LITMIR.BIZ

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my Dearie,

      She’s my Dear-i-o!”

      And they saw the Penguin come dancing by, waving his short wings and singing lustily. He caught sight of them, bowed to the Hamadryad, and called out:

      “I got it – did you hear me singing it? It’s not perfect, of course. ‘Dearie’ does not rhyme exactly with Mary. But it’ll do, it’ll do!” and he skipped off and offered his wing to a leopard.

      Jane and Michael watched the dance, the Hamadryad secret and still between them. As their friend the Lion, dancing past, bent down to take the wing of a Brazilian Pheasant in his paw, Jane shyly tried to put her feelings into words.

      “I thought, Sir—” she began and stopped, feeling confused, and not sure whether she ought to say it or not.

      “Speak, my child!” said the Hamadryad. “You thought?”

      “Well – that lions and birds, and tigers and little animals—”

      The Hamadryad helped her. “You thought that they were natural enemies, that the lion could not meet a bird without eating it, nor the tiger the hare – eh?”

      Jane blushed and nodded.

      “Ah – you may be right. It is probable. But not on the Birthday,” said the Hamadryad. “Tonight the small are free from the great and the great protect the small. Even I—” he paused and seemed to be thinking deeply, “even I can meet a Barnacle goose without any thought of dinner – on this occasion. And after all,” he went on, flicking his terrible little forked tongue in and out as he spoke, “it may be that to eat and be eaten are the same thing in the end. My wisdom tells me that this is probably so. We are all made of the same stuff, remember, we of the Jungle, you of the City. The same substance composes us – the tree overhead, the stone beneath us, the bird, the beast, the star – we are all one, all moving to the same end. Remember that when you no longer remember me, my child.”

      “But how can tree be stone? A bird is not me. Jane is not a tiger,” said Michael stoutly.

      “You think not?” said the Hamadryad’s hissing voice. “Look!” and he nodded his head towards the moving mass of creatures before them. Birds and animals were now swaying together, closely encircling Mary Poppins, who was rocking lightly from side to side. Backwards and forwards went the swaying crowd, keeping time together, swinging like the pendulum of a clock. Even the trees were bending and lifting gently, and the moon seemed to be rocking in the sky as a ship rocks on the sea.

      “Bird and beast and stone and star – we are all one, all one—” murmured the Hamadryad, softly folding his hood about him as he himself swayed between the children.

      “Child and serpent, star and stone – all one.”

      The hissing voice grew softer. The cries of the swaying animals dwindled and became fainter. Jane and Michael, as they listened, felt themselves gently rocking too, or as if they were being rocked. . .

      Soft, shaded light fell on their faces.

      “Asleep and dreaming – both of them,” said a whispering voice. Was it the voice of the Hamadryad, or their mother’s voice as she tucked them in, on her usual nightly round of the Nursery?

      “Good.” Was that the Brown Bear gruffly speaking, or Mr Banks?

      Jane and Michael, rocking and swaying, could not tell. . . could not tell. . .

      “I had such a strange dream last night,” said Jane, as she sprinkled sugar over her porridge at breakfast. “I dreamt we were at the Zoo and it was Mary Poppins’ birthday, and instead of animals in the cages there were human beings, and all the animals were outside—”

      “Why, that’s my dream. I dreamt that, too,” said Michael, looking very surprised.

      “We can’t both have dreamt the same thing,” said Jane. “Are you sure? Do you remember the Lion who curled his mane and the Seal who wanted us to—”

      “Dive for orange peel?” said Michael. “Of course I do! And the babies inside the cage, and the Penguin who couldn’t find a rhyme, and the Hamadryad—”

      “Then it couldn’t have been a dream at all,” said Jane emphatically. “It must have been true. And if it was—” She looked curiously at Mary Poppins, who was boiling the milk.

      “Mary Poppins,” she said, “could Michael and I have dreamed the same dream?”

      “You and your dreams!” said Mary Poppins, sniffing. “Eat your porridge, please, or you will have no buttered toast.”

      But Jane would not be put off. She had to know.

      “Mary Poppins,” she said, looking very hard at her, “were you at the Zoo last night?”

      Mary Poppins’ eyes popped.

      “At the Zoo? In the middle of the night? Me? A quiet orderly person who knows that early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise?”

      “But were you?” Jane persisted.

      “I have all I need of zoos in this nursery, thank you,” said Mary Poppins uppishly. “Hyenas, orang-utans, all of you. Sit up straight, and no more nonsense.”

      Jane poured out her milk.

      “Then it must have been a dream,” she said, “after all.”

      But Michael was staring, open-mouthed, at Mary Poppins, who was now making toast at the fire.

      “Jane,” he said in a shrill whisper, “Jane, look!” He pointed, and Jane, too, saw what he was looking at.

      Round her waist Mary Poppins was wearing a belt made of golden scaly snakeskin, and on it was written in curving, snaky writing:

      “A Present From the Zoo.”

Chapter Eleven

       CHRISTMAS SHOPPING

      “I SMELL SNOW,” said Jane, as they got out of the Bus.

      “I smell Christmas trees,” said Michael.

      “I smell fried fish,” said Mary Poppins.

      And then there was no time to smell anything else, for the Bus had stopped outside the Largest Shop in the World, and they were all going into it to do their Christmas shopping.

      “May we look at the windows first?” said Michael, hopping excitedly on one leg.

      “I don’t mind,” said Mary Poppins with surprising mildness. Not that Jane and Michael were really very surprised, for they knew that the thing Mary Poppins liked doing best of all was looking in shop windows. They knew, too, that while they saw toys and books and holly-boughs and plum cakes Mary Poppins saw nothing but herself reflected there.

      “Look, aeroplanes!” said Michael, as they stopped before a window in which toy aeroplanes were careering through the air on wires.

      “And look there!” said Jane. “Two tiny black babies in one cradle – are they chocolate, do you think, or china?”

      “Just look at you!” said Mary Poppins to herself, particularly noticing how nice her new gloves with the fur tops looked. They were the first pair she had ever had, and she thought she would never grow tired of looking at them in the shop windows with her hands inside them. And having examined the reflection of the gloves she went carefully over her whole person

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