travellers.” He made another bow and waved his hand towards his house.
Jane and Michael had never heard such strange and beautiful language and were very astonished. But much more so when Mary Poppins herself answered the invitation with equal ceremony.
“Gracious Sir,” she began, “it is with deep regret that we, the humblest of your acquaintances, must refuse your expansive and more-than-royal invitation. The lamb does not leave the ewe, nor the young bird its nest, more unwillingly than we depart from your shining presence. But, noble and ten-times-splendid Sir, we are in the act of encompassing the world and our visit to your honourable city can, alas, be but momentary. Permit us, there-fore, to remove our unworthy persons from you without further ceremony.”
The Mandarin, for such indeed he was, bent his head and was preparing another elaborate bow, when Mary Poppins very quickly moved the compass again.
“West!” she said firmly.
Round went the world till Jane and Michael were quite dizzy. And when it grew still again they found themselves hurrying with Mary Poppins through great pine woods towards a clearing where several tents were pitched round a huge fire. In and out of the firelight flickered dark figures crowned with feathers and wearing loose tunics and trousers of fringed doe-skin. One of the largest of these figures broke away from the rest and came hurrying towards Mary Poppins and the children.
“Morning-Star-Mary,*” he said. “Greeting!” And he bent over her and touched his forehead with hers. Then he turned to the four children and did the same to them.
“My wigwam awaits you,” he said in a grave, friendly voice. “We are just frying a reindeer for supper.”
“Chief Sun-at-Noonday*,” said Mary Poppins, “we have only dropped in – indeed, we have come, as it were, to say good-bye. We have been round the world and this is our last port of call*.”
“Ha?* Is that so?” said the Chief, looking very interested. “I have often thought of doing that myself. But surely you can spend a little time with us, if only so long as to let this young person” (he nodded at Michael) “try his strength against my great-great-great-grandson, Fleet-as-the-Wind*!” The Chief clapped his hands.
“Hi – ho – hee!” he called loudly, and from the tents a little Indian boy ran towards them. He came swiftly up to Michael and when he reached him he flicked him lightly on the shoulder.
“Touched you last!*” he said and ran like a hare.
That was too much for Michael. With a bound he was after him, with Jane on the heels of both. The three of them went dodging among the trees, circling one huge pine again and again as Fleet-as-the-Wind led them on, always laughing and always out of reach. Jane dropped behind, beaten, but Michael was angry now and set his teeth and fled screaming after Fleet-as-the-Wind, determined not to be outrun by an Indian boy.
“I’ll get you!” he cried, straining to run still faster.
“What are you doing?” enquired Mary Poppins, snappily.
Michael looked back at her and stopped suddenly in his tracks. Then he turned again to the chase, but to his surprise there was no sign of Fleet-as-the-Wind. Nor of the Chief, nor the tents, nor the fire. There was not even a pine-tree to be seen. Nothing but a garden seat, and Jane and the Twins and Mary Poppins standing in the middle of the Park.
“Running round and round that garden seat as if you’d gone mad! One’d think you’d been naughty enough for one day. Come along!” said Mary Poppins.
Michael pushed out his mouth sulkily.
“All round the world and back again in a minute – what a wonderful box!” Jane was saying happily.
“Give me my compass!” demanded Michael rudely.
“My compass, thank you,” said Mary Poppins, and she put it away in her pocket.
Michael looked at her as if he would like to kill her, and, indeed, what he felt was very like what he looked. But he just shrugged his shoulders and stalked off in front of them all and would not say a word to anybody.
“I could beat* that boy any day,” he assured himself as he went through the gate of Number Seventeen and up the stairs…
The burning weight still hung heavily within him. After the adventure with the compass it seemed to grow worse, and towards the evening he grew naughtier and naughtier. He pinched the Twins when Mary Poppins was not looking, and when they cried he said in a falsely kind voice:
“Why, darlings, what is the matter?”
But Mary Poppins was not deceived by it.
“You’ve got something coming to you!” she said significantly. But the burning thing inside him would not let him care. He just shrugged his shoulders and pulled Jane’s hair. And after that he went to the supper table and upset his bread-and-milk.
“And that,” said Mary Poppins, “is the end. Such deliberate naughtiness I never saw. In all my born days I never did, and that’s a fact. Off you go! Straight into bed with you and not another word!”
He had never seen her look so terrible.
But still he didn’t care.
He went into the Night-nursery and undressed. No, he didn’t care. He was bad, and if they didn’t look out he’d be worse. He didn’t care. He hated everybody. If they weren’t careful he would run away and join a circus. There! Off went a button. Good – there would be fewer to do up in the morning. And another! All the better. Nothing in all the world could ever make him feel sorry. He would get into bed without brushing his hair or his teeth – certainly without saying his prayers.
He was just about to get into bed and, indeed, had one foot already in it, when he noticed the compass lying on the top of the chest of drawers.
Very slowly he withdrew his foot and tiptoed across the room. He knew now what he would do. He would take the compass and spin it and go round the world. And they’d never find him again. And it would serve them right. Without making a sound he lifted a chair and put it against the chest of drawers. Then he climbed up on it and took the compass in his hand.
He moved it.
“North, South, East, West!” he said very quickly, in case anybody should come in before he got well away.
A noise behind the chair startled him and he turned round guiltily, expecting to see Mary Poppins. But instead, there were four gigantic figures bearing down towards him – the Eskimo with a spear, the Negro Lady with her husband’s huge club, the Mandarin with a great curved sword, and the Red Indian with a tomahawk. They were rushing upon him from all four quarters of the room with their weapons raised above their heads, and, instead of looking kind and friendly as they had done that afternoon, they now seemed threatening and full of revenge. They were almost on top of him, their huge, terrible, angry faces looming nearer and nearer. He felt their hot breath on his face and saw their weapons tremble in their hands.
With a cry Michael dropped the compass.
“Mary Poppins, Mary Poppins – help me, help me!” he screamed, and shut his eyes tight.
He felt something envelop him, something soft and warm. Oh, what was it? The fur coat of the Eskimo, the Mandarin’s cloak, the
