“This is your doing, Mary! Don’t deny it. That cake, when the tin was last open, was a Plum Cake, and now—”
“Sponge is more digestible,” said Mary Poppins primly. “Eat slowly, please. You’re not Starving Savages!” she snapped, passing a small slice each to Jane and Michael.
“That’s all very well,” grumbled Mr Turvy bitterly, eating his slice in two bites. “But I do like a plum or two, I must admit. Ah, well, this is not my lucky day!” He broke off as somebody rapped loudly on the door.
“Come in!” called Mr Turvy.
Miss Tartlet, looking, if anything, rounder than ever, and panting from her climb up the stairs, burst into the room.
“The tin-opener, Mr Turvy—” she began grimly. Then she paused and stared.
“My!” she said, opening her mouth very wide and letting the tin-opener slip from her hand. “Of all the sights I ever did see, this is the one I wouldn’t have expected!”
She took a step forward, gazing at the four pairs of waving feet with an expression of deep disgust.
“Upside down – the lot of you – like flies on a ceiling! And you supposed to be respectable human creatures. This is no place for a lady of my standing. I shall leave the house this instant, Mr Turvy. Please note that!”
She flounced angrily towards the door.
But even as she went her great billowing skirts blew against her round legs and lifted her from the floor.
A look of agonised astonishment spread over her face. She flung out her hands wildly.
“Mr Turvy! Mr Turvy, Sir! Catch me! Hold me down! Help! Help!” cried Miss Tartlet, as she, too, began a sweeping Catherine wheel.
“Oh, oh, the world’s turning turtle! What shall I do? Help! Help!” she shrieked, as she went over again.
But as she turned a curious change came over her. Her round face lost its peevish expression and began to shine with smiles. And Jane and Michael, with a start of surprise, saw her straight hair crinkle into a mass of little curls as she whirled and twirled through the room. When she spoke again her gruff voice was as sweet as honeysuckle.
“What can be happening to me?” cried Miss Tartlet’s new voice. “I feel like a ball! A bouncing ball! Or perhaps a balloon! Or a cherry tart!” She broke into a peal of happy laughter.
“Dear me, how cheerful I am!” she trilled, turning and circling through the air. “I never enjoyed my life before, but now I feel I shall never stop. It’s the loveliest sensation. I shall write home to my Sister about it, to my Cousins and Uncles and Aunts. I shall tell them that the only proper way to live is upside down, upside down, upside down—”
And, chanting happily, Miss Tartlet went whirling round and round. Jane and Michael watched her with delight and Mr Turvy watched her with surprise, for he had never known Miss Tartlet to be anything but peevish and unfriendly.
“Very odd! Very odd!” said Mr Turvy to himself, shaking his head as he stood on it.
Another knock sounded at the door.
“Anyone here name of Turvy?” enquired a voice, and the Post Man appeared in the doorway holding a letter. He stood staring at the sight that met his eyes.
“Holy smoke!” he remarked, pushing his cap to the back of his head. “I must-a come to the wrong place. I’m looking for a decent, quiet gentleman called Turvy. I’ve got a letter for him. Besides, I promised my wife I’d be home early and I’ve broken my word, and I thought—”
“Ha!” said Mr Turvy from the floor. “A broken promise is one of the things I can’t mend. Not in my line. Sorry!”
The Post Man stared down at him.
“Am I dreaming or am I not?” he muttered. “It seems to me I’ve got into a whirling, twirling, skirling company of lunatics!”
“Give me the letter, dear Post Man! Mr Turvy, you see, is engaged! Give the letter to Topsy Tartlet and turn upside down with me.”
Miss Tartlet, wheeling towards the Post Man, took his hand in hers. And as she touched him his feet slithered off the floor into the air. Then away they went, hand in hand, and over and over, like a pair of bouncing footballs.
“How lovely it is!” cried Miss Tartlet happily. “Oh, Post Man dear, we’re seeing life for the first time. And such a pleasant view of it! Over we go! Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Yes!” shouted Jane and Michael, as they joined the wheeling dance of the Post Man and Miss Tartlet.
Presently Mr Turvy, too, joined in, awkwardly turning and tossing through the air. Mary Poppins and her umbrella followed, going over and over evenly and neatly and with the utmost dignity. There they all were, spinning and wheeling, with the world going up and down outside, and the happy cries of Miss Tartlet echoing through the room.
“The whole of the Town
Is Upside Down!”
she sang, bouncing and bounding.
And up on the shelves the cracked and broken hearts twirled and spun like tops, the Shepherdess and her Lion waltzed gracefully together, the grey-flannel Elephant stood on his trunk in the boat and kicked his feet in the air, and the Toy Sailor danced a hornpipe, not on his feet but his head, which bobbed about the Willow-pattern plate very gracefully.
“How happy I am!” cried Jane, as she careered across the room.
“How happy I am!” cried Michael, turning somersaults in the air.
Mr Turvy mopped his eyes with his handkerchief as he bounced off the window-pane.
Mary Poppins and her umbrella said nothing, but just sailed calmly round, head downwards.
“How happy we all are!” cried Miss Tartlet.
But the Post Man had now found his tongue and he did not agree with her.
“’Ere!” he shouted, turning again. “’Elp! ’Elp! Where am I? Who am I? What am I? I don’t know at all. I’m lost! Oh, ’elp!”
But nobody helped him and, firmly held in Miss Tartlet’s grasp, he was whirled on.
“Always lived a quiet life – I have!” he moaned. “Behaved like a decent citizen too. Oh, what’ll my wife say? And ’ow shall I get ’ome? ’Elp! Fire! Thieves!”
And, making a great effort, he wrenched his hand violently from Miss Tartlet’s. He dropped the letter into the cake-tin and went wheeling out of the door and down the stairs, head over heels, crying loudly:
“I’ll have the law on them! I’ll call the Police! I’ll speak to the Post Master General!”
His voice died away as he went bounding farther down the stairs.
Ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping!
The clock outside in the Square sounded six.
And at the same moment Jane’s and Michael’s feet came down to the floor with a thud, and they stood up, feeling rather giddy.
Mary Poppins gracefully turned right-side-up, looking as smart and tidy as a figure in a shop-window.
The Umbrella wheeled over and stood on its point.
Mr Turvy, with a great tossing of legs, scrambled to his feet.
The hearts on the shelf stood still and steady, and no movement came from the Shepherdess or the Lion, or the grey-flannel Elephant or the Toy Sailor. To look at them you would never have guessed that a moment before they had all been dancing on their heads.
Only Miss Tartlet went whirling on, round and round the room, feet over head, laughing happily and singing her song.