I feel bad that I haven't updated in so long. It's not because I haven't had plenty of time, I think I was just procrastinating. But I always try to get back on track, and so here I am again. I promise the next chapter will come out much faster! And it shall be the last one, too!

CHAPTER EIGHT:

STEPPING TIME

"Isn't it bootiful, Mary?" said Bert, pulling the young lady onto the top of a roof.

"Why, Bert, yes it is." In fact, Mary was stunned. It was just before sundown and her chimney sweep brother had taken her to his world. His new world... the one Mary had given him.

Mary took a step back, in an attempt to breathe in the atmosphere... Unfortunately, she nearly toppled over to the ground, but her sibling's friendly hand saved.

"Oh! Oh! Thank you, Bert!" she exclaimed, trying to get her breath back.

"You know, Mary, anyone looking at you would have no idea you were so clumsy," her brother said.

"Bert- what a charmer you are!" Mary exclaimed. She looked down. "But you're right you know. I could never be a lady with these two left feet. Thank God I've stopped trying!" Mary laughed.

Bert studied his sister's face. A beautiful girl, she was. And she would never learn to acknowledge it.

"Here, Bert," she suddenly interjected, grabbing a crumpled piece of notebook paper from her coat. "It's for you. You've told me so many stories about up here. It's been stuck in my head. I hope you like, Bert."

The sweep took the poem, and began to read it. It went,

Chim chiminey

Chim chiminey

Chim chim cher-ee!

A sweep is as lucky

As lucky can be

Chim chiminey

Chim chiminey

Chim chim cher-oo!

Good luck will rub off when

He shakes hands with you

Now as the ladder of life

Has been strung

You may think a sweep's

On the bottommost rung

Though he spends his time

In the ashes and soot

In this whole wide world

There's no happier bloke

Up where the smoke is

All billowed and curled

Between pavement and stars

Is the chimney sweep world

When there's hardly no day

And hardly no night

There are things half in shadow

And half way in light

On the roof tops of London

Oh, what a sight!

He chooses his bristles with pride

Yes, he does

A broom for the shaft

And a broom for the flume

Though he's covered with soot

From his head to his toes

A sweep knows he's welcome

Wherever he goes

Chim chiminey

Chim chiminey

Chim chim cher-ee!

When you're with a sweep

You're in glad company

No where is there

A happier crew

Than those who sing

"Chim chim cher-ee

Chim cher-oo!"

"What a true gift you have, Mary," he complimented her. "Really splendid."

"It's a thank-you, Bert," she said. "I always thought we were close, and we were... but now... we're so much closer."

"Oh, Mary Poppins!" he shouted. "What have I got to do with that? You've been the one to take care of me, the one who's stalled herself, just to help another!"
"Bert, stop," Mary took her gloved hand to his mouth. "Just take the accolade."
"Why can't you take mine?"

Mary was silent. Why would anyone really want to compliment her? She was nothing, really. Nothing at all.

SLAM!

"Heavens! What was that?" asked Mary. It couldn't be Uncle Albert. He had already gone to bed.

Mary and Bert rushed down the stairs to the backdoor, to walk into the apartment. There waiting at the entrance was Mrs. Poppins, the old witch herself.

"Mother!" said Mary.

"Oh, my darling!" cried the tall woman, taking her arms out to embrace the girl. "How I've missed you! I'm really sorry, dear!"

"But it's been months...? What are you doing here- I don't want you back!"

Mrs. Poppins looked genuinely hurt, placing her long-finger nailed hand over her heart. She seemed rather well-dressed.

"Well, tell us what you're doing here!" demanded Mary.

"To ask of your forgiveness, dear...," her eyes moved off to the side, "and to rescue you from this..."

Mary was surprised. Her mother wanted to take her back. She had indeed begun to miss her, and her training as a witch had gone nowhere. Maybe... if her mother accepted her now, they could start anew, and better.

"Why, look Mary," she continued, "at the riff-raff by your side right now." Her mother was of course speaking of Albert or, Bert now. And he had yet to utter a word. Until now.

"Mother, it's me... Albert."

Mrs. Poppins seemed to laugh at the absurdity. "That's impossible. I've no son. I've but a daughter, one whom I'm planning to take to a ball tonight."

"A ball?" Mary was shocked. She had forgotten all about the silly little dance, and enticed her not at all. "I can't go Mother. I thank you for coming... but I'm sorry. No."
"No?" Mrs. Poppins didn't look like she was going to quit. But Mary was determined to hold firm. But then she did it. She reached into her carpet bag and pulled out a beautiful white box, tied with a big pink bow. Mary's eyes became the size of saucers.

"It's the dress, isn't it? That lovely dress!" Mary, in excitement, grabbed for it, rushing past Bert. She was going to look pretty, very pretty tonight at the ball.

"Oh good, dear, I'm so glad you're excited now! Now, put it on, and then we'll take a ride in the carriage to Catherine's Hall, where the dance is being held. Spit-spot, now dear!"

Without a second thought, Mary went into her tiny bedroom provided by Uncle Albert, and rushed the dress on. What a lady she appeared! Very thin, very svelte! Her head looked a little obtuse, but she could forgive that, for the beauty of the garment.

She struggled to get down the stairs in the slip of a dress, but managed it, to wild applause from her mother. "Now come dear," she said. "We're already a bit too late."

Mary Poppins would have ran out that door, had she deemed it lady-like, but she took her time. She told Bert, "Please, tell Uncle Albert when he awakes of where I am. I don't want him to worry."
Bert looked a tad sick. Mary wondered why. But he said, "Yes, sister, of course. Have a good time."

First, Mary walked out, and then Mrs. Poppins who exited in a very pompous manner. Mary didn't notice. Her head was too far into the clouds for her to care. Tonight, she was going to be gorgeous, the belle of the ball, even!

For once, Mary was going to do something for herself.