Mary Poppins - the Complete Collection. P.L. Travers
And dancing about them, running now to one and now to another, she shepherded them back to the Toy Department. As they went, the crowds of shoppers stood and stared at them and dropped their parcels with astonishment.
“So cold for her. What can her parents be thinking of!” said the Mothers, with voices that were suddenly soft and gentle.
“I mean to say—!” said the Fathers. “It shouldn’t be allowed. Must write to The Times about it.” And their voices were unnaturally gruff and gritty.
The shopwalkers behaved curiously, too. As the little group passed they bowed to Maia as though she were a Queen.
But none of them – not Jane, nor Michael, nor Mary Poppins, nor Maia – noticed nor heard anything extraordinary. They were too busy with their own extraordinary adventure.
“Here we are!” said Maia, as she pranced into the Toy Department. “Now, what shall we choose?”
An Assistant, with a start, bowed respectfully as soon as he saw her.
“I want something for each of my sisters – six of them. You must help me, please,” said Maia, smiling at him.
“Certainly, madam,” said the Assistant agreeably.
“First – my eldest sister,” said Maia. “She’s very domestic. What about that little stove with the silver saucepans? Yes. And that striped broom. We are so troubled with Stardust, and she will love having that to sweep it up with.”
The Assistant began wrapping the things in coloured paper.
“Now for Taygete. She likes dancing. Don’t you think, Jane, a skipping-rope would be just the thing for her? You’ll tie them carefully, won’t you?” she said to the Assistant. “I have a long way to go.”
She fluttered on among the toys, never standing still for a moment, but walking with a light quicksilver step, as though she were still twinkling in the sky.
Mary Poppins and Jane and Michael could not take their eyes off her as she flickered from one of them to another asking their advice.
“Then there’s Alcyone. She’s difficult. She’s so quiet and thoughtful and never seems to want anything. A book, do you think, Mary Poppins? What is this Family – the Swiss-Robinsons? I think she would like that. And if she doesn’t, she can look at the pictures. Wrap it up!”
She handed the book to the Assistant.
“I know what Celæno wants,” she went on. “A hoop. She can bowl it across the sky in the daytime and make a circle of it to spin about her at night. She’ll love that red and blue one.” The Assistant bowed again and began to wrap up the hoop.
“Now there are only the two little ones left. Michael, what would you advise for Sterope?”
“What about a top?” said Michael, giving the question his earnest consideration.
“A humming top?” What a good idea! She will love to watch it go waltzing and singing down the sky. And what do you think for Merope, the baby, Jane?”
“John and Barbara,” said Jane shyly, “have rubber ducks!”
Maia gave a delighted squeal and hugged herself.
“Oh, Jane, how wise you are! I should never have thought of that. A rubber duck for Merope, please – a blue one with yellow eyes.”
The assistant tied up the parcels, while Maia ran round him, pushing at the paper, giving a tug to the string to make sure that it was firmly knotted.
“That’s right,” she said. “You see, I mustn’t drop anything.”
Michael, who had been staring steadily at her ever since she first appeared, turned and said in a loud whisper to Mary Poppins:
“But she has no purse. Who will pay for the toys?”
“None of your business,” snapped Mary Poppins. “And it’s rude to whisper.” But she began to fumble busily in her pocket.
“What did you say?” demanded Maia with round, surprised eyes. “Pay? Nobody will pay. There is nothing to pay – is there?”
She turned her shining gaze upon the Assistant.
“Nothing at all, madam,” he assured her, as he put the parcels into her arms and bowed again.
“I thought not. You see,” she said, turning to Michael, “the whole point of Christmas is that things should be given away, isn’t it? Besides, what could I pay with? We have no money up there.” And she laughed at the mere suggestion of such a thing.
“Now we must go,” she went on, taking Michael’s arm. “We must all go home. It’s very late, and I heard your Mother telling you that you must be home in time for tea. Besides, I must get back, too. Come.” And drawing Michael and Jane and Mary Poppins after her, she led the way through the shop and out by the spinning door.
Outside the entrance Jane suddenly said:
“But there’s no present for her. She’s bought something for all the others and nothing for herself. Maia has no Christmas present.” And she began to search hurriedly through the parcels she was carrying, to see what she could spare for Maia.
Mary Poppins gave a quick glance into the window beside her. She saw herself shining back at her, very smart, very interesting, her hat on straight, her coat nicely pressed and her new gloves just completing the whole effect.
“You be quiet,” she said to Jane in her snappiest voice. At the same time she whipped off her new gloves and thrust one on to each of Maia’s hands.
“There!” she said gruffly. “It’s cold today. You’ll be glad of them.”
Maia looked at the gloves, hanging very large and almost empty upon her hands. She said nothing, but moving close to Mary Poppins she reached up her spare arm and put it round Mary Poppins’ neck and kissed her. A long look passed between them, and they smiled as people smile who understand each other. Maia turned then, and with her hand lightly touched the cheeks of Jane and Michael. And for a moment they all stood in a ring at the windy corner gazing at each other as though they were enchanted.
“I’ve been so happy,” said Maia softly, breaking the silence. “Don’t forget me, will you?”
They shook their heads.
“Goodbye,” said Maia.
“Goodbye,” said the others, though it was the last thing they wanted to say.
Then Maia, standing poised on tiptoe, lifted up her arms and sprang into the air. She began to step, climbing ever higher, as though there were invisible stairs cut into the grey sky. She waved to them as she went, and the three of them waved back.
“What on earth is happening?” somebody said close by.
“But it’s not possible!” said another voice.
“Preposterous!” cried a third. For a crowd was gathering to witness the extraordinary sight of Maia returning home.
A Policeman pushed his way through the throng, scattering the people with his truncheon.
“Naow, naow. Wot’s all this? A Naccident or wot?”
He looked up, his gaze following that of the rest of the crowd.
“’Ere!” he called angrily, shaking his fist at Maia. “Come down! Wot you doing up there? ’Olding up the traffic and all. Come down! We can’t ’ave this kind of thing – not in a public place. ’Tisn’t natural!”
Far away they heard Maia laughing and saw something bright dangling from her arm. It was the skipping-rope. After all, the parcel had come undone.
For a moment