"Yes?" said Jane, breathlessly, for she wanted to know more.
The Sleeping Beauty gave a charming yawn and smiled upon the children.
"And inside the Crack all things are as one. The eternal opposites meet and kiss. The wolf and the lamb lie down together, the dove and the serpent share one nest. The stars bend down and touch the earth and the young and the old forgive each other. Night and day meet here, so do the poles. The East leans over towards the West and the circle is complete. This is the time and place, my darlings—the
only
time and the
only
place—where everybody lives happily ever after. Look!"
The Sleeping Beauty waved her hand.
Jane and Michael, glancing past it, saw three Bears hopping clumsily round a little bright-haired girl.
"Goldilocks," explained the Sleeping Beauty. "As safe and sound as you are. Oh, good-evening, Punch! How's the baby, Judy?"
She waved to a pair of long-nosed puppets who were strolling arm in arm. "They're a loving couple tonight, you see, because they're inside the Crack. Oh, look!"
This time she pointed to a towering figure. His great feet stamped upon the lawn and his head was as high as the tallest tree. A huge club was balanced on one shoulder; and perched on the other sat a laughing boy who was tweaking the big man's ear.
"That's Jack-the-Giant-Killer with his Giant. The two are bosom friends tonight." The Sleeping Beauty glanced up, smiling. "And here, at last, come the Witches!"
There was a whirr above the children's heads as a group of beady-eyed old women swooped through the air on broomsticks. A cry of welcome rose to greet them as they plunged into the crowd. Everyone rushed to shake their hands and the old women cackled with witch-like laughter.
"Nobody's frightened of them tonight. They're happy ever after!" The Sleeping Beauty's drowsy voice was like a lullaby. She stretched her arms about the children and the three stood watching the thronging figures. A Hare and a Tortoise danced by together, the Queen and the Knave of Hearts embraced, and Beauty gave her hand to the Beast. The lawns bent under the tripping feet and the air was dizzy with nodding heads as Kings and Princesses, Heroes and Witches saluted each other in the Crack between the years.
"Gangway! Gangway! Let me pass!" cried a high, clear voice.
And far away at the end of the lawn they saw the Golden Pig. He plunged through the crowd on his stiff hind legs, dividing it to left and right with a wave of his golden trotter.
Jack-the-Giant-Killer with his Giant
"Make way! Make way!" he shouted importantly. And the crowd parted and drew aside so that it formed a double row of bowing, curtsying creatures.
For now there appeared, at the heels of the Pig, a figure that was curiously familiar. A hat with a bow was upon its head and its coat shone brightly with silver buttons. Its eyes were as blue as Willow-Pattern and its nose turned up in an airy way like the nose of a Dutch Doll.
Lightly she tripped along the path, with the Golden Pig prancing neatly before her. And as she came a cry of greeting rose up from every throat. Hats and caps and crowns and coronets were tossed into the air. And the moon itself seemed to shine more brightly as she walked beneath its rays.
"But why is
she
here?" demanded Jane, as she watched that shape come down the clearing. "Mary Poppins is not a fairy-tale."
"She's even better!" said Alfred loyally. "She's a fairy-tale come true. Besides," he rumbled, "she's the Guest of the Evening! It was she who left the books open."
Amid the happy shouts of welcome, Mary Poppins bowed to right and left. Then she marched to the centre of the lawn and, opening her black hand-bag, she took out a concertina.
"Choose your partners!" cried the Golden Pig, as he drew a flute from a pocket in his skin and put it to his mouth.
At that command, every creature there turned swiftly to his neighbour. Then the flute broke into a swinging tune; the concertina and the Four-and-Twenty Blackbirds took up the gay refrain; and a white Cat played the chorus sweetly on a hey-diddle Fiddle.
"Can it be
my
cat?" Michael wondered, as he looked for the pattern of flowers and leaves. He had no time to decide, however, for his attention was attracted by Alfred.
The grey-flannel Elephant lumbered past, uttering happy jungle cries and using his trunk as a trumpet.
"May I have the Pleasure, my dear young Lady?" He bowed to the Sleeping Beauty. She gave him her hand and they danced away, Alfred taking care not to tread on her toes and the Sleeping Beauty yawning daintily and looking very dreamy.
