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Original of this document is at
http://www.hiiumaa.ee/puhhiraamat/part2/pooh2_0.html
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                        DEDICATION

                You gave me Christopher Robin, and then
                You breathed new life in Pooh.
                Whatever of each has left my pen
                Goes homing back to you.
                My book is ready, and comes to greet
                The mother it longs to see --
                It would be my present to you, my sweet,
                If it weren't your gift to me.




    AN Introduction is to  introduce  people,  but  Christopher
Robin and his friends, who have already been introduced to you,
are now going to say Good-bye. So this is the opposite. When we
asked  Pooh  what  the opposite of an Introduction was, he said
"The what of a what?" which didn't help us as much as we had
hoped, but luckily Owl kept his head and told us that the Opposite
of an Introduction, my dear Pooh, was a Contradiction; and, as
he is very good at long words, I am sure that that's what it is.



       Why  we  are having a Contradiction is because last week
when Christopher Robin said to me, "What about that  story  you
were  going  to tell me about what happened to Pooh when----" I
happened to say very quickly, "What about nine times a  hundred
and  seven  ?"  And when we had done that one, we had one about
cows going through a gate at two a minute, and there are  three
hundred  in the field, so how many are left after an hour and a
half?  We  find  these  very  exciting,  and  when we have been
excited quite enough, we curl up and go to  sleep  .  .  .  and
Pooh,  sitting wakeful a little longer on his chair by our pil-
low, thinks Grand Thoughts to himself about Nothing, until  he,
too,  closes his eyes and nods his head, and follows us on tip-
toe into the Forest. There, still, we  have  magic  adventures,
more wonderful than any I have told you about; but now, when we
wake up in the morning, they are gone before we can catch  hold
of  them.  How  did  the last one begin? "One day when Pooh was
walk- ing in the Forest, there were one hundred and seven  cows
on a gate . . ." No, you see, we have lost it. It was the best,
I think. Well, here are some of the other  ones,  all  that  we
shall  remember  now. But, of course, it isn't really Good-bye,
because the Forest will always be there . . . and  anybody  who
is Friendly with Bears can find it.

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    ONE  day  when Pooh Bear had nothing else to do, he thought
he would do something, so he went round to  Piglet's  house  to
see  what  Piglet was doing. It was still snowing as he stumped
over the white forest track, and he  expected  to  find  Piglet
warming  his  toes in front of his fire, but to his surprise he
saw that the door was open, and the more he looked  inside  the
more Piglet wasn't there.
        "He's  out,"  said Pooh sadly. "That's what it is. He's
not in. I shall have to go a  fast  Thinking  Walk  by  myself.
Bother!"
        But  first  he  thought that he would knock very loudly
just to make quite sure . . . and while he  waited  for  Piglet
not  to  answer,  he jumped up and down to keep warm, and a hum
came suddenly into his head, which seemed to him  a  Good  Hum,
such as is Hummed Hopefully to Others.

                  The more it snows
                        (Tiddely pom),
            The more it goes
                        (Tiddely pom),
            The more it goes
                        (Tiddely pom)
                On snowing.
            And nobody knows
                        (Tiddely pom),
            How cold my toes
                        (Tiddely pom),
            How cold my toes
                        (Tiddely pom),
                Are growing.

        "So  what  I'll  do," said Pooh, "is I'll do this. I'll
just go home first and see what the time is, and  perhaps  I'll
put  a  muffler  round my neck, and then I'll go and see Eeyore
and sing it to him."
        He hurried back to his own house; and his mind  was  so
busy  on  the  way  with  the hum that he was getting ready for
Eeyore that, when he suddenly saw Piglet sitting  in  his  best
arm-chair,  he  could  only  stand  there  rubbing his head and
wondering whose house he was in.
        "Hallo, Piglet," he said. "I thought you were out."
        "No," said Piglet, "it's you who were out, Pooh."
        "So it was," said Pooh. "I knew one of us was."
        He looked up at his clock, which had  stopped  at  five
minutes to eleven some weeks ago.
        "Nearly  eleven  o'clock,"  said  Pooh happily. "You're
just in time for a little smackerel of something," and  he  put
his head into the cupboard. "And then we'll go out, Piglet, and
sing my song to Eeyore."
        "Which song, Pooh?"
        "The  one  we're  going  to  sing to Eeyore," explained
Pooh.
        The clock was still saying five minutes to eleven  when
Pooh  and  Piglet  set out on their way half an hour later. The
wind had dropped, and the  snow,  tired  of  rushing  round  in
circles  trying  to  catch itself up, now fluttered gently down
until it found a place on which  to  rest,  and  sometimes  the
place  was Pooh's nose and sometimes it wasn't, and in a little
while Piglet was wearing a white muffler  round  his  neck  and
feeling  more  snowy  behind  the  ears  than  he had ever felt
before.
        "Pooh," he said at last, and a little timidly,  because
he  didn't  want  Pooh  to  think he was Giving In, "I was just
wondering. How would it be if we went home  now  and  practised
your  song,  and  then  sang it to Eeyore to-morrow--or--or the
next day, when we happen to see him?"
        "That's a very good idea, Piglet,"  said  Pooh.  "We'll
practise  it now as we go along. But it's no good going home to
practise it, because it's a special Outdoor Song which  Has  To
Be Sung In The Snow."
        "Are you sure?" asked Piglet anxiously.
        "Well,  you'll  see,  Piglet,  when you listen. Because
this is how it begins. The more it snows, tiddely pom----"
        "Tiddely what?" said Piglet.
        "Pom," said Pooh. "I put that in to make it more hummy.
The more it goes, tiddely pom, the more----"
        "Didn't you say snows?"
        "Yes, but that was before."
        "Before the tiddely pom?"
        "It was a different tiddely pom,"  said  Pooh,  feeling
rather  muddled  now.  "I'll  sing  it to you properly and then
you'll see."
        So he sang it again.

                      The more it
                SNOWS-tiddely-pom,
                The more it
                GOES-tiddely-pom
                The more it
                GOES-tiddely-pom
                On
                Snowing

                      And nobody
                KNOWS-tiddely-pom,
                How cold my
                TOES-tiddely-pom
                How cold my
                TOES-tiddely-pom
                Are
                Growing.

        He sang it like that, which is much  the  best  way  of
singing  it,  and when he had finished, he waited for Piglet to
say that, of all the Outdoor Hums for Snowy Weather he had ever
heard, this was the best. And, after thinking  the  matter  out
carefully, Piglet said:
        "Pooh," he said solemnly, "it isn't the toes so much as
the ears."



        By  this  time  they  were getting near Eeyore's Gloomy
Place, which was where he lived, and as it was still very snowy
behind Piglet's ears, and he was  getting  tired  of  it,  they
turned  into a little pine wood, and sat down on the gate which
led into it. They were out of the snow now,  but  it  was  very
cold,  and  to keep themselves warm they sang Pooh's song right
through six times, Piglet doing the tiddely-poms and Pooh doing
the rest of it, and both of them thumping on  the  top  of  the
gate with pieces of stick at the proper places. And in a little
while they felt much warmer, and were able to talk again.
        "I've  been  thinking,"  said Pooh, "and what I've been
thinking is this. I've been thinking about Eeyore."
        "What about Eeyore?"
        "Well, poor Eeyore has nowhere to live."
        "Nor he has," said Piglet.
        "You have a house, Piglet, and I have a house, and they
are very good houses. And Christopher Robin has  a  house,  and
Owl and Kanga and Rabbit have houses, and even Rabbit's friends
and  relations  have  houses or somethings, but poor Eeyore has
nothing. So what I've been  thinking  is:  Let's  build  him  a
house."
        "That,"  said  Piglet, "is a Grand Idea. Where shall we
build it?"
        "We will build it here," said Pooh, "just by this wood,
out of the wind, because this is where I thought of it. And  we
will  call  this Pooh Corner. And we will build an Eeyore House
with sticks at Pooh Corner for Eeyore."
        "There was a heap of sticks on the other  side  of  the
wood," said Piglet. "I saw them. Lots and lots. All piled up."
        "Thank  you,  Piglet,"  said  Pooh. "What you have just
said will be a Great Help to us, and because of it I could call
this place Poohanpiglet Corner  if  Pooh  Corner  didn't  sound
better,  which  it  does, being smaller and more like a corner.
Come along."
        So they got down off the gate and  went  round  to  the
other side of the wood to fetch the sticks.
        Christopher  Robin  had spent the morning indoors going
to Africa and back, and he had just got off the  boat  and  was
wondering  what  it  was  like  outside,  when  who should come
knocking at the door but Eeyore.
        "Hallo, Eeyore," said Christopher Robin, as  he  opened
the door and came out. "How are you?"
        "It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
        "So it is."
        "And freezing."
        "Is it?"
        "Yes,"  said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up
a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately."
        "What's the matter, Eeyore?"
        "Nothing,  Christopher  Robin.  Nothing  important.   I
suppose you haven't seen a house or what-not anywhere about?"
        "What sort of a house?"
        "Just a house."
        "Who lives there?"
        "I do. At least I thought I did. But I suppose I don't.
After all, we can't all have houses."
        "But, Eeyore, I didn't know--I always thought----"
        "I  don't  know  how it is, Christopher Robin, but what
with all this snow and one thing and another,  not  to  mention
icicles  and such-like, it isn't so Hot in my field about three
o'clock in the morning as some people think  it  is.  It  isn't
Close,  if you know what I mean--not so as to be uncomfortable.
It isn't Stuffy. In fact, Christopher Robin," he went on  in  a
loud whisper, "quite-between-ourselves-and- don't-tell-anybody,
it's Cold."
        "Oh, Eeyore!"
        "And  I said to myself: The others will be sorry if I'm
getting myself all cold. They haven't got Brains, any of  them,
only  grey  fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake, and
they don't Think, but if it goes on  snowing  for  another  six
weeks  or so, one of them will begin to say to himself: 'Eeyore
can't be so very much  too  Hot  about  three  o'clock  in  the
morning.' And then it will Get About. And they'll be Sorry."
        "Oh,  Eeyore!"  said  Christopher  Robin,  feeling very
sorry already.
        "I don't mean you, Christopher Robin. You're different.
So what it all comes to is that I built myself a house down  by
my little wood."
        "Did you really? How exciting!"
        "The  really  exciting  part,"  said Eeyore in his most
melancholy voice, "is that when I left it this morning  it  was
there,  and  when  I  came  back  it  wasn't.  Not at all, very
natural, and it was only  Eeyore's  house.  But  still  I  just
wondered."
        Christopher Robin didn't stop to wonder. He was already
back in his   house,   putting   on  his  waterproof  hat,  his
waterproof boots and his waterproof macintosh  as  fast  as  he
could.
        "We'll  go  and  look for it at once," he called out to
Eeyore.
        "Sometimes,"  said  Eeyore,  "when  people  have  quite
finished  taking  a  person's  house, there are one or two bits
which they don't want and are rather glad  for  the  person  to
take  back,  if  you  know what I mean. So I thought if we just
went "
        "Come  on,"  said  Christopher  Robin,  and  off   they
hurried,  and  in  a very little time they got to the corner of
the field by the side of the pine-wood,  where  Eeyore's  house
wasn't any longer.
        "There!"  said  Eeyore.  "Not  a  stick  of it left! Of
course, I've still got all this snow to do what  I  like  with.
One mustn't complain."
        But  Christopher  Robin  wasn't listening to Eeyore, he
was listening to something else.
        "Can't you hear it?" he asked.
        "What is it? Somebody laughing?"
        "Listen."
        They both listened . . . and they heard  a  deep  gruff
voice  saying  in  a  singing voice that the more it snowed the
more it went on snowing, and a small high voice tiddely-pomming
in between.
        "It's  Pooh,"  said  Christopher  Robin   excitedly....
"Possibly," said Eeyore.
        "And Piglet!" said Christopher Robin excitedly.
        "Probably,"  said  Eeyore.  "What  we want is a Trained
Bloodhound."
        The words of the song changed suddenly.
        "We've finished our HOUSE!" sang the gruff voice.
        "Tiddely pom!" sang the squeaky one.
        "It's a beautiful HOUSE . . ."
        "Tiddely pom . . ."
        "I wish it were MINE . . ,"
        "Tiddely pom . . ."
        "Pooh!" shouted Christopher Robin. . . .
        The singers on the gate stopped suddenly.
        "It's Christopher Robin!" said Pooh eagerly.
        "He's round by the place where we got all those  sticks
from," said Piglet.
        "Come on," said Pooh.
        They  climbed  down  their  gate  and hurried round the
corner of the wood, Pooh making welcoming noises all the way.
        "Why, here is Eeyore," said Pooh, when he had  finished
hugging  Christopher  Robin,  and  he nudged Piglet, and Piglet
nudged him, and  they  thought  to  themselves  what  a  lovely
surprise they had got ready.
        "Hallo, Eeyore."
        "Same  to you, Pooh Bear, and twice on Thursdays," said
Eeyore gloomily.
        Before Pooh could  say:  "Why  Thursdays?"  Christopher
Robin  began  to  explain the sad story of Eeyore's Lost House.
And Pooh and Piglet listened, and  their  eyes  seemed  to  get
bigger and bigger.
        "Where did you say it was?" asked Pooh.
        "Just here," said Eeyore.
        "Made of sticks?"
        "Yes."
        "Oh!" said Piglet.
        "What?" said Eeyore.
        "I just said 'Oh!'" said Piglet nervously. And so as to
seem quite  at  ease  he  hummed Tiddely-pom once or twice in a
what-shall-we-do-now kind of way.
        "You're sure it was  a  house?"  said  Pooh.  "I  mean,
you're sure the house was just here?"
        "Of  course  I  am,"  said  Eeyore.  And he murmured to
himself, "No brain at all, some of them."
        "Why,  what's  the  matter,  Pooh?"  asked  Christopher
Robin.
        "Well,"  said Pooh . . . "The fact is," said Pooh . . .
"Well, the fact is," said Pooh . . . "You see," said Pooh . . .
"It's like this," said Pooh, and something seemed to  tell  him
that  he  wasn't  explaining  very  well,  and he nudged Piglet
again.
        "It's  like  this,"  said  Piglet   quickly....   "Only
warmer," he added after deep thought.
        "What's warmer?"
        "The other side of the wood, where Eeyore's house is."
        "My house?" said Eeyore. "My house was here."
        "No," said Piglet firmly. "The other side of the wood."
        "Because of being warmer," said Pooh.
        "But I ought to know?"
        "Come  and  look,"  said  Piglet simply, and he led the
way.
        "There wouldn't be two  houses,"  said  Pooh.  "Not  so
close together."
        They  came  round  the  corner,  and there was Eeyore's
house, looking as comfy as anything.
        "There you are," said Piglet.
        "Inside as well as outside," said Pooh proudly.
        Eeyore went inside . . . and came out again.
        "It's a remarkable thing," he said. "It  is  my  house,
and  I built it where I said I did, so the wind must have blown
it here. And the wind blew it right over the wood, and blew  it
down  here,  and here it is as good as ever. In fact, better in
places."
        "Much better," said Pooh and Piglet together.
        "It just shows what can be  done  by  taking  a  little
trouble,"  said Eeyore. "Do you see, Pooh ? Do you see, Piglet?
Brains first and then Hard Work. Look at it! That's the way  to
build a house," said Eeyore proudly.
        So they left him in it; and Christopher Robin went back
to lunch  with his friends Pooh and Piglet, and on the way they
told him of the Awful Mistake they had made. And  when  he  had
finished  laughing,  they  all  sang the Outdoor Song for Snowy
Weather the rest of the way home, Piglet,  who  was  still  not
quite sure of his voice, putting in the tiddely-poms again.
        "And  I  know  it  seems easy," said Piglet to himself,
"but it isn't every one who could do it."




