Mary Poppins

Chim chiminy chim chiminy Chim chim cheree

A sweep is as lucky as lucky can be

Chim chiminy chim chiminy Chim chim cheroo

Good luck will rub off when he shakes hands with you

Chim chiminy chim chim cheree Chim cheroo

All right, ladies and gents.

Comical poems suitable for the occasion,

extemporised and thought up before your very eyes.

All right, here we go.

Room here for everyone Gather around

The constable's responstable.

Now, how does that sound?

Hmm...

Hello, Miss Lark I got one for you

Miss Lark likes to walk in the park...

- Grrrr. - ...with Andrew!

Arf! Arf!

- Hello, Andrew. - Arf! Arf! Grrrr! Grrrr!

Ah, Mrs Cory

A story for you

Your daughters were shorter than you,

but they grew.

Dear Miss Persimmon...

Yes?

Wind's in the east

Mist comin' in

Like something is brewin'

About to begin

Can't put me finger on what lies in store

But I feel what's to happen

All happened before

Arf! Arf! Grrrr!

I'm sorry. Where was I?

Thank you, one and all, for your kind support.

Ah, Miss Lark, thank you.

Crikey.

Bless you, guv.

Generosity itself, that's what you are.

No charge.

Oh, it's you. Hello.

Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane, you say?

All right. Come with me.

This here's Cherry Tree Lane.

Nice little spot, you might say.

Number 17 is just down a bit.

Now this imposing edifice what first greets the eye

is the home of Admiral Boom,

late of His Majesty's navy.

Likes his house shipshape and Bristol fashion at all times.

- Time gun ready? - Ready and charged, sir.

- Three minutes and six seconds. - Aye, aye, sir.

What he's famous for is punctuality.

The whole world takes its time from Greenwich,

but Greenwich takes its time from Admiral Boom.

What cheer, Admiral?

Good afternoon! Where are you bound?

Some parties want to see number 17.

- Enter that in the log. - Aye, aye, sir.

Some advice, young man.

Storm signals are up at 17.

Heavy weather brewing there.

Thank you, sir. I'll keep an eye skinned.

Here we are.

Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane, residence of George Banks, esquire.

Hello, hello, hello. The admiral's right.

Heavy weather brewing at number 17, and no mistake.

Leave her alone!

Don't you be trying to stop the wretched creature!

Let her go and good riddance.

I never liked her from the moment she set foot in the door.

But who'll get stuck with the children? Me, that's who!

Her and her high and mighty ways.

And that face of her that would stop a coal barge, it would.

Indeed, Mrs Brill!

I wouldn't stay in this house another minute

for all the jewels in Christendom.

No, Katie Nanna, don't go!

Stand away from that door!

What'll I tell the master about the children?

It's no concern of mine.

Those beasts ran away from me.

They must be somewhere. Did you look around the zoo?

You think the lion got them?

They're fond of hanging around the cage.

I've said my say.

I've done with this house forever.

Hip, hip, hooray!

Don't stumble on the way out.

No, no, Katie Nanna!

Mrs Banks. She's home.

Our daughter's daughters will adore us

And we'll sing in grateful chorus "Well done, Sister Suffragette"

Good evening, Katie Nanna and Ellen.

The meeting was glorious!

Mrs Whitbourne-Allen chained herself to the prime minister's carriage.

You should have been there!

And Mrs Ainslie was carried off to prison.

Singing and scattering pamphlets all the way!

Madam, I've always given my best...

Thank you, Katie Nanna.

I knew you were one of us.

We're clearly soldiers in petticoats

And dauntless crusaders for women's votes

Though we adore men individually

We agree that as a group they're rather stupid

Mrs Banks...

Cast off the shackles of yesterday

Shoulder to shoulder into the fray

Our daughter's daughters will adore us

And they'll sing in grateful chorus

"Well done, Sister Suffragette"

I don't wish to offend, but...

From Kensington to Billingsgate One hears the restless cries

From every corner of the land Womankind, arise

Political equality and equal rights with men

Take heart, for Mrs Pankhurst has been clapped in irons again

No more the meek and mild subservients we

We're fighting for our rights militantly

Never you fear

If I may have a word...

So cast off the shackles of yesterday

Shoulder to shoulder into the fray

Our daughter's daughters will adore us

And they'll sing in grateful chorus

"Well done"

Mrs Banks!

"Well done"

Mrs Banks!

What is it, Katie Nanna?

I have something to say to you.

Where are the children?

The children, to be precise, are not here.

They've disappeared again.

That's really careless of you.

That's the third time this week.

The fourth, madam.

I've had my fill.

I'm not one to speak ill of the children.

When do you expect them home?

I couldn't say. If you'd compute my wages...

Oh, gracious! You're not leaving?

What will Mr Banks say?

He'll be cross when he finds the children missing.

Put these away. The cause infuriates Mr Banks.

I beseech you, please reconsider.

Think of the children.

Think of Mr Banks. He was just getting used to you.

Posts, everyone!

4, 3, 2, 1...

Fire!

- I do beseech you... - My wages, if you please.

Bit early tonight, Admiral?

Nonsense. Bang on the dot, as usual.

How's the world of finance?

Never better.

Money's sound, credit rates are moving up,

- and the pound is admired everywhere. - Good.

How about you?

Bit chancy, I'd say.

The Wind's up. The glass is falling.

- Don't like it. - Good. Good, good.

Banks, you're steering into a nasty piece of weather.

Banks!

Do you hear me?

Hello, Katie Nanna. That must be heavy. Allow me.

Hmph!

What a very pretty hat.

I feel a surge of deep satisfaction

Much as a king astride his noble steed

Thank you.

When I return from daily strife to hearth and wife

How pleasant is the life I lead

- Dear, the children... - Yes, yes, yes.

I run my home precisely on schedule

At 6:01, I march through my door

My slippers, sherry, and pipe are due at 6:02

Consistent is the life I lead

George, they're missing.

Splendid, splendid.

It's grand to be an Englishman in 1910

King Edward's on the throne It's the age of men

I'm the lord of my castle The sovereign, the liege

I treat my subjects servants, children, wife

With a firm, but gentle hand Noblesse oblige

It's 6:03, and the heirs to my dominion are scrubbed and tubbed

And adequately fed

And so I'll pat them on the head and send them off to bed

Ah, lordly is the life I lead

Winifred, where are the children?

They're not here, dear.

Of course they're here. Where else would they be?

- I don't know. - You don't know?

They're missing. Katie Nanna has looked everywhere.

Very well. I'll deal with this at once.

The police station. Quickly, please.

We needn't bother the police. The fact is...

Facts cloud the issue.

One fact alone is clear. Katie Nanna's faltered.

She's disappointed us. I shall bring her to book...

Oh.