Everyone seemed to be choosing a partner or finding a friend in the throng.
"Kiss
me!
Kiss
me!
" cried a group of girls, as they twined their arms round a large fat schoolboy.
"Out of my way, young Georgie Porgie!" cried the Farmer's Wife, dancing with Three Blind Mice.
"
Choose your partners!" cried the Golden Pig
And the fat boy plunged off into the crowd with the girls all laughing about him.
"One and two and hop and turn—that's the way it goes." Red Riding Hood, holding the Wolf by the paw, was teaching him how to dance. The Wolf, looking very humble and shy, was watching his feet as she counted.
Jane and Michael could hardly believe their eyes. But before they had time to think about it, a friendly voice hailed them.
"Do you dance?" said Robinson Crusoe gaily, as he took Jane's hand and whirled her away. She swung around, pressed to his goatskin coat, as Michael pranced off in the arms of Man Friday.
"Who is that?" asked Jane as they danced along. For there was the Blue Duck waddling past, clasped to the bosom of a large grey bird.
"That's Goosey Gander!" said Robinson Crusoe. "And there is Pinnie—with Cinderella."
She glanced round quickly. And there, sure enough, was old rag Pinnie, looking very important and proud of himself as he danced with a beautiful Lady.
Everybody had a partner. No one was lonely or left out. All the fairy-tales ever told were gathered together on that square of grass, embracing each other with joy.
"Are you happy, Jane?" Michael called to her, as he and Friday went galloping past.
"For ever and ever!" she answered smiling, and for that moment knew it was true.
The music was swifter now and wilder. It tossed among the tossing trees, it echoed above the strokes of the clock. Mary Poppins, the Pig and the Fiddling Cat were bending and swaying as they played. Again and again the Blackbirds sang and never seemed to grow weary. The fairy-tale figures swung about the children; and in their ears the fairy-tale voices were sweetly singing and laughing.
"Happy ever after!" came the echoing cry, from everyone in the Park.
"What was that?" cried Jane to her partner. For behind the shouting and the music, she had heard the boom of the clock.
"Time's nearly up!" said Robinson Crusoe. "That must have been the Sixth Stroke!"
They paused for a moment in their dance and listened to the clock.
Seven! Above the sound rose the fairy-tale music, rocking them all in its golden net.
Eight! said the steady, distant boom. And the dancing feet seemed to move more swiftly.
Nine! The trees themselves were dancing now, bending their boughs to the fairy tune.
Ten! O Lion and Unicorn, Wolf and Lamb! Friend and Enemy! Dark and Light!
Eleven! O fleeting moment! O time on the wing! How short is the space between the years! Let us be happy—happy ever after!
Twelve!
Solemn and deep the last stroke struck.
"Twelve!" The cry went up from every throat and the ring immediately broke and scattered. Bright shapes brushed swiftly past the children, Jack and his Giant, Punch and Judy. Away sped the Spider with Miss Muffett; and Humpty-Dumpty on his spindly legs. The Lion, the Unicorn, Goldilocks, Red Riding Hood and Three Blind Mice—they streamed away across the grass and seemed to melt in the moonshine.
Cinderella and the Witches vanished. The Sleeping Beauty and the Cat with the Fiddle fled, and were lost in light. And Jane and Michael, looking round for their partners, found that Robinson Crusoe and his Man Friday had dissolved into the air.
The fairy-tale music died away, it was lost in the lordly peal of bells. For now from every tower and steeple the chimes rang out, triumphant. Big Ben, St. Paul's, St. Bride's, Old Bailey, Southwark, St. Martin's, Westminster, Bow.
But one bell sounded above the others, merry and clear and insistent.
Ting-aling-aling-aling! It was different, somehow, from the New Year bells, familiar and friendly and nearer home.
Ting-aling-aling! it cried. And mixed with its echoes was a well-known voice.
"Who wants crumpets?" the voice said loudly, demanding immediate answer.
Jane and Michael opened their eyes. They sat up and stared about them. They were in their beds, under the eiderdowns, and John and Barbara were asleep beside them. The fire glowed gaily in the grate. The morning light streamed through the Nursery window. Ting-aling! From somewhere down below in the Lane came the sound of the tinkling bell.