     WINNIE-THE-POOH  woke  up  suddenly  in  the middle of the
night and listened. Then he got out of bed, and lit his candle,
and stumped across the room to see if anybody was trying to get
into his honey-cupboard, and they weren't, so he  stumped  back
again, blew out his candle, and got into bed. Then he heard the
noise again.
        "Is that you, Piglet?" he said. But it wasn't.
        "Come in, Christopher Robin," he said.
        But Christopher Robin didn't.
        "Tell  me  about  it  to-morrow,  Eeyore,"  said   Pooh
sleepily.
        But the noise went on.
        "Worraworraworraworraworra,"  said Whatever-it-was, and
Pooh found that he wasn't asleep after all.
        "What can it be?" he thought. "There are lots of noises
in the Forest, but this is a different one. It isn't  a  growl,
and  it  isn't  a  purr,  and it isn't a bark, and it isn't the
noise-you-make-before- beginning-a-piece-of-poetry, but it's  a
noise  of  some kind, made by a strange animal. And he's making
it outside my door. So I shall get up and ask  him  not  to  do
it."
        He got out of bed and opened his front door.
        "Hallo!" said Pooh, in case there was anything outside.
        "Hallo!" said Whatever-it-was.
        "Oh!" said Pooh. "Hallo!"
        "Hallo!"
        "Oh, there you are!" said Pooh. "Hallo!"
        "Hallo!"  said  the  Strange Animal, wondering how long
this was going on.
        Pooh was just going to say "Hallo!" for the fourth time
when he thought that he wouldn't, so  he  said,  "Who  is  it?"
instead.
        "Me," said a voice.
        "Oh!" said Pooh. "Well, come here."
        So  Whatever-it-was  came here, and in the light of the
candle he and Pooh looked at each other.



     "I'm Pooh," said Pooh.
        "I'm Tigger," said Tigger.
        "Oh!" said Pooh, for he had never seen an  animal  like
this before. "Does Christopher Robin know about you?"
        "Of course he does," said Tigger.
        "Well," said Pooh, "it's the middle of the night, which
is a good  time for going to sleep. And to-morrow morning we'll
have some honey for breakfast. Do Tiggers like honey?"
        "They like everything," said Tigger cheerfully.
        "Then if they like going to sleep on the floor, I'll go
back to bed," said Pooh, "and we'll do things in  the  morning.
Good night." And he got back into bed and went fast asleep.
        When  he  awoke  in the morning, the first thing he saw
was Tigger, sitting in  front  of  the  glass  and  looking  at
himself.
        "Hallo!" said Pooh.
        "Hallo!"  said  Tigger.  "I've found somebody just like
me. I thought I was the only one of them."
        Pooh got out of  bed,  and  began  to  explain  what  a
looking-glass   was,   but  just  as  he  was  getting  to  the
interesting part, Tigger said:
        "Excuse me a moment, but there's something climbing  up
your  table,"  and  with  one loud Worraworraworraworraworra he
jumped at the
    end of the tablecloth, pulled it  to  the  ground,  wrapped
himself  up  in  it three times, rolled to the other end of the
room, and, after a terrible struggle, got  his  head  into  the
daylight again, and said cheerfully. "Have I won?"
        "That's  my  tablecloth,"  said  Pooh,  as  he began to
unwind Tigger.
        "I wondered what it was," said Tigger.
        "It goes on the table and you put things on it."
        "Then why did it try to bite me when I wasn't looking?"
        "I don't think it did," said Pooh.
        "It tried," said Tigger, "but I was too quick for it."
        Pooh put the cloth back on the  table,  and  he  put  a
large  honey-pot  on the cloth, and they sat down to breakfast.
And as soon as they sat down, Tigger took a large  mouthful  of
honey  .  .  . and he looked up at the ceiling with his head on
one side, and  made  exploring  noises  with  his  tongue,  and
considering  noises, and what-have-we-got-here noises . . . and
then he said in a very decided voice:
        "Tiggers don't like honey."
        "Oh!" said Pooh, and tried to make  it  sound  Sad  and
Regretful. "I thought they liked everything."
        "Everything except honey," said Tigger.
        Pooh  felt rather pleased about this, and said that, as
soon as he had finished his own breakfast, he would take Tigger
round to Piglet's house, and Tigger could try some of  Piglet's
haycorns.
        "Thank  you,  Pooh," said Tigger, " because haycorns is
really what Tiggers like best."
        So after breakfast they went round to see  Piglet,  and
Pooh explained as they went that Piglet was a Very Small Animal
who didn't like bouncing, and asked Tigger not to be too Bouncy
just at first. And Tigger, who had been hiding behind trees and
jumping  out on Pooh's shadow when it wasn't looking, said that
Tiggers were only bouncy before breakfast, and that as soon  as
they  had  had a few haycorns they became Quiet and Refined. So
by-and-by they knocked at the door of Piglet's house.
        "Hallo, Pooh," said Piglet.
        "Hallo, Piglet. This is Tigger."
        "Oh, is it?" said Piglet, and he  edged  round  to  the
other  side  of the table. "I thought Tiggers were smaller than
that."
        "Not the big ones," said Tigger.
        "They like haycorns," said Pooh, "so that's what  we've
come for, because poor Tigger hasn't had any breakfast yet."
        Piglet  pushed the bowl of haycorns towards Tigger, and
said, "Help yourself," and then he got close  up  to  Pooh  and
felt  much braver, and said, "So you're Tigger? Well, well!" in
a careless sort of voice. But Tigger said nothing  because  his
mouth was full of haycorns....
        After a long munching noise he said:
        "Ee-ers o i a-ors."
        And  when  Pooh  and Piglet said "What?" he said "Skoos
ee," and went outside for a moment.
        When he came back he said firmly:
        "Tiggers don't like haycorns."
        "But you said they liked everything except honey," said
Pooh.
        "Everything  except  honey  and  haycorns,"   explained
Tigger.
        When he heard this, Pooh said, "Oh, I see!" and Piglet,
who was rather  glad  that  Tiggers didn't like haycorns, said,
"What about thistles?"
        "Thistles," said Tigger, "is what Tiggers like best."
        "Then lets go along and see Eeyore," said Piglet
        So the three of them went; and after  they  had  walked
and  walked  and  walked,  they  came to the part of the Forest
where Eeyore was.
        "Hallo, Eeyore!" said Pooh. "This is Tigger."
        "What is?" said Eeyore.
        "This," explained Pooh and Piglet together, and  Tigger
smiled his happiest smile and said nothing.
        Eeyore walked all round Tigger one way, and then turned
and walked all round him the other way.
        "What did you say it was?" he asked.
        "Tigger."
        "Ah!" said Eeyore.
        "He's just come," explained Piglet.
        "Ah!" said Eeyore again.
        He thought for a long time and then said:
        "When is he going?"
        Pooh explained to Eeyore that Tigger was a great friend
of Christopher Robin's, who had come to stay in the Forest, and
Piglet explained  to  Tigger  that  he mustn't mind what Eeyore
said because he was always  gloomy;  and  Eeyore  explained  to
Piglet  that,  on  the  contrary,  he  was feeling particularly
cheerful this morning; and Tigger explained to anybody who  was
listening  that  he  hadn't had any breakfast yet. I knew there
was something," said Pooh. "Tiggers  always  eat  thistles,  so
that was why we came to see you, Eeyore."
        "Don't mention it, Pooh."
        "Oh,  Eeyore,  I  didn't mean that I didn't want to see
you--"
        "Quite--quite. But your new stripy friend--  naturally,
he wants his breakfast. What did you say his name was?"
        "Tigger."
        "Then come this way, Tigger."
        Eeyore led the way to the most thistly-looking patch of
thistles that ever was, and waved a hoof at it.
        "A  little  patch  I  was  keeping for my birthday," he
said; " but, after all, what are  birthdays?  Here  to-day  and
gone to-morrow. Help yourself, Tigger."
        Tigger  thanked  him  and  looked a little anxiously at
Pooh.
        "Are these really thistles?" he whispered.
        "Yes," said Pooh.
        "What Tiggers like best?"
        "That's right," said Pooh.
        "I see," said Tigger.
        So he took a  large  mouthful,  and  he  gave  a  large
crunch.
        "Ow!" said Tigger.
        He sat down and put his paw in his mouth.
        "What's the matter?" asked Pooh.
        "Hot!" mumbled Tigger.
        "Your  friend," said Eeyore, "appears to have bitten on
a bee."
        Pooh's friend stopped  shaking  his  head  to  get  the
prickles out, and explained that Tiggers didn't like thistles.
        "Then why bend a perfectly good one?" asked Eeyore.
        "But  you  said,"  began Pooh, "--you said that Tiggers
liked everything except honey and haycorns."
        "And thistles," said Tigger, who was now running  round
in circles with his tongue hanging out.
        Pooh looked at him sadly.
        "What are we going to do?" he asked Piglet.
        Piglet  knew  the  answer  to that, and he said at once
that they must go and see Christopher Robin
        "You'll find him with  Kanga,"  said  Eeyore.  He  came
close to Pooh, and said in a loud whisper:
        "Could   you  ask  your  friend  to  do  his  exercises
somewhere else? I shall be having  lunch  directly,  and  don't
want  it bounced on just before I begin. A trifling matter, and
fussy of me, but we all have our little ways."
        Pooh nodded solemnly and called to Tigger.
        "Come along and we'll go and see Kanga. She's  sure  to
have lots of breakfast for you."
        Tigger finished his last circle and came up to Pooh and
Piglet.
        "Hot!"  he  explained  with a large and friendly smile.
"Come on!" and he rushed off.
        Pooh and Piglet walked slowly after him.  And  as  they
walked  Piglet  said  nothing,  because  he  couldn't  think of
anything, and Pooh said nothing, because he was thinking  of  a
poem. And when he had thought of it he began:

                  What shall we do about poor little Tigger?
            If he never eats nothing he'll never get bigger.
            He doesn't like honey and haycorns and thistles
            Because of the taste and because of the bristles.
            And all the good things which an animal likes
            Have the wrong sort of swallow or too many spikes.

              "He's quite big enough anyhow," said Piglet.
        "He isn't really very big."
        "Well he seems so."
        Pooh  was  thoughtful  when  he heard this, and then he
murmured to himself:


                  But whatever his weight in pounds, shillings,
and ounces,
            He always seems bigger because of his bounces.

