“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 – coat, hat, scarf and shoes, with herself inside – and she thought that, on the whole, she had never seen anybody looking quite so smart and distinguished.
But the winter afternoons, she knew, were short, and they had to be home by tea time. So with a sigh she wrenched herself away from her glorious reflection.
“Now we will go in,” she said, and annoyed Jane and Michael very much by lingering at the Haberdashery counter and taking great trouble over the choice of a reel of black cotton.
“The Toy Department,” Michael reminded her, “is in that direction.”
“I know, thank you. Don’t point,” she said, and paid her bill with aggravating slowness.
But at last they found themselves alongside Father Christmas, who went to the greatest trouble in helping them choose their presents.
“That will do nicely for Daddy,” said Michael, selecting a clockwork train with special signals. “I will take care of it for him when he goes to the City.”
“I think I will get this for Mother,” said Jane, pushing a small doll’s perambulator which, she felt sure, her Mother had always wanted. “Perhaps she will lend it to me sometimes.”
After that, Michael chose a packet of hairpins for each of the Twins and a Meccano set for his Mother, a mechanical beetle for Robertson Ay, a pair of spectacles for Ellen, whose eyesight was perfectly good, and some bootlaces for Mrs Brill who always wore slippers.
Jane, after some hesitation, eventually decided that a white dickey would be just the thing for Mr Banks, and she bought Robinson Crusoe for the Twins to read when they grew up.
“Until they are old enough, I can read it myself,” she said. “I am sure they will lend it to me.”
Mary Poppins then had a great argument with Father Christmas over a cake of soap.
“Why not Lifebuoy?” said Father Christmas, trying to be helpful and looking anxiously at Mary Poppins, for she was being rather snappy.
“I prefer Vinolia,” she said haughtily, and she bought a cake of that.
“My goodness,” she said, smoothing the fur on her right-hand glove. “I wouldn’t half like a cup of tea!”
“Would you quarter like it, though?” asked Michael.