are full of grace, and they were born on a Tuesday. And I’m Monday – Fair of Face.”

      Jane laughed scornfully.

      “I am,” he insisted. “I heard Mrs Brill say so. She told Ellen I was as handsome as Half-a-crown.”

      “Well, that’s not very handsome,” said Jane. “Besides, your nose turns up.”

      Michael looked at her reproachfully. And again Jane felt surprised at herself. At any other time she would have agreed with him, for she thought Michael a very good-looking little boy. But now she said cruelly:

      “Yes, and your toes turn in. Bandy-legs! Bandy-legs!”

      Michael rushed at her.

      “That will be enough from you!” said Mary Poppins, looking angrily at Jane. “And if anybody in this house is a beauty, it’s—” She paused, and glanced with a satisfied smile at her own reflection in the mirror.

      “Who?” demanded Michael and Jane together.

      “Nobody of the name of Banks!” retorted Mary Poppins. “So there!”