        "And that's the whole poem," he said. "Do you like  it,
Piglet?"
        "All except the shillings," said Piglet. "I don't think
they ought to be there."
        "They  wanted  to  come in after the pounds," explained
Pooh, " so I let them. It is the  best  way  to  write  poetry,
letting things come."
        "Oh, I didn't know," said Piglet.
        Tigger  had  been  bouncing  in  front of them all this
time, turning round every now and then to  ask,  "Is  this  the
way?"--and now at last they came in sight of Kanga's house, and
there was Christopher Robin. Tigger rushed up to him.
        "Oh, there you are, Tigger!" said Christopher Robin. "I
knew you'd be somewhere."
        "I've  been  finding things in the Forest," said Tigger
importantly. "I've found a pooh and a piglet and an eeyore, but
I can't find any breakfast."
        Pooh and Piglet came up and hugged  Christopher  Robin,
and explained what had been happening.
        "Don't you know what Tiggers like?" asked Pooh.
        "I  expect  if  I  thought  very  hard  I should," said
Christopher Robin, "but I thought Tigger knew."
        "I do," said Tigger. "Everything there is in the  world
except  honey  and  haycorns  and--what  were  those hot things
called?"
        "Thistles."
        Yes, and those."
        "Oh, well then, Kanga can give you some breakfast."
        So they went into Kanga's house, and when Roo had said,
"Hallo, Pooh," and "Hallo, Piglet" once,  and  "Hallo,  Tigger"
twice,  because  he  had  never  said  it before and it sounded
funny, they told Kanga what they wanted, and  Kanga  said  very
kindly,  "Well,  look in my cupboard, Tigger dear, and see what
you'd like." Because she knew at once that, however big  Tigger
seemed to be, he wanted as much kindness as Roo.
        "Shall  I  look,  too?" said Pooh, who was beginning to
feel a little eleven o'clockish. And he found a  small  tin  of
condensed  milk,  and something seemed to tell him that Tiggers
didn't like this, so he took it into a corner  by  itself,  and
went with it to see that nobody interrupted it.
        But  the more Tigger put his nose into this and his paw
into that, the more things he found which Tiggers didn't  like.
And  when he had found everything in the cupboard, and couldn't
eat any of it, he said to Kanga, "What happens now?"
        But Kanga and Christopher Robin  and  Piglet  were  all
standing  round Roo, watching him have his Extract of Malt. And
Roo was saying, "Must I?" and Kanga was saying "Now, Roo  dear,
you remember what you promised."
        "What is it?" whispered Tigger to Piglet.
        "His  Strengthening  Medicine,"  said Piglet. "He hates
it."
        So Tigger came closer, and he leant over  the  back  of
Roo's  chair,  and suddenly he put out his tongue, and took one
large golollop, and, with a  sudden  jump  of  surprise,  Kanga
said, "Oh!" and then clutched at the spoon again just as it was
disappearing,  and pulled it safely back out of Tigger's mouth.
But the Extract of Malt had gone.
        "Tigger dear!" said Kanga.
        "He's taken my medicine, he's taken my  medicine,  he's
taken  my  medicine!"  sang  Roo  happily,  thinking  it  was a
tremendous joke.
        Then Tigger looked up at the ceiling,  and  closed  his
eyes, and his tongue went round and round his chops, in case he
had  left  any outside, and a peaceful smile came over his face
as he said, "So that's what Tiggers like!"



    Which  explains  why  he  always  lived  at  Kanga's  house
afterwards,  and had Extract of Malt for breakfast, dinner, and
tea. And sometimes, when Kanga thought he wanted strengthening,
he had a spoonful  or  two  of  Roosbreakfast  after  meals  as
medicine.
        "But  I  think,"  said  Piglet to Pooh, "that he's been
strengthened quite enough."





     POOH  was  sitting in his house one day, counting his pots
of honey, when there came a knock on the door.
        "Fourteen," said Pooh. "Come in. Fourteen.  Or  was  it
fifteen? Bother. That's muddled me."
        "Hallo, Pooh," said Rabbit.
        "Hallo, Rabbit. Fourteen, wasn't it?"
        "What was?"
        "My pots of honey what I was counting."
        "Fourteen, that's right."
        "Are you sure?"
        "No," said Rabbit. "Does it matter?"
        "I  just  like to know," said Pooh humbly, "So as I can
say to myself: 'I've got  fourteen  pots  of  honey  left.'  Or
fifteen, as the case may be. It's sort of comforting."
        "Well,  let's  call  it  sixteen," said Rabbit. "What I
came to say was: Have you seen Small anywhere about?"
        "I don't think so," said Pooh. And then, after thinking
a little more, he said? Who is Small?"
        "One  of   my   friends-and-relations,"   said   Rabbit
carelessly.
        This  didn't help Pooh much, because Rabbit had so many
friends-and-relations, and of such different sorts  and  sizes,
that he didn't know whether he ought to be looking for Small at
the top of an oaktree or in the petal of a buttercup.
        "I  haven't seen anybody to-day," said Pooh, "not so as
to say 'Hallo, Small!' to. Did you want him for anything?"
        "I don't want  him,"  said  Rabbit.  "But  it's  always
useful to know where a friend-and-relation is, whether you want
him or whether you
    don't."
        "Oh, I see," said Pooh. "Is he lost?"
        "Well,"  said  Rabbit,  "nobody has seen him for a long
time, so I suppose he is. Anyhow," he went on  importantly,  "I
promised Christopher
    Robin I'd Organize a Search for him, so come on."
        Pooh  said good-bye affectionately to his fourteen pots
of honey, and hoped they were fifteen; and he and  Rabbit  went
out into the Forest.
        "Now,"  said  Rabbit,  "this  is  a  Search,  and  I've
Organized it----"
        "Done what to it?" said Pooh.
        "Organized it. Which means--well, it's what you do to a
Search, when you don't all look in the same place at once. So I
want you, Pooh, to search by the Six Pine Trees first, and then
work your way towards Owl's House, and look out for  me  there.
Do you see?"
        "No," said Pooh. "What "
        "Then  I'll  see  you at Owl's House in about an hour's
time."
        "Is Piglet organdized too?"
        "We all are," said Rabbit, and off he went.

        As soon as Rabbit was out  of  sight,  Pooh  remembered
that  he had forgotten to ask who Small was, and whether he was
the sort of friend-and-relation who settled on one's  nose,  or
the  sort who got trodden on by mistake, and as it was Too Late
Now, he thought he would begin the Hunt by looking for  Piglet,
and  asking him what they were looking for before he looked for
it.
        "And it's no good looking at the  Six  Pine  Trees  for
Piglet," said Pooh to himself, "because he's been organdized in
a  special  place  of  his own. So I shall have to look for the
Special Place first. I wonder where it is."  And  he  wrote  it
down in his head like this:

            ORDER OF LOOKING FOR THINGS.

    I. Special Place. (To find Piglet.)
    2. Piglet. (To find who Small is.)
    3. Small. (To find Small.)
    4. Rabbit. (To tell him I've found Small.)
    5. Small Again. (To tell him I've found Rabbit.)

        "Which  makes  it  look  like a bothering sort of day,"
thought Pooh, as he stumped along.
        The next moment the day became very  bothering  indeed,
because Pooh was so busy not looking where he was going that he
stepped on a piece
    of  the  Forest  which had been left out by mistake; and he
only just had time to think to himself: "I'm flying.  What  Owl
does. I wonder how you stop--" when he stopped.
        Bump!
        "Ow!" squeaked something.
        "That's  funny,"  thought  Pooh.  "I  said 'Ow! without
really oo'ing."
        "Help!" said a small, high voice.
        "That's me again," thought Pooh. "I've had an Accident,
and fallen down a well, and my voice has gone all  squeaky  and
works  before  I'm ready for it, because I've done something to
myself inside. Bother!"
        "Help--help!"
        "There you are! I say things when I'm not trying. So it
must be a very bad Accident." And then he thought that  perhaps
when  he  did  try to say things he wouldn't be able to; so, to
make sure, he said loudly:
        "A Very Bad Accident to Pooh Bear."
        "Pooh!" squeaked the voice.
        "It's Piglet!" cried Pooh eagerly. "Where are you?"
        "Underneath," said Piglet in an underneath sort of way.
        "Underneath what?"
        "You," squeaked Piglet. "Get up!"
        "Oh!" said Pooh, and scrambled  up  as  quickly  as  he
could. "Did I fall on you, Piglet?"
        "You  fell  on  me,"  said  Piglet, feeling himself all
over.
        "I didn't mean to," said Pooh sorrowfully.
        "I didn't mean to be underneath,"  said  Piglet  sadly.
"But I'm all right now, Pooh, and I am so glad it was you."
        "What's happened?" said Pooh. "Where are we?"
        "I  think  we're in a sort of Pit. I was walking along,
looking for somebody, and then suddenly I wasn't any more,  and
just  when  I  got up to see where I was, something fell on me.
And it was you."
        "So it was," said Pooh. "Yes," said Piglet. "Pooh,"  he
went  on  nervously,  and  came  a little closer, "do you think
we're in a Trap?"
        Pooh hadn't thought about it at all, but now he nodded.
For suddenly he remembered how he and Piglet had  once  made  a
Pooh  Trap for Heffalumps, and he guessed what had happened. He
and Piglet had fallen into a Heffalump Trap for Poohs! That was
what it was.
        "What happens when the Heffalump comes?"  asked  Piglet
tremblingly, when he had heard the news.
        "Perhaps  he  won't  notice  you,  Piglet,"  said  Pooh
encouragingly, "because you're a Very Small Animal."
        "But he'll notice you, Pooh."
        "He'll notice me, and I shall notice him,"  said  Pooh,
thinking  it out. "We'll notice each other for a long time, and
then he'll say: 'Ho-ho!'"
        Piglet  shivered  a  little  at  the  thought  of  that
"Ho-ho!" and his ears began to twitch.
        "W-what will you say?" he asked.
        Pooh  tried to think of something he would say, but the
more he thought, the more he felt that there is no real  answer
to  "Ho-ho!"  said  by  a  Heffalump  in the sort of voice this
Heffalump was going to say it in.
        "I shan't say anything," said Pooh at  last.  "I  shall
just hum to myself, as if I was waiting for something."
        "Then  perhaps  he'll  say  'Ho-ho!'  again?" suggested
Piglet anxiously.
        "He will," said Pooh.
        Piglet's ears twitched so quickly that he had  to  lean
them against the side of the Trap to keep them quiet.
        "He  will  say it again," said Pooh, "and I shall go on
humming. And that will Upset him. Because when you say 'Ho-ho!'
twice, in a gloating sort of way, and  the  other  person  only
hums,  you suddenly find, just as you begin to say it the third
time that --that--well, you find----"
        "What?"
        "That it isn't," said Pooh.
        "Isn't what?"
        Pooh knew what he meant, but,  being  a  Bear  of  Very
Little Brain, couldn't think of the words.
        "Well, it just isn't," he said again.
        "You  mean  it  isn't  ho-ho-ish any more?" said Piglet
hopefully.
        Pooh looked at him admiringly and said  that  that  was
what he meant--if you went on humming all the time, because you
couldn't go on saying "Ho-ho!" for ever.
        "But he'll say something else," said Piglet.
        "That's  just it. He'll say? What's all this?" And then
I shall say--and this is a very good idea, Piglet,  which  I've
just  thought  of--I  shall  say:  `It's a trap for a Heffalump
which I've made, and I'm waiting for the Heffalump to fall in.'
And I shall go on humming. That will Unsettle him."
        "Pooh!" cried Piglet, and now it was his turn to be the
admiring one. "You've saved us!"
        "Have I?" said Pooh, not feeling quite sure.
        But Piglet was quite sure; and his mind ran on, and  he
saw  Pooh  and  the  Heffalump  talking  to  each other, and he
thought suddenly, and a little sadly, that it would  have  been
rather  nice if it had been Piglet and the Heffalump talking so
grandly to each other, and not Pooh, much  as  he  loved  Pooh;
because   he   really   had  more  brain  than  Pooh,  and  the
conversation would go better if he and not Pooh were doing  one
side  of  it,  and  it  would  be  comforting afterwards in the
evenings to look back on the day when he answered  a  Heffalump
back  as bravely as if the Heffalump wasn't there. It seemed so
easy now. He knew just what he would say:
        HEFFALUMP (gloatingly): "Ho-ho!"
        PIGLET (carelessly): "Tra-la-la, tra-la-la."
        HEFFALUMP  (surprised,  and  not  quite  so   sure   of
himself): "Ho-ho!"
        PIGLET   (more   carelessly   still):   "Tiddle-um-tum,
tiddle-um-tum."
        HEFFALUMP  (beginning  to  say  Ho-ho  and  turning  it
awkwardly into a cough): "H'r'm! What's all this?"
        PIGLET  (surprised):  "Hullo! This is a trap I've made,
and I'm waiting for a Heffalump to fall into it."
        HEFFALUMP (greatly disappointed): "Oh!" (After  a  long
silence): "Are you sure?"
        PIGLET: "Yes."
        HEFFALUMP:  "Oh!"  (nervously):  "I--I thought it was a
trap I'd made to catch Piglets."
        PIGLET (surprised): "Oh, no!"
        HEFFALUMP: "Oh!" (Apologetically): "I--I must have  got
it wrong then."
        PIGLET:  "I'm  afraid so." (Politely): "I'm sorry." (He
goes on humming.)
        HEFFALUMP: "Well-well-I-well. I suppose I'd  better  be
getting back?"
        PIGLET (looking up carelessly): "Must you? Well, if you
see Christopher Robin anywhere, you might tell him I want him."
        HEFFALUMP  (eager  to  please): "Certainly! Certainly!"
(He hurries off.)
        POOH (who wasn't going to be  there,  but  we  find  we
can't  do without him."): "Oh, Piglet, how brave and clever you
are!"
        PIGLET (modestly): "Not at all, Pooh." (And then,  when
Christopher Robin comes, Pooh can tell him about it.)
        While  Piglet  was  dreaming this happy dream, and Pooh
was wondering again whether it was  fourteen  or  fifteen,  the
Search  for  Small  was  still  going  on  all over the Forest.
Small's real name was Very Small  Beetle,  but  he  was  called
Small  for  short,  when  he was spoken to at all, which hardly
ever happened except when somebody said:  "Really,  Small!"  He
had  been staying with Christopher Robin for a few seconds, and
he had started round a gorse-bush for exercise, but instead  of
coming  back  the  other way, as expected, he hadn't, so nobody
knew where he was.
        "I expect he's just gone home," said Christopher  Robin
to Rabbit.
        "Did  he  say  Good-bye-and-thank-you-for-a-nice-time?"
said Rabbit.
        "He'd only just said how-do-you-do,"  said  Christopher
Robin.
        "Ha!" said Rabbit. After thinking a little, he went on:
"Has he written  a  letter  saying how much he enjoyed himself,
and how sorry he was he had to go so suddenly?"
        Christopher Robin didn't think he had.
        "Ha!" said Rabbit again,  and  looked  very  important.
"This  is  Serious.  He  is  Lost.  We must begin the Search at
once."
        Christopher Robin, who was thinking of something  else,
said: "Where's Pooh?"--but Rabbit had gone. So he went into his
house  and  drew  a  picture of Pooh going a long walk at about
seven o'clock in the morning, and then he climbed to the top of
his tree and climbed down again, and then he wondered what Pooh
was doing, and went across the Forest to see.
        It was not long before he came to the Gravel  Pit,  and
he  looked  down,  and  there  were Pooh and Piglet, with their
backs to him, dreaming happily.
        "Ho-ho!" said Christopher Robin loudly and suddenly.
        Piglet jumped six inches in the air with  Surprise  and
Anxiety, but Pooh went on dreaming.
        "It's  the  Heffalump!" thought Piglet nervously. "Now,
then!" He hummed in his throat a little, so that  none  of  the
words  should  stick,  and  then, in one most delightfully easy
way, he said: "Tra-la-la, tra-la-la," as if he had just thought
of it. But he didn't look round, because if you look round  and
see  a Very Fierce Heffalump looking down at you, sometimes you
forget what you were going to say.
        "Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um," said Christopher  Robin  in  a
voice  like Pooh's. Because Pooh had once invented a song which
went:

