All good things come to an end, sometime,” said Mary Poppins primly. - P. L. Travers

And when, at last, .... I stood in London with ten pounds in my hand - five of which I promptly lost - the ancestors dwelling in my blood who, all my life, had summoned me with insistent eldritch voices, murmured together, like contented cats.

This was the only place in the Park that was never mown or weeded. Clover, daisies, buttercups, bluebells, grew as high as the children's waists. Nettles and dandelions flaunted their blossoms, for they knew very well that the Park Keeper would never have time to root them out. None of them observed the rules. They scattered their seeds across the lawns, hustled each other for the best places, and crowded together so closely that their stems were always in shadowy darkness.

Some people,” remarked Mary Poppins, putting her down, “think a great deal too much. Of that I am sure.