Mary Poppins Opens the Door by P. L. Travers Read Free Book Online Page A

everybody else to worry about them, too. All except the Prime Minister, who was not at all a thinking kind of person but an old man who liked to sit in the sun and do absolutely nothing. But he was careful not to let this be known for fear the King would cut off his head.
    The King lived in a palace made entirely of crystal. In the early days of his reign it had shone so brightly that passers-by would hide their eyes, for fear of being dazzled. But gradually the crystal grew duller and the dust of the seasons covered its brightness. Nobody could be spared to polish it for everyone was far too busy helping the King think his thoughts. At any moment they might be ordered to leave their work and hurry away on the King's business. To China, perhaps, to count the silkworms. Or to find out if the Solomon Islands were ruled by the Queen of Sheba. When they came back with their lists of facts, the King and the courtiers would write them down in large books bound in leather. And if anyone returned without an answer, his head was at once cut off.
    The only person in the palace who had nothing to do was the Queen. All day long she sat on her golden throne, twisting the necklace of blue-and-green flowers that was clasped about her throat. Sometimes she would start up with a cry and pull her ermine robes about her. For the palace, as it grew more and more dirty, became infested with mice. And mice, as anyone will tell you, are the things no Queen can stand.
    "O-o-o-h!" she would say, with a little gasp, as she leapt on the seat of the throne.
    And each time she cried out the King would frown.
    "Silence please!" he would say, in a fractious voice, for the least little noise disturbed his thinking. Then the mice would scatter for a little while and no sound would be heard in the room. Except for the scratching of goose-quill pens as the King and the courtiers added new facts to the ones in the leather books.
    The Queen never gave orders, not even to her Ladies-of-the-Bedchamber. For as likely as not the King would countermand them.
    "Mend the Queen's petticoat?" he would say crossly. "What petticoat? Why waste time talking about petticoats? Take a pen and write out these facts about the Phoenix!"
    What a dreadful state of affairs, you will say! And, indeed, I wouldn't blame you. But you must not think it was always like that. The Queen, sitting lonely upon her throne, would often remind herself of the days when she first had married the King. How tall and handsome he had been, with his strong white neck and ruddy cheeks, and locks of hair folded round his head like the leaves of camellia flowers.
    "Ah!" she would sigh, remembering back. How he had fed her with honey-cakes and fingers of buttered bread from his plate. How his face had been so full of love that her heart would turn over in her breast and force her to look away, for sheer joy.
    But at last there came a fateful evening.
    "Your eyes are brighter than stars," he said, as he glanced from her face to the shining sky. But instead of turning to her again as usual, he continued to gaze upwards.
    "I wonder," he said dreamily, "just how many stars there are! I think I shall count them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven——" And he went on counting till the Queen fell asleep beside him.
    "One thousand, two hundred and forty-nine——" he was saying as she woke up.
    And after that he would not be satisfied till he got the courtiers out of their beds and set them to counting stars. And as no two answers came out alike the King was very angry.
    That was how it all began.
    The next day, the King exclaimed, "Your cheeks, my Darling, are like two roses!"
    And the Queen was very happy till he added, "But why roses? Why not cabbages? Why are cheeks pink and cabbages green? And vice versa? This is a very serious question."
    The third day he told her that her teeth were like pearls. But before she even had time to smile, he went on——
    "And what if they are? Everybody has, after all, a