                     Tra-la-la, tra-la-la,
                Tra-la-la, tra-la-la,
               Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um.

        So whenever Christopher Robin sings it, he always sings
it in a Pooh-voice, which seems to suit it better.
        "He's said the wrong thing," thought Piglet  anxiously.
"He  ought  to  have said, 'Ho-ho!' again. Perhaps I had better
say it for him." And, as fiercely as  he  could,  Piglet  said:
"Ho-ho!"
        "How did you get there, Piglet?" said Christopher Robin
in his ordinary voice.
        "This  is Terrible," thought Piglet. "First he talks in
Pooh's voice, and then he talks in Christopher  Robin's  voice,
and  he's  doing  it  so  as  to  Unsettle  me.  "And being now
Completely Unsettled, he said very quickly and squeakily: "This
is a trap for Poohs, and I'm waiting  to  fall  in  it,  ho-ho,
what's all this, and then I say ho-ho again."
        "What?" said Christopher Robin.
        "A  trap  for ho-ho's," said Piglet huskily. "I've just
made it, and I'm waiting for the ho-ho to come-come."
        How long Piglet would have gone on like  this  I  don't
know, but at that moment Pooh woke up suddenly and decided that
it  was  sixteen. So he got up; and as he turned his head so as
to soothe himself in that awkward place in the  middle  of  the
back  where  something  was  tickling  him,  he saw Christopher
Robin.
        "Hallo!" he shouted joyfully.
        "Hallo, Pooh."
        Piglet looked up, and looked away again. And he felt so
Foolish and Uncomfortable that he had  almost  decided  to  run
away to Sea and be a Sailor, when suddenly he saw something.
        "Pooh!"  he  cried. "There's something climbing up your
back."
        "I thought there was," said Pooh.
        "It's Small!" cried Piglet.
        "Oh, that's who it is, is it?" said Pooh.
        "Christopher Robin, I've found Small!" cried Piglet.
        "Well done, Piglet," said Christopher Robin.
        And at these encouraging words Piglet felt quite  happy
again,  and  decided  not  to  be  a  Sailor after all. So when
Christopher Robin had helped them out of the Gravel  Pit,  they
all went off together hand-in-hand.
        And  two  days  later Rabbit happened to meet Eeyore in
the Forest.
        "Hallo, Eeyore," he said, "what are you looking for?"
        "Small, of  course,"  said  Eeyore.  "Haven't  you  any
brain?"
        "Oh,  but  didn't  I tell you?" said Rabbit. "Small was
found two days ago."
        There was a moment's silence.
        "Ha-ha," said Eeyore bitterly. "Merriment and what-not.
Don't apologize. It's just what would happen."





     One day when Pooh was thinking, he thought he would go and
see Eeyore, because he hadn't seen him since yesterday. And  as
he walked through the  heather,  singing  to  himself, he suddenly
remembered that he hadn't seen Owl since the day before yesterday,
so he thought  that he would just look in at the Hundred Acre Wood
on the way and see if Owl was at home.
        Well, he went on singing, until he came to the part  of
the  stream  where the stepping-stones were, and when he was in
the middle of the third stone he began to wonder how Kanga  and
Roo and Tigger were getting on, because they all lived together
in  a  different part of the Forest. And he thought, "I haven't
seen Roo for a long time, and if I don't see him to-day it will
be a still longer time." So he sat down on  the  stone  in  the
middle of the stream, and sang another verse of his song, while
he wondered what to do.
        The other verse of the song was like this:

                        I could spend a happy morning
                     Seeing Roo,
                 I could spend a happy morning
                     Being Pooh.
                 For it doesn't seem to matter,
                 If I don't get any fatter
                 (And I don't get any fatter),
                     What I do.

        The  sun was so delightfully warm, and the stone, which
had been sitting in it for a long time, was so warm,  too  that
Pooh  had  almost  decided to go on being Pooh in the middle of
the stream for the rest of  the  morning,  when  he  remembered
Rabbit.
        "Rabbit,"  said  Pooh  to  himself.  "I like talking to
Rabbit. He talks about sensible things. He  doesn't  use  long,
difficult  words,  like  Owl.  He  uses short, easy words, like
'What about lunch?'  and  'Help  yourself,  Pooh.'  I  suppose,
really, I ought to go and see Rabbit."
        Which made him think of another verse:

                      Oh, I like his way of talking,
                    Yes, I do.
                It's the nicest way of talking
                    Just for two.
                And a Help-yourself with Rabbit
                Though it may become a habit,
                Is a pleasant sort of habit
                    For a Pooh.

        So  when  he  had  sung  this, he got up off his stone,
walked back across the stream, and set off for Rabbit's house.
        But he hadn't  got  far  before  he  began  to  say  to
himself:
        "Yes, but suppose Rabbit is out?"
        "Or suppose I get stuck in his front door again, coming
out, as I did once when his front door wasn't big enough?"
        "Because  I  know I'm not getting fatter, but his front
door may be getting thinner."
        "So wouldn't it be better if----"
        And all the time he was saying things like this he  was
going  more  and  more  westerly,  without thinking . . . until
suddenly he found himself at his own front door again.
        And it was eleven o'clock.
        Which was Time-for-a-little-something....
        Half an hour later he was  doing  what  he  had  always
really  meant to do, he was stumping off to Piglet's house. And
as he walked, he wiped his mouth with the back of his paw,  and
sang rather a fluffy song through the fur. It went like this:

                 I could spend a happy morning
               Seeing Piglet.
           And I couldn't spend a happy morning
               not seeing Piglet.
           And it doesn't seem to matter
           If  I  don't  see  Owl  and  Eeyore  (or  any of the
others),
           And I'm not going to see Owl or Eeyore  (or  any  of
the others)
               Or Christopher Robin.

        Written  down  like  this,  it doesn't seem a very good
song, but coming through pale fawn  fluff  at  about  half-past
eleven  on a very sunny morning, it seemed to Pooh to be one of
the best songs he had ever sung. So he went on singing it.
        Piglet was busy digging a  small  hole  in  the  ground
outside his house.
        "Hallo, Piglet," said Pooh.
        "Hallo,   Pooh,--"   said  Piglet,  giving  a  jump  of
surprise. "I knew it was you."
        "So did I," said Pooh. "What are you doing?"
        "I'm planting a haycorn, Pooh, so that it can  grow  up
into  an  oak-tree,  and have lots of haycorns just outside the
front door instead of having to walk miles and  miles,  do  you
see, Pooh?"
        "Supposing it doesn't?" said Pooh.
        "It  will,  because  Christopher Robin says it will, so
that's why I'm planting it."



        "Well," said Pooh, "if I plant a honeycomb  outside  my
house, then it will grow up into a beehive."
        Piglet wasn't quite sure about this.
        "Or  a  piece of a honeycomb," said Pooh, "so as not to
waste too much. Only then  I  might  only  get  a  piece  of  a
beehive,  and  it might be the wrong piece, where the bees were
buzzing and not hunnying. Bother."
        Piglet agreed that that would be rather bothering.
        "Besides, Pooh, it's a very difficult  thing,  planting
unless you know how to do it," he said; and he put the acorn in
the  hole he had made, and covered it up with earth, and jumped
on it.
        "I do know," said Pooh, "because Christopher Robin gave
me a mastershalum seed, and I planted it, and I'm going to have
mastershalums all over the front door."
        "I thought they were called nasturtiums,"  said  Piglet
timidly, as he went on jumping.
        "No,"   said   Pooh.   "Not  these.  These  are  called
mastershalums."
        When Piglet had finished jumping, he wiped his paws  on
his  front,  and  said,  "What shall we do now?" and Pooh said,
"Let's go and see Kanga and Roo and Tigger," and  Piglet  said,
"Y-yes.  L-let's"--because  he was still a little anxious about
Tigger, who was a Very Bouncy Animal,  with  a  way  of  saying
How-do-you-do,  which  always left your ears full of sand, even
after Kanga had said, "Gently, Tigger dear," and had helped you
up again. So they set off for Kanga's house.

