More about Mary Poppins / И снова о Мэри Поппинз

Next she unpacked a large cake of Sunlight Soap*, a toothbrush, a packet of hairpins, a bottle of scent, a small folding armchair and a box of throat lozenges*.

Jane and Michael stared.

“But I saw,” whispered Michael. “It was empty.”

“Hush!” said Jane, as Mary Poppins took out a large bottle labelled “One Tea-Spoon to be Taken at Bed-Time.”

A spoon was attached to the neck of the bottle, and into this Mary Poppins poured a dark crimson fluid.

“Is that your medicine?” enquired Michael, looking very interested.

“No, yours,” said Mary Poppins, holding out the spoon to him. Michael stared. He wrinkled up his nose. He began to protest.

“I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I won’t!”

But Mary Poppins’s eyes were fixed upon him, and Michael suddenly discovered that you could not look at Mary Poppins and disobey her. There was something strange and extraordinary about her – something that was frightening and at the same time most exciting.

The spoon came nearer. He held his breath, shut his eyes and gulped. A delicious taste ran round his mouth. He turned his tongue in it. He swallowed, and a happy smile ran round his face.

“Strawberry ice,” he said ecstatically. “More, more, more!”

But Mary Poppins, her face as stern as before, was pouring out a dose for Jane. It ran into the spoon, silvery, greeny, yellowy. Jane tasted it.

“Lime-juice cordial,*” she said, sliding her tongue deliciously over her lips.

But when she saw Mary Poppins moving towards the Twins with the bottle Jane rushed at her.

“Oh, no – please. They’re too young. It wouldn’t be good for them. Please!”

Mary Poppins, however, took no notice, but with a warning, terrible glance at Jane, tipped the spoon towards John’s mouth. He lapped at it eagerly, and by the few drops that were spilt on his bib, Jane and Michael could tell that the substance in the spoon this time was milk. Then Barbara had her share, and she gurgled and licked the spoon twice.

Mary Poppins then poured out another dose and solemnly took it herself.

“Rum punch,*” she said, smacking her lips and corking the bottle.

Jane’s eyes and Michael’s popped with astonishment, but they were not given much time to wonder, for Mary Poppins, having put the miraculous bottle on the mantelpiece, turned to them.

“Now,” she said, “spit-spot* into bed.” And she began to undress them.