The grey-flannel Elephant lumbered past, uttering happy jungle cries and using his trunk as a trumpet.
“May I have the pleasure, my dear young Lady?” He bowed to the Sleeping Beauty. She gave him her hand and they danced away, Alfred taking care not to tread on her toes and the Sleeping Beauty yawning daintily and looking very dreamy.
Everyone seemed to be choosing a partner or finding a friend in the throng.
“Kiss me! Kiss me!” cried a group of girls, as they twined their arms round a large fat schoolboy.
“Out of my way, young Georgie-Porgie!” cried the Farmer’s Wife, dancing with Three Blind Mice.
And the fat boy plunged off into the crowd with the girls all laughing about him.
“One and two and hop and turn – that’s the way it goes.” Red Riding Hood, holding the Wolf by the paw, was teaching him how to dance. The Wolf, looking very humble and shy, was watching his feet as she counted.
Jane and Michael could hardly believe their eyes. But before they had time to think about it, a friendly voice hailed them.
“Do you dance?” said Robinson Crusoe gaily, as he took Jane’s hand and whirled her away. She swung around, pressed to his goatskin coat, as Michael pranced off in the arms of Man Friday.
“Who is that?” asked Jane as they danced along. For there was the Blue Duck waddling past, clasped to the bosom of a large grey bird.
“That’s Goosey Gander!” said Robinson Crusoe. “And there is Pinnie – with Cinderella.”
She glanced round quickly. And there, sure enough, was old rag Pinnie, looking very important and proud of himself as he danced with a beautiful Lady.
Everybody had a partner. No one was lonely or left out. All the fairy-tales ever told were gathered together on that square of grass, embracing each other with joy.
“Are you happy, Jane?” Michael called to her, as he and Friday went galloping past.
“For ever and ever!” she answered smiling, and for that moment knew it was true.
The music was swifter now and wilder. It tossed among the tossing trees, it echoed above the strokes of the clock. Mary Poppins, the Pig and the Fiddling Cat were bending and swaying as they played. Again and again the Blackbirds sang and never seemed to grow weary. The fairy-tale figures swung about the children; and in their ears the fairy-tale voices were sweetly singing and laughing.
“Happy ever after!” came the echoing cry, from everyone in the Park.
“What was that?” cried Jane to her partner. For behind the shouting and the music, she had heard the boom of the clock.
“Time’s nearly up!” said Robinson Crusoe. “That must have been the Sixth Sense!”
They paused for a moment in their dance and listened to the clock.
Seven! Above the sound rose the fairy-tale music, rocking them all in its golden net.
Eight! said the steady, distant boom. And the dancing feet seemed to move more swiftly.
Nine! The trees themselves were dancing now, bending their boughs to the fairy tune.
Ten! O, Lion and Unicorn, Wolf and Lamb! Friend and Enemy! Dark and Light!
Eleven! O, fleeting moment! O, time on the wing! How short is the space between the years! Let us be happy – happy ever after!
Twelve!
Solemn and deep the last stroke struck.
“Twelve!” The cry went up from every throat and the ring immediately broke and scattered. Bright shapes brushed swiftly past the children. Jack and his Giant, Punch and Judy. Away sped the Spider with Miss Muffet, and Humpty-Dumpty on his spindly legs. The Lion, the Unicorn, Goldilocks, Red Riding Hood and Three Blind Mice – they streamed away across the grass and seemed to melt in the moonshine.
Cinderella and the Witches vanished. The Sleeping Beauty and the Cat with the Fiddle fled, and were lost in light. And Jane and Michael, looking round for their partners, found that Robinson Crusoe and his Man Friday had dissolved into the air.
The fairy-tale music died away, it was lost in the lordly peal of bells. For now from every tower and steeple the chimes rang out, triumphant. Big Ben, St Paul’s, St Bride’s, Old Bailey, Southwark, St Martin’s. Westminster, Bow. . .
But one bell sounded above the others, merry and clear and distinct.
“Ting-aling-aling-aling! It was different, somehow, from the New Year bells, familiar and friendly and nearer home.
Ting-aling-aling! it cried. And mixed with its echoes was a well-known voice.
“Who wants crumpets?” the voice said loudly, demanding an immediate answer.
Jane and Michael opened their eyes. They sat up and stared about them. They were in their beds, under the eiderdowns, and John and Barbara were asleep beside them. The fire glowed gaily in the grate. The morning light streamed through the Nursery window. And from somewhere down below in the Lane came the sound of the tinkling bell.
“I said ‘Who wants crumpets?’ Didn’t you hear me? The Crumpet Man’s down in the Lane.”
There was no mistaking it. The voice was the voice of Mary Poppins, and it sounded very impatient.
“I do!” said Michael hurriedly.
“I do!” echoed Jane.
Mary Poppins sniffed. “Then why not say so at once!” she said snappily. She crossed to the window and waved her hand to summon the Crumpet Man.
Downstairs the front gate opened quickly with its usual noisy squeak. The Crumpet Man ran up the path and knocked at the Back Door. He was sure of an order from Number Seventeen, for all the Banks family were partial to crumpets.
Mary Poppins turned away from the window and put a log on the fire.
Michael gazed at her sleepily for a moment. Then he rubbed his eyes, and, with a start, he woke up completely.
“I say!” he shouted. “I want my Pig! Where is it, Mary Poppins?”
“Yes!” joined in Jane. “And I want Alfred! And where are the Blue Duck and Pinnie?”
“On the top of the cupboard. Where else would they be?” said Mary Poppins crossly.
They glanced up. There were the four toys standing in a row, exactly as she had left them. And in front of them lay Robinson Crusoe, The Green Fairy Book and Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes. But the books were no longer open as they had been last night. They were piled upon one another neatly and all were firmly closed.
“But – how did they get back from the Park?” said Michael, very surprised.
“And where is the Pig’s flute?” Jane exclaimed. “And your concertina!”
It was now Mary Poppins’ turn to stare.
“My – what?” she enquired, with an ominous look.
“Your concertina, Mary Poppins! You played it last night in the Park!”
Mary Poppins turned from the fire and came towards Jane, glaring.
“I’d like you to repeat that, please!” Her voice was quiet, but dreadful. “Did I understand you to say, Jane Banks, that I was in the Park last night, playing a musical instrument? Me?”
“But you were!” protested Michael bravely. “We were all there. You and the Toys and Jane and I. We were dancing with the Fairy-tales inside the Crack!”
Mary Poppins stared at them as though her ears had betrayed her. The look on her face was Simply Frightful.
“Fairy-tales inside the Crack? Humph! You’ll have Fairy-tales inside the Bath-room, if I hear One More Word. And the door locked, I promise you! Crack, indeed! Cracked, more likely!”