Мэри Поппинс
Bad Tuesday
OnthestairshemetEllen,thehousemaid,andashepassedherheknockedthehot-waterjugoutofherhand.
"Well,youareaclumsy,"saidEllen,asshebentdowntomopupthewater."Thatwasforyourfather’sshaving."
"Imeantto,"saidMichaelcalmly.
Ellen’sredfacewentquitewhitewithsurprise.
"Meantto?Youmeant—well,then,you’reaverybadheathenboy,andI’lltellyourMa,soIwill—"
"Do,"saidMichael,andhewentondownthestairs.
Well,thatwasthebeginningofit.Throughouttherestofthedaynothingwentrightwithhim.Thehot,heavyfeelinginsidehimmadehimdothemostawfulthings,andassoonashe’ddonethemhefeltextraordinarilypleasedandgladandthoughtoutsomemoreatonce.
InthekitchenMrs.Brill,thecook,wasmakingscones.
"No,MasterMichael,"shesaid,"youcan’tscrapeoutthebasin.It’snotemptyyet."
AndatthatheletouthisfootandkickedMrs.Brillveryhardontheshin,sothatshedroppedtherolling-pinandscreamedaloud.
"YoukickedMrs.Brill?KindMrs.Brill?I’mashamedofyou,"saidhisMotherafewminuteslaterwhenMrs.Brillhadtoldherthewholestory."Youmustbegherpardonatonce.Sayyou’resorry,Michael!"
"ButI’mnotsorry.I’mglad.Herlegsaretoofat,"hesaid,andbeforetheycouldcatchhimheranawayuptheareastepsandintothegarden.TherehepurposelybumpedintoRobertsonAy,whowassoundasleepontopofoneofthebestrockplants,andRobertsonAywasveryangry.
"I’lltellyourPa!"hesaidthreateningly.
