LITMIR.BIZ

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Red Cow thought of the lush sweet taste of dandelions. She thought of meadow grass and how soft it was to lie on. She thought of her weary, capering legs and how nice it would be to rest them. And she said to herself: “Perhaps, just for once, it wouldn’t matter and nobody – except the King – need know.”

      “How high do you suppose it is?” she said aloud as she danced.

      The King looked up at the Moon.

      “At least a mile, I should think,” said he.

      The Red Cow nodded. She thought so, too. For a moment she considered, and then she made up her mind.

      “I never thought that I should come to this, your Majesty. Jumping – and over the moon at that. But – I’ll try it,” she said and curtseyed gracefully to the throne.

      “Good,” said the King pleasantly, realizing that he would be in time for the Barber, after all. “Follow me!”

      He led the way into the garden, and the Red Cow and the Courtiers followed him.

      “Now,” said the King, when he reached the open lawn, “when I blow the whistle – jump!”

      He took a large golden whistle from his waistcoat pocket and blew into it lightly to make sure there was no dust in it.

      The Red Cow danced at attention.

      “Now – one!” said the King.

      “Two!”

      “Three!”

      Then he blew the whistle.

      The Red Cow, drawing in her breath, gave one huge, tremendous jump and the earth fell away beneath her. She could see the figures of the King and the Courtiers growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared below. She herself shot upwards through the sky, with the stars spinning around her like great golden plates, and presently, in blinding light, she felt the cold rays of the moon upon her. She shut her eyes as she went over it, and as the dazzling gleam passed behind her and she bent her head towards the earth again, she felt the star slip down her horn. With a great rush it fell off and went rolling down the sky. And it seemed to her that as it disappeared into the darkness great chords of music came from it and echoed through the air.

      In another minute the Red Cow had landed on the earth again. To her great surprise she found that she was not in the King’s garden but in her own dandelion field.

      And she had stopped dancing! Her feet were as steady as though they were made of stone and she walked as sedately as any other respectable cow. Quietly and serenely she moved across the field, beheading her golden soldiers as she went to greet the Red Calf.

      “I’m so glad you’re back!” said the Red Calf. “I’ve been so lonely.”

      The Red Cow kissed it and fell to munching the meadow. It was her first good meal for a week. And by the time her hunger was satisfied she had eaten up several regiments. After that she felt better. She soon began to live her life just exactly as she had lived it before.

      At first she enjoyed her quiet regular habits very much, and was glad to be able to eat her breakfast without dancing and to lie down in the grass and sleep at night instead of curtseying to the moon until the morning.

      But after a little she began to feel uncomfortable and dissatisfied. Her dandelion field and her Red Calf were all very well, but she wanted something else and she couldn’t think what it was. At last she realized that she was missing her star. She had grown so used to dancing and to the happy feeling the star had given her that she wanted to do a Sailor’s Hornpipe and to have the star on her horn again.

      She fretted, she lost her appetite, her temper was atrocious. And she frequently burst into tears for no reason at all. Eventually, she went to my Mother and told her the whole story and asked her advice.

      “Good gracious, my dear!” my Mother said to her. “You don’t suppose that only one star ever fell out of the sky! Billions fall every night, I’m told. But they fall in different places, of course. You can’t expect two stars to drop in the same field in one lifetime.”

      “Then, you think – if I moved about a bit—?” the Red Cow began, a happy, eager look coming into her eyes.

      “If it were me,” said my Mother, “I’d go and look for one.”

      “I will,” said the Red Cow joyously. “I will indeed.”

      Mary Poppins paused.

      “And that, I suppose, is why she was walking down Cherry Tree Lane,” Jane prompted gently.

      “Yes,” whispered Michael, “she was looking for her star.”

      Mary Poppins sat up with a little start. The intent look had gone from her eyes and the stillness from her body.

      “Come down from that window at once, sir!” she said crossly. “I am going to turn on the lights.” And she hurried across the landing to the electric light switch.

      “Michael!” said Jane in a careful whisper. “Just have one look and see if the cow’s still there.”

      Hurriedly Michael peered out through the gathering dusk.

      “Quickly!” said Jane. “Mary Poppins will be back in one minute. Can you see her?”

      “No-o-o,” said Michael, staring out. “Not a sign of her. She’s gone.”

      “I do hope she finds it!” said Jane, thinking of the Red Cow roaming through the world looking for a star to stick on her horn.

      “So do I,” said Michael as, at the sound of Mary Poppins’ returning footsteps, he hurriedly pulled down the blind. . .

Chapter Six

       BAD TUESDAY

      IT WAS NOT very long afterwards that Michael woke up one morning with a curious feeling inside him. He knew, the moment he opened his eyes, that something was wrong but he was not quite sure what it was.

      “What is today, Mary Poppins?” he enquired, pushing the bedclothes away from him.

      “Tuesday,” said Mary Poppins. “Go and turn on your bath. Hurry!” she said, as he made no effort to move. He turned over and pulled the bedclothes up over his head and the curious feeling increased.

      “What did I say?” said Mary Poppins in that cold, clear voice that was always a Warning.

      Michael knew now what was happening to him. He knew he was going to be naughty.

      “I won’t,” he said slowly, his voice muffled by the blanket.

      Mary Poppins twitched the clothes from his hand and looked down upon him.

      “I WON’T.”

      He waited, wondering what she would do, and was surprised when, without a word, she went into the bathroom and turned on the tap herself. He took his towel and went slowly in as she came out. And for the first time in his life Michael entirely bathed himself. He knew by this that he was in disgrace, and he purposely neglected to wash behind his ears.

      “Shall I let out the water?” he enquired in the rudest voice he had.

      There was no reply.

      “Pooh, I don’t care!” said Michael, and the hot heavy weight that was within him swelled and grew larger. “I don’t care!”

      He dressed himself then, putting on his best clothes,

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