Free Mary Poppins Opens the Door by P. L. Travers Page B

handkerchief and picked up the black top hat.
    "Well, now that you've finished," the Boy said calmly, "you can give the book to me!"
    The Elderly Gentleman drew back, clutching the book to his breast.
    "Oh, I couldn't do that, I'm afraid," he said. "You see, I've only just bought it. I wanted to read it when I was young, but the grown-ups always got it first. And now that I've got a copy of my own, I really feel I must keep it."
    He eyed the statue uneasily as though he feared that at any moment it might snatch the book away.
    "
I
could tell you about the Elephant's Child—" Jane murmured shyly to the Boy.
    He wheeled around with the fish in his arms.
    "Oh, Jane—would you really?" he cried in surprise. His marble face gleamed with pleasure.
    "And I'll tell you
Yellow Dog Dingo,
" said Michael, "and
The Butterfly That Stamped.
"
    "No!" said the Elderly Gentleman suddenly. "Here am I with a suit of clothes and a hat. And he's quite naked. I'll
give
him the book! I suppose," he added, with a gloomy sigh, "I was never meant to have it."
    He gave the book a last long look, and, thrusting it at the Marble Boy, he turned away quickly. But the Dolphin wriggled and caught his eye and he turned to the Boy again.
    "By the way," he said, curiously, "I wonder how you caught that Porpoise? What did you use—a line or a net?"
    "Neither," replied the Boy, with a smile. "He was given to me when I was born."
    "Oh—I see." The Elderly Gentleman nodded, though he still looked rather puzzled. "Well—I must be getting along. Good-day!" He lifted the black top-hat politely and hurried off down the path.
    "Thank you!" the Marble Boy shouted after him, as he eagerly opened the book. On the fly-leaf was written, in spidery writing, "
William Weatherall Wilkins.
"
    "I'll cross out his name and put mine instead." The Boy smiled gaily at Jane and Michael.
    "But what is your name? And how can you read?" cried Michael, very astonished.
    "My name is Neleus," the Boy said laughing. "And I read with my eyes, of course!"
    "But you're only a statue!" Jane protested. "And statues don't usually walk and talk. However did you get down?"
    "I jumped," replied Neleus, smiling again, as he tossed his marble curls. "I was so disappointed not to finish that story, that something happened to my feet. First they twitched, and then they jumped and the next thing I knew I was down on the grass!" He curled his little marble toes and stamped on the earth with his marble feet. "Oh, lucky, lucky human beings to be able to do this every day! I've watched you so often, Jane and Michael, and wished I could come and play with you. And now at last my wish has come true. Oh, tell me you're glad to see me!"

    He touched their cheeks with his marble fingers and crowed with joy as he danced around them. Then before they could utter a word of welcome he sped like a hare to the edge of the Lake and dabbled his hand in the water.
    "So—this is what water feels like!" he cried. "So deep and so blue—and as light as air!" He leaned out over the sparkling Lake and the Dolphin gave a flick of its tail and slipped from his arms with a splash.
    "Catch him! He'll sink!" cried Michael quickly.
    But the Dolphin did nothing of the kind. It swam round the Lake and threshed the water; it dived and caught its tail in its mouth and leapt in the air and dived again. The performance was just like a turn in the circus. And as it sprang, dripping, to the arms of its master, the children could not help clapping.
    "Was it good?" asked Neleus enviously. And the Dolphin grinned and nodded.
    "Good!" cried a well-known voice behind them. "I call it extremely naughty!"
    Mary Poppins was standing at the edge of the Lake and her eyes were as bright as her darning needle. Neleus sprang to his feet with a little cry and hung his head before her. He looked very young and small and shy as he waited for her to speak.
    "Who said you might get down, may I ask?" Her face had its usual look of fury.
    He shook his head