[Jane and Michael have just told Bert that the run on the bank is their fault.]
Bert:
Let's sit down. You know, begging you pardon, but the one who my heart goes out for is your father. There he is in that cold, heartless bank day after day, hemmed in by mounds of cold, heartless money. I don't like to see any living thing caged up.
Jane:
Father? In a cage?
Bert:
They makes cages in all sizes and shapes, you know. Bank-shaped some of 'em, carpets and all.
Jane:
But Father isn't in trouble, we are.
Bert:
Oh, sure about that, are you? Look at it this way. You've got your mother to look after you. And Mary Poppins and Constable Jones and me. Who looks after your father? Tell me that. When something terrible happens, what does he do? Fends for himself, he does. Who does he tell about it? No one! Don't blab his troubles at home. He just pushes on at his job, uncomplaining and alone and silent.
Michael:
He's not very silent.
Jane:
Michael, be quiet. And Bert, do you think father really needs our help?
Bert:
Well, Jane, it's not my place to say. [the three of them stand up] I only observe that a father can always do it with a bit of help. Come on, I'll take you home.
