Mary Poppins: The Original Story. P. Travers L.

round the room, “you’d be wanting some more hot—Well, I never! I simply never!” she said, as she caught sight of them all seated on the air round the table. “Such goings on I never did see! In all my born days I never saw such. I’m sure, Mr Wigg, I always knew you were a bit odd. But I’ve closed my eyes to it – being as how you paid your rent regular. But such behaviour as this – having tea in the air with your guests – Mr Wigg, sir, I’m astonished at you! It’s that undignified, and for a gentleman of your age – I never did—”

      “But perhaps you will, Miss Persimmon!” said Michael.

      “Will what?” said Miss Persimmon haughtily.

      “Catch the Laughing Gas, as we did,” said Michael.

      Miss Persimmon flung back her head scornfully.

      “I hope, young man,” she retorted, “I have more respect for myself than to go bouncing about in the air like a rubber ball on the end of a bat. I’ll stay on my own feet, thank you, or my name’s not Amy Persimmon, and – oh dear, oh dear, my goodness, oh DEAR – what is the matter? I can’t walk, I’m going, I – oh, help, HELP!”

      For Miss Persimmon, quite against her will, was off the ground and was stumbling through the air, rolling from side to side like a very thin barrel, balancing the tray in her hand. She was almost weeping with distress as she arrived at the table and put down her jug of hot water.

      “Thank you,” said Mary Poppins in a calm, very polite voice.

      Then Miss Persimmon turned and went wafting down again, murmuring as she went: “So undignified – and me a well-behaved, steady-going woman. I must see a doctor—”

      When she touched the floor she ran hurriedly out of the room, wringing her hands, and not giving a single glance backwards.

      “So undignified!” they heard her moaning as she shut the door behind her.

      “Her name can’t be Amy Persimmon, because she didn’t stay on her own feet!” whispered Jane to Michael.

      But Mr Wigg was looking at Mary Poppins – a curious look, half-amused, half-accusing.

      “Mary, Mary, you shouldn’t – bless my soul, you shouldn’t, Mary. The poor old body will never get over it. But, oh, my goodness, didn’t she look funny waddling through the air – my Gracious goodness, but didn’t she?”

      And he and Jane and Michael were off again, rolling about the air, clutching their sides and gasping with laughter at the thought of how funny Miss Persimmon had looked.

      “Oh dear!” said Michael. “Don’t make me laugh any more. I can’t stand it. I shall break!”

      “Oh, oh, oh!” cried Jane, as she gasped for breath, with her hand over her heart.

      “Oh, my Gracious, Glorious, Galumphing Goodness!” roared Mr Wigg, dabbing his eyes with his coat-tail because he couldn’t find his handkerchief.

      “IT IS TIME TO GO HOME.” Mary Poppins’ voice sounded above the roars of laughter like a trumpet.

      And suddenly, with a rush, Jane and Michael and Mr Wigg came down. They landed on the floor with a huge bump, all together. The thought that they would have to go home was the first sad thought of the afternoon, and the moment it was in their minds the Laughing Gas went out of them.

      Jane and Michael sighed as they watched Mary Poppins come slowly down the air, carrying Jane’s coat and hat.

      Mr Wigg sighed, too. A great, long, heavy sigh.

      “Well, isn’t that a pity?” he said soberly. “It’s very sad that you’ve got to go home. I never enjoyed an afternoon so much – did you?”

      “Never,” said Michael sadly, feeling how dull it was to be down on the earth again with no Laughing Gas inside him.