        Now it happened that Kanga  had  felt  rather  motherly
that  morning,  and  Wanting to Count Things--like Roo's vests,
and how many pieces of soap there were left, and the two  clean
spots  in  Tigger's  feeder;  so  she  had sent them out with a
packet of  watercress  sandwiches  for  Roo  and  a  packet  of
extract-of-malt  sandwiches  for  Tigger,  to  have a nice long
morning in the Forest not getting into mischief. And  off  they
had gone.
        And  as they went, Tigger told Roo (who wanted to know)
all about the things that Tiggers could do.
        "Can they fly?" asked Roo.
        "Yes," said Tigger, "they're very good flyers,  Tiggers
are. Strornry good flyers."
        "Oo!" said Roo. "Can they fly as well as Owl?"
        "Yes," said Tigger. "Only they don't want to."
        "Why don't they want to?" well, they just don't like it
somehow."
        Roo  couldn't  understand  this,  because he thought it
would be lovely to be able to  fly,  but  Tigger  said  it  was
difficult to explain to anybody who wasn't a Tigger himself.
        "Well," said Roo, "can they jump as far as Kangas?"
        "Yes," said Tigger. "When they want to."
        "I  love  jumping,"  said  Roo. "Let's see who can jump
farthest, you or me."
        "I can," said Tigger. "But we mustn't stop now,  or  we
shall be late."
        "Late for what?"
        "For  whatever we want to be in time for," said Tigger,
hurrying on.
        In a little while they came to the Six Pine Trees.
        "I can swim," said Roo. "I fell into the river,  and  I
swimmed. Can Tiggers swim?"
        "Of course they can. Tiggers can do everything."
        "Can  they  climb  trees  better than Pooh?" asked Roo,
stopping under the tallest Pine Tree, and looking up at it.
        "Climbing trees is what they  do  best,"  said  Tigger.
"Much better than Poohs."
        "Could they climb this one?"
        "They're always climbing trees like that," said Tigger.
"Up and down all day."
        "Oo, Tigger, are they really?"
        "I'll  show you," said Tigger bravely, "and you can sit
on my back and watch me. "For of all the things  which  he  had
said  Tiggers  could  do,  the  only one he felt really certain
about suddenly was climbing trees.
        "Oo,  Tigger--oo,  Tigger--oo,  Tigger!"  squeaked  Roo
excitedly.
        So he sat on Tigger's back and up they went.
        And  for  the  first  ten  feet  Tigger said happily to
himself, "Up we go!"
        And for the next ten feet he said:
        "I always said Tiggers could climb trees."
        And for the next ten feet he said:
        "Not that it's easy, mind you."
        And for the next ten feet he said:
        "Of course, there's the coming-down too. Backwards."
        And then he said:
        "Which will be difficult . . ."
        "Unless one fell . . ."
        "When it would be . . ."
        "EASY."
        And at the word "easy," the branch he was  standing  on
broke  suddenly, and he just managed to clutch at the one above
him as he felt himself going . . . and then slowly he  got  his
chin  over  it  .  . . and then one back paw . . . and then the
other . . . until at last he was sitting on it, breathing  very
quickly, and wishing that he had gone in for swimming instead.
        Roo climbed off, and sat down next to him.
        "Oo, Tigger," he said excitedly, "are we at the top?
        "No," said Tigger.
        "Are we going to the top?"
        "No," said Tigger.
        "Oh!"  said  Roo  rather  sadly.  And  then  he went on
hopefully: "That was a lovely bit just now, when you  pretended
we  were  going to fall-bump-to-the-bottom, and we didn't. Will
you do that bit again?"
        "No," said Tigger.
        Roo was silent for a little while, and  then  he  said,
"Shall  we  eat our sandwiches, Tigger?" And Tigger said, "Yes,
where are they?" And Roo said, "At the bottom of the tree." And
Tigger said, "I don't think we'd better eat them just yet."  So
they didn't.
        By-and-by  Pooh and Piglet came along. Pooh was telling
Piglet in a singing voice that it didn't seem to matter, if  he
didn't  get  any fatter, and he didn't think he was getting any
fatter, what he did; and Piglet was wondering how long it would
be before his haycorn came up.
        "Look, Pooh!" said Piglet suddenly. "There's  something
in one of the Pine Trees."
        "So  there  is!"  said  Pooh,  looking  up wonderingly.
"There's an Animal."
        Piglet took Pooh's arm, in case Pooh was frightened.
        "Is it One of the Fiercer Animals?"  he  said,  looking
the other way.
        Pooh nodded.
        "It's a Jagular," he said.
        "What  do  Jagulars do?" asked Piglet, hoping that they
wouldn't.
        "They hide in the branches of trees, and drop on you as
you go underneath," said Pooh. "Christopher Robin told me."
        "Perhaps we better hadn't go underneath, Pooh. In  case
he dropped and hurt himself."
        "They  don't hurt themselves," said Pooh. "They're such
very good droppers."
        Piglet still felt that to be  underneath  a  Very  Good
Dropper would be a Mistake, and he was just going to hurry back
for  something  which  he had forgotten when the Jagular called
out to them.
        "Help! Help!" it called.
        "That's what  Jagulars  always  do,"  said  Pooh,  much
interested. "They call 'Help! Help!' and then when you look up,
they drop on you."
        "I'm  looking  down,"  cried  Piglet  loudly, so as the
Jagular shouldn't do the wrong  thing  by  accident.  Something
very excited next to the Jagular heard him, and squeaked:
        "Pooh and Piglet! Pooh and Piglet!"
        All  of  a  sudden Piglet felt that it was a much nicer
day than he had thought it was. All warm and sunny----
        "Pooh!" he cried. "I believe it's Tigger and Roo!"
        "So it is," said Pooh. "I thought it was a Jagular  and
another Jagular."
        "Hallo, Roo!" called Piglet. "What are you doing?"
        "We  can't  get  down,  we  can't get down!" cried Roo.
"Isn't it fun? Pooh, isn't it fun, Tigger and I are living in a
tree, like Owl, and we're going to stay here for ever and ever.
I can see Piglet's house. Piglet, I can  see  your  house  from
here. Aren't we high? Is Owl's house as high up as this?"
        "How did you get there, Roo?" asked Piglet.
        "On  Tigger's  back! And Tiggers can't climb downwards,
because their tails get in the way, only  upwards,  and  Tigger
forgot   about  that  when  we  started,  and  he's  only  just
remembered. So we've got to stay here for ever and ever--unless
we go higher. What did you say, Tigger? Oh, Tigger says  if  we
go  higher  we shan't be able to see Piglet's house so well, so
we're going to stop here."
        "Piglet," said Pooh solemnly, when  he  had  heard  all
this,  "what  shall  we  do?"  And  he  began  to  eat Tigger's
sandwiches.
        "Are they stuck?" asked Piglet anxiously.
        Pooh nodded.
        "Couldn't you climb up to them?"
        "I might, Piglet, and I might  bring  Roo  down  on  my
back,  but  I  couldn't  bring Tigger down. So we must think of
something else. "And in a thoughtful way he began to eat  Roo's
sandwiches, too.

        Whether he would have thought of anything before he had
finished  the  last sandwich, I don't know, but he had just got
to the last but one when there was a crackling in the  bracken,
and Christopher Robin and Eeyore came strolling along together.
        "I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it hailed a good deal
to-morrow," Eeyore was saying. "Blizzards and  what-not.  Being
fine  to-day  doesn't Mean Anything. It has no sig--what's that
word? Well, it has none of that. It's just  a  small  piece  of
weather."
        "There's Pooh!" said Christopher Robin, who didn't much
mind what  it  did  to-morrow,  as  long  as  he was out in it.
"Hallo, Pooh!"
        "It's Christopher Robin!" said Piglet. "He'll know what
to do."
        They hurried up to him.
        "Oh, Christopher Robin," began Pooh.
        "And Eeyore," said Eeyore.
        "Tigger and Roo are right up the Six  Pine  Trees,  and
they can't get down, and----"
        "And  I  was just saying," put in Piglet, "that if only
Christopher Robin----"
        "And Eeyore----"
        "If  only  you  were  here,  then  we  could  think  of
something to do."
        Christopher  Robin  looked  up  at  Tigger and Roo, and
tried to think of something.
        "I thought," said Piglet  earnestly,  "that  if  Eeyore
stood  at the bottom of the tree, and if Pooh stood on Eeyore's
back, and if I stood on Pooh's shoulders----"
        "And if Eeyore's back snapped suddenly, then  we  could
all  laugh.  Ha  ha! Amusing in a quiet way," said Eeyore, "but
not really helpful."
        "Well," said Piglet meekly, "I thought----"
        "Would it break your back, Eeyore?"  asked  Pooh,  very
much surprised.
        "That's  what  would be so interesting, Pooh. Not being
quite sure till afterwards."
        Pooh said "Oh!" and they all began to think again.
        "I've got an idea!" cried Christopher Robin suddenly.
        "Listen to this, Piglet," said Eeyore, "and then you'll
know what we're trying to do."
        "I'll take off my tunic and we'll each hold  a  corner,
and  then  Roo  and Tigger can jump into it, and it will be all
soft and bouncy for them, and they won't hurt themselves."
        "Getting Tigger down," said Eeyore,  "and  not  hurting
anybody.  Keep those two ideas in your head, Piglet, and you'll
be all right."
        But Piglet wasn't listening, he  was  so  agog  at  the
thought of seeing Christopher Robin's blue braces again. He had
only  seen  them  once  before,  when he was much younger, and,
being a little over-excited by them, had had to go to bed  half
an hour earlier than usual; and he had always wondered since if
they were really as blue and as bracing as he had thought them.
So when Christopher Robin took his tunic off, and they were, he
felt quite friendly to Eeyore again, and held the corner of the
tunic  next  to  him  and  smiled  happily  at  him. And Eeyore
whispered back: "I'm not saying there won't be an Accident now,
mind you. They're funny things, Accidents. You never have  them
till you're having them."
        When  Roo  understood  what he had to do, he was wildly
excited, and cried out: "Tigger, Tigger, we're going  to  jump!
Look  at  me  jumping, Tigger! Like flying, my jumping will be.
Can  Tiggers  do  it?"  And  he  squeaked  out:  "I'm   coming,
Christopher Robin!" and he jumped-- straight into the middle of
the  tunic.  And  he was going so fast that he bounced up again
almost as high as where he was before--and went on bouncing and
saying, "Oo!" for quite  a  long  time--and  then  at  last  he
stopped and said, "Oo, lovely!" And they put him on the ground.
        "Come on, Tigger," he called out. "It's easy."
        But  Tigger  was holding on to the branch and saying to
himself: "It's all very well for Jumping Animals  like  Kangas,
but  it's  quite  different  for Swimming Animals like Tiggers.
"And he thought of himself floating on his back down  a  river,
or  striking  out  from one island to another, and he felt that
that was really the life for a Tigger.
        "Come along," called Christopher Robin. "You'll be  all
right."
        "Just  wait  a  moment,"  said Tigger nervously. "Small
piece of bark in my eye." And he moved slowly along his branch.
        "Come on, it's easy!" squeaked Roo. And suddenly Tigger
found how easy it was.
        "Ow!" he shouted as the tree flew past him.
        "Look out!" cried Christopher Robin to the others.
        There was a crash, and a tearing noise, and a  confused
heap of everybody on the ground.
        Christopher Robin and Pooh and Piglet picked themselves
up first,  and  then  they  picked  Tigger  up,  and underneath
everybody else was Eeyore.
        "Oh, Eeyore!" cried Christopher Robin. "Are you  hurt?"
And he felt him rather anxiously, and dusted him and helped him
to stand up again.
        Eeyore  said nothing for a long time. And then he said:
"Is Tigger there?"
        Tigger was there, feeling Bouncy again already.
        "Yes," said Christopher Robin. "Tigger's here."
        "Well, just thank him for me," said Eeyore.






    IT was going to be one of Rabbit's busy days. As soon as he
woke up he felt important, as if everything depended upon  him.
It  was just the day for Organizing Something, or for Writing a
Notice Signed Rabbit, or for Seeing What Everybody Else Thought
About It. It was a perfect morning for hurrying round to  Pooh,
and saying, "Very well, then, I'll tell Piglet," and then going
to Piglet, and saying, "Pooh thinks--but perhaps I'd better see
Owl  first."  It  was  a Captainish sort of day, when everybody
said, "Yes, Rabbit " and "No, Rabbit," and waited until he  had
told them.
        He  came  out  of his house and sniffed the warm spring
morning as he wondered what he  would  do.  Kanga's  house  was
nearest, and at Kanga's
    house  was  Roo,  who  said "Yes, Rabbit " and "No, Rabbit"
almost better than anybody else in the Forest;  but  there  was
another  animal  there nowadays, the strange and Bouncy Tigger;
and he was the sort of Tigger who was always in front when  you
were showing him the way anywhere,
    and was generally out of sight when at last you came to the
place and said proudly "Here we are!"
        "No, not Kanga's," said Rabbit thoughtfully to himself,
as he curled  his  whiskers  in the sun, and to make quite sure
that he wasn't going there, he turned to the left  and  trotted
off  in  the  other direction, which was the way to Christopher
Robin's house.
        "After all," said Rabbit to himself, "Christopher Robin
depends on Me. He's fond of Pooh and Piglet and Eeyore, and  so
am  I,  but  they  haven't  any  Brain.  Not  to notice. And he
respects Owl, because you can't help respecting anybody who can
spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but  spelling
isn't  everything.  There are days when spelling Tuesday simply
doesn't count. And Kanga is too busy looking after Roo, and Roo
is too young and Tigger is  too  bouncy  to  be  any  help,  so
there's really nobody but Me, when you come to look at it. I'll
go and see if there's anything he wants doing, and then I'll do
it for him. It's just the day for doing things."
        He  trotted along happily, and by-and-by he crossed the
stream and came to the place  where  his  friends-and-relations
lived.  There  seemed  to be even more of them about than usual
this morning, and having nodded to a hedgehog or two, with whom
he was too busy to shake hands, and having said, "Good morning,
good morning," importantly to some  of  the  others,  and  "Ah,
there  you are," kindly, to the smaller ones, he waved a paw at
them over his shoulder, and was gone leaving  such  an  air  of
excitement  and  I-don't-know-what  behind  him,  that  several
members of the Beetle family, including Henry Rush, made  their
way  at once to the Hundred Acre Wood and began climbing trees,
in the hope of getting to the top before it happened,  whatever
it  was,  so that they might see it properly. Rabbit hurried on
by the edge of the Hundred Acre Wood,  feeling  more  important
every  minute,  and  soon he came to the tree where Christopher
Robin lived. He knocked at the door, and he called out once  or
twice,  and then he walked back a little way and put his paw up
to keep the sun out, and called to the top  of  the  tree,  and
then  he  turned  all  round  and shouted "Hallo!" and "I say!"
"It's Rabbit!"--but  nothing  happened.  Then  he  stopped  and
listened, and everything stopped and listened with him, and the
Forest  was  very  lone and still and peaceful in the sunshine,
until suddenly a hundred miles above him a lark began to sing.
        "Bother!" said Rabbit. "He's gone out." He went back to
the green front door, just to make sure,  and  he  was  turning
away,  feeling that his morning had got all spoilt, when he saw
a piece of paper on the ground. And there was a pin in  it,  as
if it had fallen off the door.
        "Ha!"  said Rabbit, feeling quite happy again. "Another
notice!"
        This is what it said:

                                  GON OUT
                            BACKSON
                            BISY
                            BACKSON
                                      C. R.

