sky. They waited, holding their breaths, for the Kite to appear again.
Suddenly Jane could bear it no longer.
"Michael," she cried, "Pull it in! Pull it in!"
She laid her hand upon the tugging, quivering string.
Michael turned the stick and gave a long, strong pull. The string remained taut and steady. He pulled again, puffing and panting.
"I can't," he said. "It won't come."
"I'll help!" said Jane. "Now—pull!"
But, hard as they tugged, the string would not give and the Kite remained hidden behind the cloud.
"Let me!" said the Keeper importantly. "When I was a boy we did it this way."
And he put his hand on the string just above Jane's and gave it a short, sharp jerk. It seemed to give a little.
"Now—all together—pull!" he yelled.
The Keeper tossed off his hat, and, planting their feet firmly on the grass, Jane and Michael pulled with all their might.
"It's coming!" panted Michael.
Suddenly the string slackened and a small whirling shape shot through the grey cloud and came floating down.
"Wind her up!" the Keeper spluttered, glancing at Michael.
But the string was already winding round the stick of its own accord.
Down, down came the Kite, turning over and over in the air, wildly dancing at the end of the jerking string.
Jane gave a little gasp.
"Something's happened!" she cried. "That's not our Kite. It's quite a different one!"
They stared.
It was quite true. The Kite was no longer green-and-yellow. It had turned colour and was now navy-blue. Down it came, tossing and bounding.
Suddenly Michael gave a shout.
On sailed the curious figure, its feet neatly clearing the tops of the trees
"Jane! Jane! It isn't a Kite at all. It looks like—oh, it looks like——"
"Wind, Michael, wind quickly!" gasped Jane. "I can hardly wait!"
For now, above the tallest trees, the shape at the end of the string was clearly visible. There was no sign of the green-and-yellow Kite, but in its place danced a figure that seemed at once strange and familiar, a figure wearing a blue coat with silver buttons and a straw hat trimmed with daisies. Tucked under its arm was an umbrella with a parrot's head for a handle, a brown carpet-bag dangled from one hand while the other held firmly to the end of the shortening string.
"Ah!" Jane gave a shout of triumph. "It
is
she!"
"I knew it!" cried Michael, his hands trembling on the winding-stick.
"Lumme!" said the Park Keeper, blinking. "Lumme!"
On sailed the curious figure, its feet neatly clearing the tops of the trees. They could see the face now and the well-known features—coal black hair, bright blue eyes and nose turned upwards like the nose of a Dutch doll. As the last length of string wound itself round the stick the figure drifted down between the lime trees and alighted primly upon the grass.
In a flash Michael dropped the stick. Away he bounded, with Jane at his heels.
"Mary Poppins, Mary Poppins!" they cried, and flung themselves upon her.
Behind them the Twins were crowing like cocks in the morning and the Park Keeper was opening and shutting his mouth as though he would like to say something but could not find the words.
"At last! At last! At last!" shouted Michael wildly, clutching at her arm, her bag, her umbrella—anything, so long as he might touch her and feel that she was really true.
"We knew you'd come back! We found the letter that said
au revoir!
" cried Jane, flinging her arms round the waist of the blue overcoat.
A satisfied smile flickered for a moment over Mary Poppins' face—up from the mouth, over the turned-up nose, into the blue eyes. But it died away swiftly.
"I'll thank you to remember," she remarked, disengaging herself from their hands, "that this is a Public Park and not a Bear Garden. Such goings on! I might as well be at the Zoo. And where, may I ask, are your gloves?"
They fell back, fumbling in their pockets.
"Humph! Put them on, please!"
Trembling with excitement and delight, Jane and Michael stuffed their hands into the
Suddenly Jane could bear it no longer.
"Michael," she cried, "Pull it in! Pull it in!"
She laid her hand upon the tugging, quivering string.
Michael turned the stick and gave a long, strong pull. The string remained taut and steady. He pulled again, puffing and panting.
"I can't," he said. "It won't come."
"I'll help!" said Jane. "Now—pull!"
But, hard as they tugged, the string would not give and the Kite remained hidden behind the cloud.
"Let me!" said the Keeper importantly. "When I was a boy we did it this way."
And he put his hand on the string just above Jane's and gave it a short, sharp jerk. It seemed to give a little.
"Now—all together—pull!" he yelled.
The Keeper tossed off his hat, and, planting their feet firmly on the grass, Jane and Michael pulled with all their might.
"It's coming!" panted Michael.
Suddenly the string slackened and a small whirling shape shot through the grey cloud and came floating down.
"Wind her up!" the Keeper spluttered, glancing at Michael.
But the string was already winding round the stick of its own accord.
Down, down came the Kite, turning over and over in the air, wildly dancing at the end of the jerking string.
Jane gave a little gasp.
"Something's happened!" she cried. "That's not our Kite. It's quite a different one!"
They stared.
It was quite true. The Kite was no longer green-and-yellow. It had turned colour and was now navy-blue. Down it came, tossing and bounding.
Suddenly Michael gave a shout.
On sailed the curious figure, its feet neatly clearing the tops of the trees
"Jane! Jane! It isn't a Kite at all. It looks like—oh, it looks like——"
"Wind, Michael, wind quickly!" gasped Jane. "I can hardly wait!"
For now, above the tallest trees, the shape at the end of the string was clearly visible. There was no sign of the green-and-yellow Kite, but in its place danced a figure that seemed at once strange and familiar, a figure wearing a blue coat with silver buttons and a straw hat trimmed with daisies. Tucked under its arm was an umbrella with a parrot's head for a handle, a brown carpet-bag dangled from one hand while the other held firmly to the end of the shortening string.
"Ah!" Jane gave a shout of triumph. "It
is
she!"
"I knew it!" cried Michael, his hands trembling on the winding-stick.
"Lumme!" said the Park Keeper, blinking. "Lumme!"
On sailed the curious figure, its feet neatly clearing the tops of the trees. They could see the face now and the well-known features—coal black hair, bright blue eyes and nose turned upwards like the nose of a Dutch doll. As the last length of string wound itself round the stick the figure drifted down between the lime trees and alighted primly upon the grass.
In a flash Michael dropped the stick. Away he bounded, with Jane at his heels.
"Mary Poppins, Mary Poppins!" they cried, and flung themselves upon her.
Behind them the Twins were crowing like cocks in the morning and the Park Keeper was opening and shutting his mouth as though he would like to say something but could not find the words.
"At last! At last! At last!" shouted Michael wildly, clutching at her arm, her bag, her umbrella—anything, so long as he might touch her and feel that she was really true.
"We knew you'd come back! We found the letter that said
au revoir!
" cried Jane, flinging her arms round the waist of the blue overcoat.
A satisfied smile flickered for a moment over Mary Poppins' face—up from the mouth, over the turned-up nose, into the blue eyes. But it died away swiftly.
"I'll thank you to remember," she remarked, disengaging herself from their hands, "that this is a Public Park and not a Bear Garden. Such goings on! I might as well be at the Zoo. And where, may I ask, are your gloves?"
They fell back, fumbling in their pockets.
"Humph! Put them on, please!"
Trembling with excitement and delight, Jane and Michael stuffed their hands into the
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