“Well, he won’t be there long,” said Mary Poppins. And she stalked out into the garden.
She was quite right. He wasn’t there long. She must have said something Really Awful, for as they trailed after her down the path Robertson Ay was waiting at the garden gate.
“Keep up and don’t straggle, if you please! This is not a Tortoise Parade.” Mary Poppins took a Twin by each hand and hurried them along beside her.
“Day in and day out, it’s always the same, I never get a moment’s peace.” Robertson Ay gave a stifled yawn as he handed Jane his hat to carry and stumbled along with his eyes half-closed.
Down the High Street marched Mary Poppins, glancing at the windows now and again to admire her own reflection.
Lovely! she thought, as her prim, trim figure in its pigeon’s-wing hat went bowing from mirror to mirror.
Her first stop was at Mr Trimlet’s – Ironmonger, Hardware and Garden Tools.
“One mouse-trap!” she said haughtily, as she darted in at the door of the shop and read from Mrs Banks’ list.
Mr Trimlet was a bony man with a large purplish face. He was sitting behind the counter with his hat on the back of his head. And the morning paper was propped around him like an old Chinese screen.
“Only one?” he asked rudely, peering round the edge of the screen to look at Mary Poppins. “Sorry, Miss!” he said with a leer. “But one trap wouldn’t be worth me while!” He shook his head and was about to turn away when he caught the look on her face. His purple cheeks turned the colour of lilac.
“Just my joke,” he said hurriedly. “No offence meant! Why, I’d sell ’alf a mouse-trap if I thought you wanted it. Not to mention a nice bit ’o cheese to go with it.”
“One mincing machine,” said Mary Poppins, as she fixed him with a stare.
“And I’ll throw in a pound of steak for luck,” said Mr Trimlet eagerly.
Mary Poppins took no notice.
“Half-a-dozen pot cleaners, one tin of bees’ wax, one floor mop,” she read out quickly.
“Setting up ’ouse?” enquired Mr Trimlet, smiling nervously as he tied up the parcels.
“A packet of nails and a garden rake,” she went on. She looked right through his purple face as though it were made of glass.
“And wot about the sawdust?” he enquired. “All that wot them children has spilt?”
Mary Poppins spun round. Jane and Michael and the Twins were sitting comfortably on a fat brown sack, and their weight had squeezed a stream of sawdust out on to the floor. Her eyes blazed.
“If you don’t get up this minute—” she began. And her voice was so frightful that they sprang to their feet without waiting to hear the rest of the sentence. Robertson Ay, who had been asleep on a garden roller, woke up with a start and began to collect the parcels.
“We were only resting our legs—” Michael began.
“One More Word and you’ll find yourself resting in Bed! I warn you!” she told him fiercely.
“I’ll make no charge,” declared Mr Trimlet, as he hurriedly swept up the sawdust. “Seein’ it’s you!” he added eagerly, still trying to be friendly.
Mary Poppins gave him a contemptuous stare.
“There’s paint on your nose,” she announced calmly, and stalked out of the shop.
Then off she went, like a human whirlwind, speeding up the High Street. And off went the children and Robertson Ay, wheeling behind her like the tail of a comet.
At the Baker’s she bought a loaf of bread, two boxes of tarts and some ginger biscuits.
“Don’t mind me,” sighed Robertson Ay as she piled them into his arms.
“I won’t!” she retorted cheerfully. She hurried on to the Greengrocer’s for peas, beans and cherries.
“The Last Straw breaks the Camel’s back,” said Robertson Ay, as she thrust them at him.
“So they say!” she remarked with a chilly smile and consulted her list again.
The next place was the Stationer’s where she bought a bottle of ink; and then she went to the Chemist for a packet of mustard plasters. Robertson Ay laid his chin on the parcels and wearily closed his eyes. Jane and Michael felt very sorry for him but far more sorry for themselves.
By now they had come to the end of the High Street. But still Mary Poppins did not stop. The children looked at each other and sighed. There were no more shops. Where could she be going?
“Oh, dear, Mary Poppins, my legs are breaking!” said Michael, limping pathetically.
“Can’t we go home now, Mary Poppins? My shoes are worn out!” complained Jane.
And the Twins began to whimper and whine like a couple of fretful puppies.
Mary Poppins regarded them all with disgust.
“A set of Jellyfish – that’s what you are! You haven’t a backbone between you!”
And popping the shopping-list into her bag, she gave a quick contemptuous sniff and hurried round the corner. After her tottered Robertson Ay, hung about with parcels like a Christmas Tree. And behind him trailed the grumbling children, straggling along with their eyes on the ground.
“A Jellyfish swims,” said Michael angrily. “And it doesn’t have to go shopping!” He was so tired that he almost didn’t care whether Mary Poppins heard him or not.
The breeze blew gently from the Park, full of the scents of the morning. It smelt of laurel leaves and moss, and something else that was vaguely familiar. What could it be? Jane sniffed the air.
“Michael!” she whispered. “I smell Peppermint!”
Michael was feeling extremely cross. But he wouldn’t for the life of him let Jane smell something that he couldn’t smell. He sniffed like a sulky little dog.
“Um-hum,” he admitted, “I do too!”
And then it was that they both noticed the red-and-green umbrella. It stood beside the iron railings on the Town side of the Park. Against it leant a large white signboard:
MISS CALICO
CONFECTIONER
HORSES FOR HIRE
said the words in big black letters.
The children stared.
For beneath the red-and-green umbrella sat one of the strangest little figures they had ever seen. At first they could not make out what it was, for it sparkled and glittered like a diamond. Then they saw that it was a small elderly lady with a skinny, leathery, yellow face and a mane of short white hair. The glitter and sparkle came from her dress, which was covered from collar to hem with pins. They stuck out all over her, like the quills of a hedgehog, and whenever she moved they flashed in the sunlight. In her hand she held a riding-whip. And every now and again she cracked it at one of the passers-by.
“Peppermint Candy! Bargain Prices! All of it made of Finest Sugar!” she cried in a little whinnying voice as the whip swished through the air.
“Come on, Michael!” said Jane excitedly, forgetting how tired she was.
Michael had no desire to be friendly. On the other hand, he was determined not to be left out of anything. He took her hand and let her drag him towards the striped umbrella.
As they drew nearer the sparkling figure, they saw a sight that filled them with hunger. For beside her stood a glass jar that was filled with peppermint walking-sticks.
“Sugar and Spice
And all that’s nice