his will, but because he didn’t dare not to, Michael looked in the direction in which she was pointing. Yes – there was something shining on the path. From that distance it looked very interesting and its sparkling rays of light seemed to beckon him. He walked on, swaggering a little, going as slowly as he dared and pretending that he didn’t really want to see what it was.
He reached the spot and, stooping, picked up the shining thing. It was a small round sort of box with a glass top and on the glass an arrow marked. Inside, a round disc that seemed to be covered with letters swung gently as he moved the box.
Jane ran up and looked at it over his shoulder.
“What is it, Michael?” she asked.
“I won’t tell you,” said Michael, though he didn’t know himself.
“Mary Poppins, what is it?” demanded Jane, as the perambulator drew up beside them. Mary Poppins took the little box from Michael’s hand.
“It’s mine,” he said jealously.
“No, mine,” said Mary Poppins. “I saw it first.”
“But I picked it up.” He tried to snatch it from her hand, but she gave him such a look that his hand fell to his side.
She tilted the round thing backwards and forwards, and in the sunlight the disc and its letters went careering madly inside the box.
“What’s it for?” asked Jane.
“To go round the world with,” said Mary Poppins.
“Pooh!” said Michael. “You go round the world in a ship, or an aeroplane. I know that. The box thing wouldn’t take you round the world.”
“Oh, indeed – wouldn’t it?” said Mary Poppins, with a curious I-know-better-than-you expression on her face. “You just watch!”
And holding the compass in her hand she turned towards the entrance of the Park and said the word “North!”
The letters slid round the arrow, dancing giddily. Suddenly the atmosphere seemed to grow bitterly cold, and the wind became so icy that Jane and Michael shut their eyes against it. When they opened them the Park had entirely disappeared – not a tree nor a green-painted seat nor an asphalt footpath was in sight. Instead, they were surrounded by great boulders of blue ice and beneath their feet snow lay thickly frosted upon the ground.
“Oh, oh!” cried Jane, shivering with cold and surprise, and she rushed to cover the Twins with their perambulator rug. “What has happened to us?”
Mary Poppins looked at Michael significantly. She had no time to reply, however, for at that moment, out of a hole in one of the boulders, an Eskimo man emerged, his round, brown face surrounded by a bonnet of white fur, and a long white fur coat over his shoulders.
“Welcome to the North Pole, Mary Poppins and Friends!” said the Eskimo, with a broad smile of welcome. Then he came forward and rubbed his nose against each of their noses in turn, as a sign of greeting. Presently a lady Eskimo came out of the hole carrying a baby Eskimo wrapped up in a sealskin shawl.
“Why, Mary, this is a treat!” she said, and she, too, rubbed noses all round. “You must be cold,” she said then, looking with surprise at their thin dresses. “Let me get you some fur coats. We’ve just been skinning a couple of Polar Bears. And you’d like some hot whale-blubber* soup, wouldn’t you, my dears?”
“I’m afraid we can’t stay,” Mary Poppins rejoined quickly. “We’re going round the world, and only looked in for a moment, thank you all the same. Another time, perhaps.”
And, making a little movement of her hand, she spun the compass and said “South!”
It seemed to Jane and Michael then as if the whole world, like the compass, were spinning round and that they were in the middle of the spin, as one is when the conductor, as a special treat, takes you inside the works of a Merry-go-Round.
As the world swung round them they felt themselves getting warmer and warmer, and when it slowed down again and became steady they found themselves standing beside a grove of palm-trees. The sun spread a cloak of warmth around them, and the sand was golden beneath their feet.
Under the palm-trees sat a man and a woman as black and shiny and plump as ripe plums, and wearing very few clothes. But to make up for this they wore a great many beads. Some hung round their foreheads below great crowns of feathers; others were looped about their ears; there were one or two in their noses. They had necklaces of coloured beads and belts of plaited beads round their waists. And on the knee of the dark lady sat a tiny plum-black baby with nothing on at all! It smiled at the children as its Mother spoke.
“We’ve been anticipating your visit, Mary Poppins,” she said, smiling. “Goodness, those are very pale children! Where did you find them? On the moon?” She laughed at them, loud happy laughter, as she got to her feet and began to lead the way to a little hut made of palm-leaves. “Come in, come in and share our dinner. You’re all as welcome as sunlight.”
Jane and Michael were about to follow, but Mary Poppins held them back.
“We’ve no time to stay, unfortunately. Just dropped in as we were passing, you know. We’ve got to get round the world,” she explained. And the black people flung up their hands in surprise.
“That’s some distance,* Mary Poppins,” said the man, his dark eyes looking doubtful as he rubbed his cheek with the end of the big club he was carrying.
“Round the world! That’s all the way from here to there! You’ll wear out your shoes,” his wife cried. She laughed again as if this, and everything else in the world, were one huge happy joke. And while she was laughing Mary Poppins moved the compass and cried in a loud, firm voice, “East!”
The world went spinning again and presently – it seemed to the astonished children only a few seconds – the palm-trees were no longer there, and when the spinning movement ceased they found themselves in a street lined with curiously shaped and very small houses. These appeared to be made of paper and the curved roofs were hung with little bells that rang gently in the breeze. Over the houses almond and plum trees spread branches weighted down with bright blossom, and along the little street people in strange flowery garments were quietly walking. It was a most pleasant and peaceful scene.
“I believe we’re in China,” whispered Jane to Michael. “Yes, I’m sure we are!” she went on, as they watched the door of one of the little paper houses opening and an old man stepping through it. He was curiously dressed, in a stiff brocade kimono of gold, and silken trousers gathered in with a golden ring at the ankles. His shoes turned up at the toes, very stylishly; from his head there hung a long grey pigtail that reached nearly to his knees, and from his lips drooped as far as his waist a very long moustache.
The old gentleman, seeing the little group formed by Mary Poppins and the children, bowed so low that his head touched the ground. Jane and Michael were surprised to see Mary Poppins bowing in the same way, till the daisies in her hat were brushing the earth.
“Where are your manners?*” hissed Mary Poppins, looking up at them from that unusual position. And she said it so fiercely that they thought they had better bow, too, and the Twins bent their foreheads against the edge of their perambulator.
The old man, rising ceremoniously, began to speak.
“Honourable Mary* of the House of Poppins,”