        "Ha!" said Rabbit again. "I must tell the others."  And
he hurried off importantly.
        The  nearest house was Owl's, and to Owl's House in the
Hundred Acre wood he made his way. He came to Owl's  door,  and
he knocked and he rang, and he rang and he knocked, and at last
Owl's  head  came out and said "Go away, I'm thinking--oh, it's
you?" which was how he always began.
        "Owl," said Rabbit shortly, "you and I have brains. The
others have fluff. If there is any thinking to be done in  this
Forest--and when I say thinking I mean thinking--you and I must
do it."
        "Yes," said Owl. "I was."
        "Read that."
        Owl  took  Christopher  Robin's  notice from Rabbit and
looked at it nervously. He could spell his own name WOL, and he
could spell Tuesday so that you knew it wasn't  Wednesday,  and
he  could  read quite comfortably when you weren't looking over
his shoulder and saying "Well?" all the time, and he could----
        "Well?" said Rabbit.
        "Yes," said Owl, looking Wise and Thoughtful.
        "I see what you mean. Undoubtedly."
        "Well?"
        "Exactly," said Owl. "Precisely." And he added, after a
little thought, "If you had not come to me, I should have  come
to you."
        "Why?" asked Rabbit.
        "For that very reason," said Owl, hoping that something
helpful would happen soon.
        "Yesterday  morning,"  said Rabbit solemnly, "I went to
see Christopher Robin. He was out. Pinned on  his  door  was  a
notice!"
        "The same notice?"
        "A  different  one.  But the meaning was the same. It's
very odd."
        "Amazing," said Owl, looking at the notice  again,  and
getting,  just  for  a  moment,  a curious sort of feeling that
something had happened to Christopher Robin's back.  "What  did
you do?"
        "Nothing."
        "The best thing," said Owl wisely.
        "Well?" said Rabbit again, as Owl knew he was going to.
        "Exactly," said Owl.
        For  a little while he couldn't think of anything more;
and then, all of a sudden, he had an idea.
        "Tell me, Rabbit," he said, "the  exact  words  of  the
first  notice.  This  is  very important. Everything depends on
this. The exact words of the first notice."
        "It was just the same as that one really."
        Owl looked at him, and wondered whether to push him off
the tree; but, feeling that he could always do  it  afterwards,
he tried once more to find out what they were talking about.
        "The  exact words, please" he said, as if Rabbit hadn't
spoken.
        "It just said, 'Gone out. Backson.' Same as this,  only
this says 'Bisy Backson' too."
        Owl gave a great sigh of relief.
        "Ah!" said Owl. "Now we know where we are."
        "Yes,  but  where's  Christopher  Robin?"  said Rabbit.
"That's the point."
        Owl looked at the notice again. To one of his education
the reading  of  it  was  easy.  "Gone  out,   Backson.   Bisy,
Backson"--  just  the  sort  of  thing you'd expect to see on a
notice.
        "It is quite clear what has happened, my dear  Rabbit,"
he  said.  "Christopher  Robin  has  gone  out  somewhere  with
Backson. He and Backson are busy  together.  Have  you  seen  a
Backson anywhere about in the Forest lately?"
        "I don't know," said Rabbit. "That's what I came to ask
you. What are they like?"
        "Well," said Owl, "the Spotted or Herbaceous Backson is
just a--"
        "At least," he said, "it's really more of a----"
        "Of course," he said, "it depends on the----"
        "Well," said Owl, "the fact is," he said, "I don't know
what they're like," said Owl frankly.
        "Thank  you,"  said  Rabbit.  And he hurried off to see
Pooh.
        Before he had gone very far he heard  a  noise.  So  he
stopped and listened. This was the noise.

                      NOISE, BY POOH

                      Oh, the butterflies are flying,
                Now the winter days are dying,
                And the primroses are trying
                    To be seen.
                And the turtle-doves are cooing,
                And the woods arc up and doing,
                For the violets are blue-ing
                    In the green.

                      Oh, the honey-bees are gumming
                On their little wings, and humming
                That the summer, which is coming,
                    Will be fun.
                And the cows are almost cooing,
                And the turtle-doves are mooing,
                Which is why a Pooh is poohing
                    In the sun.

                      For the spring is really springing;
                You can see a skylark singing,
                And the blue-bells, which are ringing,
                    Can be heard.
                And the cuckoo isn't cooing,
                But he's cucking and he's ooing,
                And a Pooh is simply poohing
                    Like a bird.

        "Hallo, Pooh," said Rabbit.
        "Hallo, Rabbit," said Pooh dreamily.
        "Did you make that song up?"
        "Well,  I  sort  of  made  it up," said Pooh. "It isn't
Brain," he went on humbly, "because You Know Why,  Rabbit;  but
it comes to me sometimes."
        "Ah!"  said  Rabbit,  who never let things come to him,
but always went and fetched them. "Well, the point is, have you
seen a Spotted or
    Herbaceous Backson in the Forest, at all?"
        "No," said Pooh. "Not a--no," said Pooh. "I saw  Tigger
just now."
        "That's no good."
        "No," said Pooh. I thought it wasn't."
        "Have you seen Piglet?"
        "Yes,"  said  Pooh.  "I  suppose  that  isn't  any good
either?" he asked meekly.
        "Well, it depends if he saw anything."
        "He saw me," said Pooh.
        Rabbit sat down on the ground next to Pooh and, feeling
much less important like that, stood up again.
        "What it all comes to is this,"  he  said.  "What  does
Christopher Robin do in the morning nowadays?"
        "What sort of thing?"
        "Well,  can  you tell me anything you've seen him do in
the morning? These last few days."
        "Yes," said Pooh. "We had breakfast together yesterday.
By the Pine Trees. I'd made up a little basket, just a  little,
fair-sized  basket,  an  ordinary  biggish sort of basket, full
of--"
        "Yes, yes," said Rabbit, "but I mean later  than  that.
Have you seen him between eleven and twelve?"
        "Well,"   said  Pooh,  "at  eleven  o'clock--at  eleven
o'clock--well, at eleven o'clock, you see, I generally get home
about then. Because I have One or Two Things to Do."
        "Quarter past eleven, then?"
        "Well--" said Pooh.
        "Half past?"
        "Yes," said Pooh. "At half  past--or  perhaps  later--I
might see him."
        And  now  that he did think of it, he began to remember
that he hadn't seen Christopher Robin about so much lately. Not
in  the  mornings.  Afternoons,  yes;  evenings,  yes;   before
breakfast,  yes;  just after breakfast, yes. And then, perhaps,
"See you again, Pooh," and off he'd go.
        "That's just it," said Rabbit. "Where?"
        "Perhaps he's looking for something."
        "What?" asked Rabbit.
        "That's just what I was going to say," said  Pooh.  And
then he added, "Perhaps he's looking for a-- for a--"
        "A Spotted or Herbaceous Backson?"
        "Yes," said Pooh. "One of those. In case it isn't."
        Rabbit looked at him severely.
        "I don't think you're helping," he said.
        "No," said Pooh. "I do try," he added humbly.
        Rabbit  thanked  him for trying, and said that he would
now go and see Eeyore, and Pooh  could  walk  with  him  if  he
liked.  But  Pooh, who felt another verse of his song coming on
him, said he would wait for Piglet, good-bye, Rabbit; so Rabbit
went off.
        But, as it happened,  it  was  Rabbit  who  saw  Piglet
first.  Piglet  had got up early that morning to pick himself a
bunch of violets; and when he had picked them and put them in a
pot in the middle of his house, it suddenly came over him  that
nobody  had ever picked Eeyore a bunch of violets, and the more
he thought of this, the more he thought how sad it was to be an
Animal who had never had a bunch of violets picked for him.  So
he  hurried out again, saying to himself, "Eeyore, Violets" and
then "Violets, Eeyore," in case he forgot, because it was  that
sort  of  day,  and  he picked a large bunch and trotted along,
smelling them, and feeling very happy, until  he  came  to  the
place where Eeyore was.
        "Oh,  Eeyore," began Piglet a little nervously, because
Eeyore was busy.
        Eeyore put out a paw and waved him away.
        "To-morrow," said Eeyore. "Or  the  next  day."  Piglet
came  a  little  closer  to  see  what it was. Eeyore had three
sticks on the ground, and was  looking  at  them.  Two  of  the
sticks  were touching at one end, but not at the other, and the
third stick was laid across them. Piglet thought  that  perhaps
it was a Trap of some kind.
        "Oh, Eeyore," he began again, "I just--"
        "Is  that  little  Piglet?"  said Eeyore, still looking
hard at his sticks.
        "Yes, Eeyore, and I--"
        "Do you know what this is?"
        "No," said Piglet.
        "It's an A."
        "Oh," said Piglet.
        "Not O--A," said Eeyore severely. "Can't you  hear,  or
do you think you have more education than Christopher Robin?"
        "Yes," said Piglet. "No," said Piglet very quickly. And
he came closer still.
        "Christopher  Robin  said  it  was  an  A,  and an A it
is--until somebody treads on it," Eeyore added sternly.
        Piglet jumped backwards hurriedly,  and  smelt  at  his
violets.
        "Do you know what A means, little Piglet?"
        "No, Eeyore, I don't."
        "It  means  Learning,  it means Education, it means all
the things that you and Pooh haven't got. That's what A means."
        "Oh,"  said  Piglet  again.  "I  mean,  does  it?"   he
explained quickly.
        "I'm  telling  you.  People come and go in this Forest,
and they say, 'It's only Eeyore, so  it  doesn't  count.'  They
walk to and fro saying 'Ha ha!' But do they know anything about
A?  They  don't.  It's  just  three  sticks to them. But to the
Educated--mark  this,  little  Piglet--to  the  Educated,   not
meaning  Poohs  and Piglets, it's a great and glorious A. Not,"
he added, "just something that anybody  can  come  and  breathe
on."
        Piglet  stepped  back  nervously,  and looked round for
help.
        "Here's Rabbit," he said gladly. "Hallo, Rabbit."
        Rabbit came up importantly, nodded to Piglet, and said,
"Ah, Eeyore," in the voice of one who would be saying "Good-bye
" in about two more minutes.
        "There's just one thing I wanted to  ask  you,  Eeyore.
What happens to Christopher Robin in the mornings nowadays?"
        "What's  this  that I'm looking at?" said Eeyore, still
looking at it.
        "Three sticks," said Rabbit promptly.
        "You see?" said Eeyore to Piglet. He turned to  Rabbit.
"I will now answer your question," he said solemnly.
        "Thank you," said Rabbit.
        "What  does  Christopher  Robin  do in the mornings? He
learns. He becomes Educated. He instigorates--I think  that  is
the  word  he  mentioned,  but  I may be referring to something
else--he instigorates Knowledge. In my small way I also,  if  I
have  the  word  right,  am--am  doing  what he does. That, for
instance, is?"
        "An A," said Rabbit, "but not a very good one. Well,  I
must get back and tell the others."
        Eeyore  looked  at  his  sticks  and  then he looked at
Piglet.
        "What did Rabbit say it was?" he asked.
        "An A," said Piglet.
        "Did you tell him?"
        "No, Eeyore, I didn't. I expect he just knew."
        "He knew? You mean this  A  thing  is  a  thing  Rabbit
knew?"
        "Yes, Eeyore. He's clever, Rabbit is."
        "Clever!"   said  Eeyore  scornfully,  putting  a  foot
heavily on his three sticks. "Education!" said Eeyore bitterly,
jumping on his six sticks. "What is Learning?" asked Eeyore  as
he  kicked  his  twelve  sticks  into  the air. "A thing Rabbit
knows! Ha!"
        "I think--" began Piglet nervously.
        "Don't," said Eeyore.
        "I think Violets are rather nice," said Piglet. And  he
laid his bunch in front of Eeyore and scampered off.

        Next  morning  the  notice  on  Christopher Robins door
said:

                              GONE OUT
                        BACK SOON
                                        C. R.

        Which is why all the animals in the Forest-- except, of
course, the  Spotted  and  Herbaceous  Backson--now  know  what
Christopher Robin does in the mornings.






    BY the time it came to the edge of the  Forest  the  stream
had  grown  up,  so  that  it  was  almost  a river, and, being
grown-up, it did not run and jump and sparkle along as it  used
to  do  when it was younger, but moved more slowly. For it knew
now where it was going, and it said to  itself,  "There  is  no
hurry. We shall get there some day." But all the little streams
higher  up  in  the  Forest  went  this  way and that, quickly,
eagerly, having so much to find out before it was too late.
        There was a broad track, almost as  broad  as  a  road,
leading  from  the  Outland  to the Forest, but before it could
come to the Forest, it had to cross this river.  So,  where  it
crossed,  there was a wooden bridge, almost as broad as a road,
with wooden rails on each side of it. Christopher  Robin  could
just  get  his chin on to the top rail, if he wanted to, but it
was more fun to stand on the bottom rail, so that he could lean
right over, and watch the river slipping  slowly  away  beneath
him. Pooh could get his chin on to the bottom rail he if wanted
to,  but it was more fun to lie down and get his head under it,
and watch the river slipping slowly away beneath him. And  this
was  the only way in which Piglet and Roo could watch the river
at all, because they were too small to reach the  bottom  rail.
So  they  would lie down and watch it . . . and it slipped away
very slowly, being in no hurry to get there.
        One day, when Pooh was walking towards this bridge,  he
was  trying  to  make  up  a  piece  of poetry about fir-cones,
because there they were, lying about on each side of  him,  and
he  felt  singy.  So he picked a fir-cone up, and looked at it,
and said to  himself,  "This  is  a  very  good  fir-cone,  and
something  ought  to  rhyme  to  it."  But he couldn't think of
anything. And then this came into his head suddenly:

                          Here is a myst'ry
                    About a little fir-tree.
                    Owl says it's his tree,
                    And Kanga says it's her tree.

