Mary Poppins in the Park. P. Travers L.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ – that’s what ’e is. Always staring and moping. And ’alf the time ’e forgets the lights. I’ve known them to stay red for a whole morning. If it’s goin’ to be like that today, I’ll never get me dinner. You ’aven’t got a sangwidge on you?” He looked at Michael hopefully. “No? Nor yet a chocolate drop?” Jane smiled and shook her head.

      The Taxi Man sighed despondently.

      “Nobody thinks of nobody these days.”

      “I’m thinking of someone!” said Mary Poppins. And she looked so stern and disapproving that he turned away in dismay.

      “They’re green!” he cried, as he looked at the lights. And, huddling nervously over the wheel, he drove along Park Avenue as though pursued by wolves.

      Bump! Bump! Rattle! Rattle! The three of them jolted and bounced on their seats.

      “Sit up straight!” said Mary Poppins, sliding into a corner. “You are not a couple of Jack-in-the-boxes!”

      “I know I’m not,” said Michael, gasping. “But I feel like one and my bones are shaking—” He gulped quickly and bit his tongue and left the sentence unfinished. For the taxi had stopped with a frightful jerk and flung them all to the floor.

      “Mary Poppins,” said Jane in a muffled voice, “I think you’re sitting on me!”

      “My foot! My foot! It’s caught in something!”

      “I’ll thank you, Michael!” said Mary Poppins, “to take it out of my hat!”

      She rose majestically from the floor, and seizing her parrot-headed umbrella sprang out on to the pavement.

      “Well, you said to go faster,” the Taxi Man muttered, as she thrust the fare into his hand. She glared at him in offended silence. And in order to escape that look he shrank himself down inside his collar so that nothing was left but his whiskers.

      “Don’t bother about a tip,” he begged. “It’s really been a p-p-pleasure.”

      “I had no intention of bothering!” She opened the gate of Number Seventeen with an angry flick of her hand.

      The Taxi Man started up his engine and jerked away down the Lane. “She’s upset me, that’s what she’s done!” he murmured. “If I do get home in time for me dinner, I shan’t be able to eat it!”

      Mary Poppins tripped up the path, followed by Jane and Michael.

      Mrs Banks stood in the front hall, looking up at the stairs.

      “Oh, do be careful, Robertson Ay!” she was saying anxiously. He was carrying a cardboard box and lurching slowly from stair to stair as though he were almost asleep.

      “Never a moment’s peace!” he muttered. “First it’s one thing, then another. There!” He gave a sleepy heave, thrust the package into the Nursery and fell in a snoring heap on the landing.

      Jane dashed upstairs to look at the label.

      “What’s in it – a present?” shouted Michael.

      The Twins, bursting with curiosity, were jumping up and down. And Annabel peered through her cot railings and banged her rattle loudly.

      “Is this a Nursery or a Bear-pit?” Mary Poppins stepped over Robertson Ay as she hurried into the room.

      “A Bear-pit!” Michael longed to answer. But he caught her eye and refrained.

      “Really!” Mrs Banks protested, as she stumbled over Robertson Ay. “He chooses such inconvenient places! Oh, gently, children! Do be careful! That box belongs to Miss Andrew!”

      Miss Andrew! Their faces fell.

      “Then it isn’t presents!” said Michael blankly. He gave the box a push.

      “It’s probably full of medicine bottles!” said Jane in a bitter voice.

      “It’s not,” insisted Mrs Banks. “Miss Andrew has sent us all her treasures. And I thought, Mary Poppins –” she glanced at the stiff white shape beside her – “I thought, perhaps, you could keep them here!” She nodded towards the mantelpiece.

      Mary Poppins regarded her in silence. If a pin had fallen you could have heard it.

      “Am I an octopus?” she enquired, finding her voice at last.

      “An octopus?” cried Mrs Banks. Had she ever suggested such a thing? “Of course you’re not, Mary Poppins.”

      “Exactly!” Mary Poppins retorted. “I have only one pair of hands.”

      Mrs Banks nodded uneasily. She had never expected her to have more.

      “And that one pair has enough to do without dusting anyone’s treasures.”

      “But, Mary Poppins, I never dreamed—” Mrs Banks was getting more and more flustered. “Ellen is here to do the dusting. And it’s only until Miss Andrew comes back – if, of course, she ever does. She behaved so strangely when she was here. Why are you giggling, Jane?”

      But Jane only snickered and shook her head. She remembered that strange behaviour.

      “Where has she gone to?” Michael asked.

      “She seems to have had some sort of a shock – what are you laughing at, children? – and the doctor has ordered a long voyage, away to the South Seas. She says …” Mrs Banks fished into her pocket and brought out a crumpled letter.

      “‘And while I am away,’” she read out, “‘I shall leave my valuables with you. Be sure they are put in a safe place where nothing can happen to them. I shall expect, on my return, to find everything exactly as it is – nothing broken, nothing mended. Tell George to wear his overcoat. This weather is changeable.’”

      “So you see, Mary Poppins,” said Mrs Banks, looking up with a flattering smile, “the Nursery does seem the best place. Anything left in your charge is always perfectly safe!”

      “There’s safety and safety!” sniffed Mary Poppins. “And I hope I see further than my nose!” It was tilted upwards, as she spoke, even more than usual.

      “Oh, I am sure you do!” murmured Mrs Banks, wondering, for the hundredth time, why Mary Poppins – no matter what the situation – was always so pleased with herself.

      “Well, now I think I must go and—” But without saying what she was going to do, she ran out of the Nursery, jumped over Robertson Ay’s legs and bustled away down the stairs.

      “Allow me, Michael, if you please!” Mary Poppins seized his wrist, as he pulled the lid off the box. “Remember what curiosity did – it killed the cat, you know!”

      Her quick hands darted among the papers, and briskly unwrapped a little bundle. Out came a chipped nose and a Chelsea china lamb.

      “Funny sort of treasures,” said Michael. “I could mend this bird with a piece of putty. СКАЧАТЬ