Mary Poppins - the Complete Collection. P.L. Travers

      “Why do you bother to do that?” said Barbara, in her soft, amused voice that seemed always to be full of laughter. “There’s nobody to see you.”

      “I know,” said John, playing a tune on his toes. “But I like to keep in practice. It does so amuse the Grown-ups. Did you notice that Aunt Flossie nearly went mad with delight when I did it yesterday? ‘The Darling, the Clever, the Marvel, the Creature!’ – didn’t you hear her say all that?” And John threw his foot from him and roared with laughter as he thought of Aunt Flossie.

      “She liked my trick, too,” said Barbara complacently. “I took off both my socks and she said I was so sweet she would like to eat me. Isn’t it funny – when I say I’d like to eat something I really mean it. Biscuits and Rusks and the knobs of beds and so on. But Grown-ups never mean what they say, it seems to me. She couldn’t have really wanted to eat me, could she?”

      “No. It’s only the idiotic way they have of talking,” said John. “I don’t believe I’ll ever understand Grown-ups. They all seem so stupid. And even Jane and Michael are stupid sometimes.”

      “Um,” agreed Barbara, thoughtfully pulling off her socks.

      “For instance,” John went on, “they don’t understand a single thing we say. But, worse than that, they don’t understand what other things say. Why only last Monday I heard Jane remark that she wished she knew what language the Wind spoke.”

      “I know,” said Barbara. “It’s astonishing. And Michael always insists – haven’t you heard him? – that the Starling says ‘Wee-Twe – ee – ee!’ He seems not to know that the Starling says nothing of the kind, but speaks exactly the same language as we do. Of course, one doesn’t expect Mother and Father to know about it – they don’t know anything, though they are such darlings – but you’d think Jane and Michael would—”

      “They did once,” said Mary Poppins, folding up one of Jane’s nightgowns.

      “What?” said John and Barbara together in very surprised voices. “Really? You mean they understood the Starling and the Wind and—”

      “And what the trees say and the language of the sunlight and the stars – of course they did! Once,” said Mary Poppins.

      “But – how is it that they’ve forgotten it all?” said John, wrinkling up his forehead and trying to understand.

      “Aha!” said the Starling knowingly, looking up from the remains of his biscuit. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

      “Because they’ve grown older,” explained Mary Poppins. “Barbara, put on your socks at once, please.”

      “That’s a silly reason,” said John, looking sternly at her.

      “It’s the true one, then,” Mary Poppins said, tying Barbara’s socks firmly round her ankles.

      “Well, it’s Jane and Michael who are silly,” John continued. “I know I shan’t forget when I get older.”

      “Nor I,” said Barbara, contentedly sucking her finger.

      “Yes, you will,” said Mary Poppins firmly.

      The Twins sat up and looked at her.

      “Huh!” said the Starling contemptuously. “Look at ’em! They think they’re the World’s Wonders. Little miracles – I don’t think! Of course you’ll forget – same as Jane and Michael.”

      “We won’t,” said the Twins, looking at the Starling as if they would like to murder him.

      The Starling jeered.

      “I say you will,” he insisted. “It isn’t your fault, of course,” he added more kindly. “You’ll forget because you just can’t help it. There never was a human being that remembered after the age of one – at the very latest – except, of course, Her.” And he jerked his head over his shoulder at Mary Poppins.

      “But why can she remember and not us?” said John.

      “A-a-a-h! She’s different. She’s the Great Exception. Can’t go by her,” said the Starling, grinning at them both.

      John and Barbara were silent.

      The Starling went on explaining.

      “She’s something special, you see. Not in the matter of looks, of course. One of my own day-old chicks is handsomer that Mary P. ever was—”

      “Here, you impertinence!” said Mary Poppins crossly, making a dart at him and flicking her apron in his direction. But the Starling leapt aside and flew up to the window frame, whistling wickedly, well out of reach.

      “Thought you had me that time, didn’t you?” he jeered and shook his wing-feathers at her.

      Mary Poppins snorted.

      The sunlight moved on through the room, drawing its long gold shaft after it. Outside a light wind had sprung up and was whispering gently to the cherry trees in the Lane.

      “Listen, listen, the wind’s talking,” said John, tilting his head on one side. “Do you really mean we won’t be able to hear that when we’re older, Mary Poppins?”

      “You’ll hear all right,” said Mary Poppins, “but you won’t understand.” At that Barbara began to weep gently. There were tears in John’s eyes, too. “Well, it can’t be helped. It’s how things happen,” said Mary Poppins sensibly.

      “Look at them, just look at them!” jeered the Starling. “Crying fit to kill themselves! Why, a starling in the egg’s got more sense. Look at them!”

      For John and Barbara were now crying piteously in their cots – long-drawn sobs of deep unhappiness.

      Suddenly the door opened and in came Mrs Banks.

      “I thought I heard the babies,” she said, Then she ran to the Twins. “What is it, my darlings? Oh, my Treasures, my Sweets, my Love-birds, what is it? Why are they crying so, Mary Poppins? They’ve been so quiet all afternoon – not a sound out of them. What can be the matter?”

      “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. I expect they’re getting their teeth, ma’am,” said Mary Poppins, deliberately not looking in the direction of the Starling.

      “Oh, of course – that must be it,” said Mrs Banks brightly.

      “I don’t want teeth if they make me forget all the things I like best,” wailed John, tossing about in his cot.

      “Neither do I,” wept Barbara, burying her face in her pillow.

      “My poor ones, my pets – it will be all right when the naughty old teeth come through,” said Mrs Banks soothingly, going from one cot to the other.

      “You don’t understand!” roared John furiously. “I don’t want teeth.”

      “It won’t be all right, it will be all wrong!” wailed Barbara to her pillow.

      “Yes – yes. There – there. Mother knows – Mother understands. It will be all right when the teeth come through,” crooned Mrs Banks tenderly.

      A faint noise came from the window. It was the Starling hurriedly swallowing a laugh. Mary Poppins gave him one look. That sobered him, and he continued to regard the scene without the hint of a smile.

      Mrs Banks was patting her children gently, first one and then the other, and murmuring words that were meant to be reassuring. Suddenly John stopped crying. He had very good manners, and he was fond of his Mother and remembered what was due to her. It was not her fault, poor woman, that she always said the wrong thing. It was just, he reflected, that she did not understand. So, to show that he forgave her, he turned over on his back, and very dolefully, sniffing back