        "Which doesn't make sense," said Pooh,  "because  Kanga
doesn't live in a tree."
        He  had  just come to the bridge; and not looking where
he was going, he  tripped  over  something,  and  the  fir-cone
jerked out of his paw into the river.
        "Bother,"  said  Pooh,  as  it floated slowly under the
bridge, and he went back to get another fir-cone  which  had  a
rhyme to it. But then he thought that he would just look at the
river instead, because it was a peaceful sort of day, so he lay
down and looked at it, and it slipped slowly away beneath him .
. . and suddenly, there was his fir-cone slipping away too.
        "That's  funny,"  said Pooh. "I dropped it on the other
side," said Pooh, "and it came out on this side! I wonder if it
would do it again?" And he went back for some more fir-cones.
        It did. It kept on doing it. Then he dropped two in  at
once, and leant over the bridge to see which of them would come
out  first; and one of them did; but as they were both the same
size, he didn't know if it was the one which he wanted to  win,
or  the  other one. So the next time he dropped one big one and
one little one, and the big one came out first, which was  what
he  had  said  it  would  do, and the little one came out last,
which was what he had said it would do, so he had won twice . .
. and when he went home for tea, he had won thirty-six and lost
twenty-eight, which meant that he was-- that he had--well,  you
take  twenty-eight  from  thirty-six,  and  that's what he was.
Instead of the other way round.
        And  that  was  the  beginning  of  the   game   called
Poohsticks,  which  Pooh invented, and which he and his friends
used to play on the edge of the Forest. But  they  played  with
sticks instead of fir-cones, because they were easier to mark.
        Now one day Pooh and Piglet and Rabbit and Roo were all
playing Poohsticks  together.  They had dropped their sticks in
when Rabbit said "Go!" and then they had hurried across to  the
other  side  of  the bridge, and now they were all leaning over
the edge, waiting to see whose stick would come out first.  But
it was a long time coming, because the river was very lazy that
day,  and  hardly seemed to mind if it didn't ever get there at
all.
        "I can  see  mine!"  cried  Roo.  "No,  I  can't,  it's
something  else.  Can  you see yours, Piglet? I thought I could
see mine, but I couldn't. There it is! No, it  isn't.  Can  you
see yours, Pooh?"
        "No," said Pooh.
        "I  expect  my  stick's  stuck,"  said Roo. "Rabbit, my
stick's stuck. Is your stick stuck, Piglet?"
        "They always take longer than you think," said Rabbit.
        "How long do you think they'll take?" asked Roo.
        "I can see yours, Piglet," said Pooh suddenly.
        "Mine's a sort of greyish one," said Piglet, not daring
to lean too far over in case he fell in.
        "Yes, that's what I can see. It's coming over on to  my
side."
        Rabbit  leant  over further than ever, looking for his,
and Roo wriggled up and down,  calling  out  "Come  on,  stick!
Stick,  stick,  stick!" and Piglet got very excited because his
was the only one which had been seen, and that  meant  that  he
was winning. "It's coming!" said Pooh.
        "Are you sure it's mine?" squeaked Piglet excitedly.
        "Yes, because it's grey. A big grey one. Here it comes!
A very--big--grey---- Oh, no, it isn't, it's Eeyore."
        And out floated Eeyore.



        "Eeyore!" cried everybody.
        Looking very calm, very dignified, with his legs in the
air, came Eeyore from beneath the bridge.
        "It's Eeyore!" cried Roo, terribly excited.
        "Is  that  so?"  said  Eeyore,  getting  caught up by a
little  eddy,  and  turning  slowly  round  three   times.   "I
wondered."
        "I didn't know you were playing," said Roo.
        "I'm not," said Eeyore.
        "Eeyore, what are you doing there?" said Rabbit.
        "I'll  give you three guesses, Rabbit. Digging holes in
the ground? Wrong. Leaping from branch to  branch  of  a  young
oak-tree?  Wrong.  Waiting  for  somebody to help me out of the
river? Right. Give  Rabbit  time,  and  he'll  always  get  the
answer."
        "But,  Eeyore,"  said Pooh in distress, "what can we--I
mean, how shall we--do you think if we--"
        "Yes," said Eeyore. "One of those  would  be  just  the
thing. Thank you, Pooh."
        "He's going round and round," said Roo, much impressed.
        "And why not?" said Eeyore coldly.
        "I can swim too," said Roo proudly.
        "Not  round  and  round,"  said Eeyore. "It's much more
difficult. I didn't want to come swimming at  all  to-day,"  he
went  on,  revolving  slowly.  "But  if,  when  in, I decide to
practise a slight circular  movement  from  right  to  left--or
perhaps  I  should say," he added, as he got into another eddy,
"from left to right, just as it happens to occur to me,  it  is
nobody's business but my own."
        There was a moment's silence while everybody thought.
        "I've  got  a  sort of idea," said Pooh at last, "but I
don't suppose it's a very good one."
        "I don't suppose it is either," said Eeyore.
        "Go on, Pooh," said Rabbit. "Let's have it."
        "Well, if we threw stones and things into the river  on
one  side of Eeyore, the stones would make waves, and the waves
would wash him to the other side."
        "That's a very good idea," said Rabbit, and Pooh looked
happy again.
        "Very," said Eeyore.
        "When I want to be washed, Pooh, I'll let you know."
        "Supposing  we  hit  him  by  mistake?"   said   Piglet
anxiously.
        "Or  supposing you missed him by mistake," said Eeyore.
"Think of all the possibilities, Piglet, before you settle down
to enjoy yourselves."
        But Pooh had got the biggest stone he could carry,  and
was leaning over the bridge, holding it in his paws.
        "I'm  not  throwing  it,  I'm  dropping it, Eeyore," he
explained. "And then I can't miss--I  mean  I  can't  hit  you.
Could  you  stop turning round for a moment, because it muddles
me rather?"
        "No," said Eeyore. "I like turning round."
        Rabbit began to feel that it was time he took command.
        "Now, Pooh," he said, "when I say 'Now!' you  can  drop
it. Eeyore, when I say 'Now!' Pooh will drop his stone."
        "Thank  you  very  much,  Rabbit,  but I expect I shall
know."
        "Are you ready, Pooh? Piglet, give Pooh a  little  more
room. Get back a bit there, Roo. Are you ready?"
        "No," said Eeyore.
        "Now!" said Rabbit.
        Pooh  dropped  his  stone. There was a loud splash, and
Eeyore disappeared....
        It was an  anxious  moment  for  the  watchers  on  the
bridge.  They  looked  and  looked  . . . and even the sight of
Piglet's stick coming out a little in front of Rabbit's  didn't
cheer  them  up  as  much as you would have expected. And then,
just as Pooh was beginning to think that he  must  have  chosen
the  wrong  stone  or  the wrong river or the wrong day for his
Idea, something grey showed for a moment by the river bank .  .
.  and it got slowly bigger and bigger . . . and at last it was
Eeyore coming, out.
        With a shout they rushed off the bridge, and pushed and
pulled at him; and soon he was standing among them again on dry
land.
        "Oh, Eeyore, you are wet!" said Piglet, feeling him.
        Eeyore shook himself, and asked somebody to explain  to
Piglet what happened when you had been inside a river for quite
a long time.
        "Well done, Pooh," said Rabbit kindly. "That was a good
idea of ours."
        "What was?" asked Eeyore.
        "Hooshing you to the bank like that."
        "Hooshing  me?"  said Eeyore in surprise. "Hooshing me?
You didn't think I was hooshed, did you? I dived. Pooh  dropped
a  large stone on me, and so as not to be struck heavily on the
chest, I dived and swam to the bank."
        "You didn't really," whispered Piglet to Pooh, so as to
comfort him.
        "I didn't think I did," said Pooh anxiously.
        "It's just Eeyore," said Piglet. "I thought  your  Idea
was a very good Idea."
        Pooh  began  to feel a little more comfortable, because
when you are a Bear of Very Little  Brain,  and  you  Think  of
Things,  you  find  sometimes  that  a  Thing which seemed very
Thingish inside you is quite different when it  gets  out  into
the  open  and  has  other  people  looking at it. And, anyhow,
Eeyore was in the river, and now he wasn't, so he  hadn't  done
any harm.
        "How  did  you  fall  in,  Eeyore?" asked Rabbit, as he
dried him with Piglet's handkerchief.
        "I didn't," said Eeyore.
        "But how--"
        "I was BOUNCED," said Eeyore.
        "Oo," said Roo excitedly, "did somebody push you?"
        "Somebody BOUNCED me. I was just thinking by  the  side
of   the   river--thinking,  if  any  of  you  know  what  that
means--when I received a loud BOUNCE."
        "Oh, Eeyore!" said everybody.
        "Are you sure you didn't slip?" asked Rabbit wisely.
        "Of  course  I  slipped.  If  you're  standing  on  the
slippery  bank of a river, and somebody BOUNCES you loudly from
behind, you slip. What did you think I did?"
        "But who did it?" asked Roo.
        Eeyore didn't answer.
        "I expect it was Tigger," said Piglet nervously.
        "But, Eeyore,"  said  Pooh,  "was  it  a  Joke,  or  an
Accident? I mean--"
        "I didn't stop to ask, Pooh. Even at the very bottom of
the river  I  didn't  stop  to say to myself, 'Is this a Hearty
Joke, or is it the Merest Accident?'  I  just  floated  to  the
surface,  and  said  to  myself, 'It's wet.' If you know what I
mean."
        "And where was Tigger?" asked Rabbit.
        Before Eeyore could answer,  there  was  a  loud  noise
behind them, and through the hedge came Tigger himself.
        "Hallo, everybody," said Tigger cheerfully.
        "Hallo, Tigger," said Roo.
        Rabbit became very important suddenly.
        "Tigger," he said solemnly, "what happened just now?"
        "Just when?" said Tigger a little uncomfortably.
        "When you bounced Eeyore into the river."
        "I didn't bounce him."
        "You bounced me," said Eeyore gruffly.
        "I  didn't  really. I had a cough, and I happened to be
behind Eeyore, and I said 'Grrrr--oppp--ptschschschz.'"
        "Why?" said Rabbit, helping Piglet up, and dusting him.
"It's all right, Piglet."
        "It took me by surprise," said Piglet nervously.
        "That's what I call  bouncing,"  said  Eeyore.  "Taking
people  by surprise. Very unpleasant habit. I don't mind Tigger
being in the Forest," he went on, "because it's a large Forest,
and there's plenty of room to bounce in it. But I don't see why
he should come into my little corner of it, and  bounce  there.
It  isn't  as  if  there  was  anything very wonderful about my
little corner. Of course for people who like  cold,  wet,  ugly
bits  it is something rather special, but otherwise it's just a
corner, and if anybody feels bouncy "
        "I didn't bounce, I coughed," said Tigger crossly.
        "Bouncy or coffy, it's all the same at  the  bottom  of
the river."
        "Well,"  said  Rabbit,  "all I can say Is--well, here's
Christopher Robin, so he can say it."
        Christopher Robin came down  from  the  Forest  to  the
bridge,  feeling  all  sunny and careless, and just as if twice
nineteen didn't matter a bit, as it  didn't  on  such  a  happy
afternoon,  and  he thought that if he stood on the bottom rail
of the bridge, and leant over, and watched the  river  slipping
slowly away beneath him, then he would suddenly know everything
that  there was to be known, and he would be able to tell Pooh,
who wasn't quite sure about some of it. Rut when he got to  the
bridge  and  saw  all  the  animals there, then he knew that it
wasn't that kind of afternoon, but the  other  kind,  when  you
wanted to do something.
        "It's  like  this,  Christopher  Robin,"  began Rabbit.
"Tigger--"
        "No, I didn't," said Tigger.
        "Well, anyhow, there I was," said Eeyore.
        "But I don't think he meant to," said Pooh.
        "He just is bouncy," said Piglet, "and  he  can't  help
it."
        "Try  bouncing  me, Tigger," said Roo eagerly. "Eeyore,
Tigger's going to try me. Piglet, do you think--"
        "Yes, yes," said Rabbit, "we don't all want to speak at
once. The point is, what does  Christopher  Robin  think  about
it?"
        "All I did was I coughed," said Tigger.
        "He bounced," said Eeyore.
        "Well, I sort of boffed," said Tigger.
        "Hush!"  said  Rabbit,  holding  up  his  paw what does
Christopher Robin think about it all? That's the point."
        "Well," said Christopher Robin, not quite sure what  it
was all about, "I think--"
        "Yes?" said everybody.
        "I think we all ought to play Poohsticks.!"
        So  they  did.  And  Eeyore,  who  had  never played it
before, won more times than  anybody  else;  and  Roo  fell  in
twice,  the  first  time  by  accident  and  the second time on
purpose, because he suddenly saw Kanga coming from the  Forest,
and  he knew he'd have to go to bed anyhow. So then Rabbit said
he'd go with them; and Tigger and  Eeyore  went  off  together,
because  Eeyore wanted to tell Tigger How to Win at Poohsticks,
which you do by letting your stick drop in a  twitchy  sort  of
way,  if  you  understand  what I mean, Tigger; and Christopher
Robin  and  Pooh  and  Piglet  were  left  on  the  bridge   by
themselves.
        For  a long time they looked at the river beneath them,
saying nothing, and the river said nothing  too,  for  it  felt
very quiet and peaceful on this summer afternoon.
        "Tigger is all right really," said Piglet lazily.
        "Of course he is," said Christopher Robin.
        "Everybody  is  really,"  said  Pooh.  "That's  what  I
think," said Pooh. "But I don't suppose I'm right," he said.
        "Of course you are," said Christopher Robin.






