Мэри Поппинс
The Day Out
"Now,there’soneyou’veneverseenbefore!"saidtheMatch-Manproudly,pointingtoapaintingofamountaincoveredwithsnowanditsslopessimplylitteredwithgrasshopperssittingongiganticroses.
ThistimeMaryPoppinscouldindulgeinasighwithouthurtinghisfeelings.
"Oh,Bert,"shesaid,"that’safairtreat!"AndbythewayshesaiditshemadehimfeelthatbyrightsthepictureshouldhavebeenintheRoyalAcademy,whichisalargeroomwherepeoplehangthepicturestheyhavepainted.Everybodycomestoseethem,andwhentheyhavelookedatthemforaverylongtime,everybodysaystoeverybodyelse:"Theidea—mydear!"
ThenextpictureMaryPoppinsandtheMatch-Mancametowasevenbetter.Itwasthecountry—alltreesandgrassandalittlebitofblueseainthedistance,andsomethingthatlookedlikeMargateinthebackground.
"Myword!"saidMaryPoppinsadmiringly,stoopingsothatshecouldseeitbetter."Why,Bert,whateveristhematter?"
FortheMatch-Manhadcaughtholdofherotherhandnow,andwaslookingveryexcited.
"Mary,"hesaid,"Igotanidea!Arealidea.Whydon’twegothere—rightnow—thisveryday?Bothtogether,intothepicture.Eh,Mary?"Andstillholdingherhandshedrewherrightoutofthestreet,awayfromtheironrailingsandthelamp-posts,intotheverymiddleofthepicture.