    ONE day Rabbit and Piglet were sitting outside Pooh's front
door listening to Rabbit, and Pooh was sitting  with  them.  It
was  a  drowsy  summer  afternoon,  and  the Forest was full of
gentle sounds, which all seemed to be saying  to  Pooh,  "Don't
listen  to  Rabbit, listen to me." So he got into a comfortable
position for not listening to Rabbit, and from time to time  he
opened  his eyes to say "Ah!" and then closed them again to say
"True," and from time to time Rabbit  said,  "You  see  what  I
mean,  Piglet  " very earnestly, and Piglet nodded earnestly to
show that he did.
        "In fact," said Rabbit, coming to  the  end  of  it  at
last,  "Tigger's  getting  so Bouncy nowadays that it's time we
taught him a lesson. Don't you think so, Piglet?"
        Piglet said that Tigger was very Bouncy,  and  that  if
they could think of a way of unbouncing him, it would be a Very
Good  Idea.  "Just what I feel," said Rabbit. "What do you say,
Pooh?"
        Pooh opened his eyes with a jerk and said, "Extremely."
        "Extremely what?" asked Rabbit.
        "What you were saying," said Pooh. "Undoubtably."
        Piglet gave Pooh a stiffening sort of nudge, and  Pooh,
who  felt  more  and  more  that  he was somewhere else, got up
slowly and began to look for himself.
        "But how shall we do it?" asked Piglet. "What sort of a
lesson, Rabbit?"
        "That's the point," said Rabbit.
        The word "lesson" came back to Pooh as one he had heard
before somewhere.
        "There's  a  thing   called   Twy-stymes,"   he   said.
"Christopher  Robin  tried  to  teach  it  to  me  once, but it
didn't."
        "What didn't?" said Rabbit.
        "Didn't what?" said Piglet
        Pooh shook his head.
        "I don't know," he said. "It just didn't. What  are  we
talking about?"
        "Pooh,"  said  Piglet  reproachfully, "haven't you been
listening to what Rabbit was saying?"
        "I listened, but I had a small piece  of  fluff  in  my
ear. Could you say it again, please, Rabbit?"
        Rabbit  never  minded  saying things again, so he asked
where he should begin from; and when Pooh  had  said  from  the
moment when the fluff got in his ear, and Rabbit had asked when
that  was,  and  Pooh had said he didn't know because he hadn't
heard properly, Piglet settled it all by saying that what  they
were  trying to do was, they were just trying to think of a way
to get the bounces out of  Tigger,  because  however  much  you
liked him, you couldn't deny it, he did bounce.
        "Oh, I see," said Pooh.
        "There's too much of him," said Rabbit, "that's what it
comes to."
        Pooh  tried  to  think,  and  all he could think of was
something which didn't help  at  all.  So  he  hummed  it  very
quietly to himself.

                      If Rabbit
                Was bigger
                And fatter
                And stronger,
                Or bigger
                Than Tigger,
                If Tigger was smaller,
                Then Tigger's bad habit
                Of bouncing at Rabbit
                Would matter
                No longer,
                If Rabbit
                Was taller.

        "What was Pooh saying?" asked Rabbit. "Any good?"
        "No," said Pooh sadly. "No good."
        "Well, I've got an idea," said Rabbit, "and here it is.
We take Tigger  for  a long explore, somewhere where he's never
been, and we lose him there,  and  next  morning  we  find  him
again,   and--mark   my  words--he'll  be  a  different  Tigger
altogether."
        "Why?" said Pooh.
        "Because he'll be a Humble Tigger. Because he'll  be  a
Sad  Tigger,  a Melancholy Tigger, a Small and Sorry Tigger, an
Oh-Rabbit-I-am-glad-to-see-you Tigger. That's why."
        "Will he be glad to see me and Piglet, too?"
        "Of course."
        "That's good," said Pooh.
        "I should hate him to go on  being  Sad,"  said  Piglet
doubtfully.
        "Tiggers  never  go  on  being  Sad," explained Rabbit.
"They get over it with Astonishing Rapidity. I asked Owl,  just
to make sure, and he said that that's what they always get over
it  with. But if we can make Tigger feel Small and Sad just for
five minutes, we shall have done a good deed."
        "Would Christopher Robin think so?" asked Piglet.
        "Yes," said Rabbit. "He'd say 'You've done a good deed,
Piglet. I would have done it myself,  only  I  happened  to  be
doing something else. Thank you, Piglet.' And Pooh, of course."
        Piglet  felt  very  glad about this, and he saw at once
that what they were going to do to Tigger was a good  thing  to
do,  and  as  Pooh  and Rabbit were doing it with him, it was a
thing which even a Very Small  Animal  could  wake  up  in  the
morning  and  be  comfortable about doing. So the only question
was, where should they lose Tigger?
        "We'll take  him  to  the  North  Pole,"  said  Rabbit,
"because it was a very long explore finding it, so it will be a
very long explore for Tigger un-finding it again."
        It  was  now  Pooh's turn to feel very glad, because it
was he who had first found the North Pole, and  when  they  got
there,  Tigger  would  see  a notice which said, "Discovered by
Pooh, Pooh found it," and then Tigger would know, which perhaps
he didn't now, the sort of Bear Pooh was. That sort of Bear.
        So it was arranged that they should start next morning,
and that Rabbit, who lived  near  Kanga  and  Roo  and  Tigger,
should  now go home and ask Tigger what he was doing to-morrow,
because if he wasn't doing anything, what about coming  for  an
explore  and getting Pooh and Piglet to come too? And if Tigger
said "Yes" that would be all right, and if he said "No "
        "He won't," said Rabbit. "Leave it to me." And he  went
off busily.
        The  next  day  was  quite  a different day. Instead of
being hot and sunny, it was cold and misty.  Pooh  didn't  mind
for  himself,  but  when  he  thought of all the honey the bees
wouldn't be making, a cold and misty day always made  him  feel
sorry  for them. He said so to Piglet when Piglet came to fetch
him, and Piglet said that he wasn't thinking of that  so  much,
but  of  how  cold and miserable it would be being lost all day
and night on the top of the Forest. But when he  and  Pooh  had
got  to  Rabbit's  house,  Rabbit  said it was just the day for
them, because Tigger always bounced on ahead of everybody,  and
as  soon  as  he got out of sight, they would hurry away in the
other direction, and he would never see them again.
        "Not never?" said Piglet.
        "Well, not until we find him again, Piglet.  To-morrow,
or whenever it is. Come on. He's waiting for us."
        When they got to Kanga's house, they found that Roo was
waiting too,  being  a  great friend of Tigger's, which made it
Awkward; but Rabbit whispered "Leave this to me" behind his paw
to Pooh, and went up to Kanga.
        "I don't think Roo had  better  come,"  he  said.  "Not
to-day."
        "Why   not?"  said  Roo,  who  wasn't  supposed  to  be
listening.
        "Nasty cold day," said Rabbit, shaking his  head.  "And
you were coughing this morning."
        "How do you know?" asked Roo indignantly.
        "Oh, Roo, you never told me," said Kanga reproachfully.
        "It  was  a biscuit cough," said Roo, "not one you tell
about."
        "I think not to-day, dear. Another day."
        "To-morrow?" said Roo hopefully.
        "We'll see," said Kanga.
        "You're always seeing, and nothing ever happens,"  said
Roo sadly.
        "Nobody  could  see  on  a  day  like  this, Roo," said
Rabbit. "I don't expect we shall get very far,  and  then  this
afternoon  we'll  all--we'll all-- we'll--ah, Tigger, there you
are. Come on. Goodbye,  Roo!  This  afternoon  we'll--come  on,
Pooh! All ready? That's right. Come on."
        So  they  went.  At  first  Pooh  and Rabbit and Piglet
walked together, and Tigger ran  round  them  in  circles,  and
then,  when  the  path  got  narrower,  Rabbit, Piglet and Pooh
walked one after another, and Tigger ran round them in oblongs,
and by-and-by, when the gorse got very prickly on each side  of
the  path,  Tigger  ran  up  and  down  in  front  of them, and
sometimes he bounced into Rabbit and sometimes he  didn't.  And
as  they  got higher, the mist got thicker, so that Tigger kept
disappearing, and then when you thought he wasn't there,  there
he was again, saying "I say, come on," and before you could say
anything, there he wasn't.
        Rabbit turned round and nudged Piglet. "The next time,"
he said. "Tell Pooh."
        "The next time," said Piglet to Pooh.
        "The next what?" said Pooh to Piglet.
        Tigger  appeared  suddenly,  bounced  into  Rabbit, and
disappeared again. "Now!" said Rabbit. He jumped into a  hollow
by  the side of the path, and Pooh and Piglet jumped after him.
They crouched in the bracken, listening. The  Forest  was  very
silent  when  you  stopped  and  listened to it. They could see
nothing and hear nothing.
        "H'sh!" said Rabbit.
        "I am," said Pooh.
        There was a pattering noise . . . then silence again.
        "Hallo!" said Tigger, and he sounded so close  suddenly
that  Piglet would have jumped if Pooh hadn't accidentally been
sitting on most of him.
        "Where are you?" called Tigger.
        Rabbit nudged Pooh, and Pooh looked about for Piglet to
nudge, but couldn't find him, and Piglet went on breathing  wet
bracken  as  quietly  as  he  could,  and  felt  very brave and
excited.
        "That's funny," said Tigger.
        There was a moment's silence, and then they  heard  him
pattering off again. For a little longer they waited, until the
Forest  had become so still that it almost frightened them, and
then Rabbit got up and stretched himself.
        "Well?" he whispered proudly. "There we are I Just as I
said."
        "I've been thinking," said Pooh, "and I think "
        "No," said Rabbit. "Don't. Run. Come on." And they  all
hurried off, Rabbit leading the way.
        "Now,"  said  Rabbit, after they had gone a little way,
"we can talk. What were you going to say, Pooh?"
        "Nothing much. Why are we going along here?"
        "Because it's the way home."
        "Oh!" said Pooh.
        "I  think  it's  more  to  the  right,"   said   Piglet
nervously. "What do you think, Pooh?"
        Pooh  looked  at his two paws. He knew that one of them
was the right, and he knew that when you had decided which  one
of  them was the right, then the other one was the left, but he
never could remember how to begin.
        "Well," he said slowly.
        "Come on," said Rabbit. "I know it's this way."
        They went on. Ten minutes later they stopped again.
        "It's very silly,"  said  Rabbit,  "but  just  for  the
moment I-- Ah, of course. Come on.". . .
        "Here  we  are,"  said  Rabbit  ten minutes later. "No,
we're not.". . .
        "Now," said Rabbit ten minutes later, "I think we ought
to be getting--or are we a little bit more to the right than  I
thought?". . .
        "It's  a  funny  thing," said Rabbit ten minutes later,
"how everything, looks the same in a mist. Have you noticed it,
Pooh?"
        Pooh said that he had.
        "Lucky we know the Forest so  well,  or  we  might  get
lost," said Rabbit half an hour later, and he gave the careless
laugh  which you give when you know the Forest so well that you
can't get lost.
        Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
        "Pooh!" he whispered.
        "Yes, Piglet?"
        "Nothing," said Piglet,  taking  Pooh's  paw.  "I  just
wanted to be sure of you."

        When  Tigger  had  finished  waiting  for the others to
catch him up, and they hadn't, and when he  had  got  tired  of
having  nobody to say, "I say, come on" to, he thought he would
go home. So he trotted back; and the  first  thing  Kanga  said
when  she  saw  him was, "There's a good Tigger. You're just in
time for your Strengthening Medicine," and she  poured  it  out
for  him.  Roo  said  proudly,  "I've  had  mine,"  and  Tigger
swallowed his and said, "So have I," and then he and Roo pushed
each other about in a friendly  way,  and  Tigger  accidentally
knocked   over   one   or  two  chairs  by  accident,  and  Roo
accidentally knocked over one on purpose, and Kanga said,  "Now
then, run along."
        "Where shall we run along to?" asked Roo.
        "You  can  go  and  collect some fircones for me," said
Kanga, giving them a basket.



        So they went to the Six Pine Trees, and threw  fircones
at  each other until they had forgotten what they came for, and
they left the basket under the trees and went back  to  dinner.
And  it was just as they were finishing dinner that Christopher
Robin put his head in at the door.
        "Where's Pooh?" he asked.
        "Tigger  dear,  where's  Pooh?"  said   Kanga.   Tigger
explained  what  had  happened  at  the  same time that Roo was
explaining about his Biscuit Cough and Kanga was  telling  them
not  both  to  talk  at  once,  so  it  was  some  time  before
Christopher Robin guessed that Pooh and Piglet and Rabbit  were
all lost in the mist on the top of the Forest.
        "It's a funny thing about Tiggers," whispered Tigger to
Roo, "how Tiggers never get lost."
        "Why don't they, Tigger?"
        "They  just  don't,"  explained  Tigger. "That's how it
is."
        "Well," said Christopher Robin, "we shall  have  to  go
and find them, that's all. Come on, Tigger."
        "I shall have to go and find them," explained Tigger to
Roo.
        "May I find them too?" asked Roo eagerly.
        "I think not to-day, dear," said Kanga. "Another day."
        "Well, if they're lost to-morrow, may I find them?"
        "We'll  see,"  said  Kanga, and Roo, who knew what that
meant, went into a corner and practised jumping out at himself,
partly because he wanted to practise this, and  partly  because
he  didn't  want  Christopher Robin and Tigger to think that he
minded when they went off without him.

        "The fact is,"  said  Rabbit,  "we've  missed  our  way
somehow."
        They  were having a rest in a small sand-pit on the top
of the Forest. Pooh was getting rather tired of that  sand-pit,
and  suspected  it  of  following them about, because whichever
direction they started in, they always ended up at it, and each
time, as  it  came  through  the  mist  at  them,  Rabbit  said
triumphantly,  "now  I know where we are!" and Pooh said sadly,
"So do I," and Piglet said nothing. He had tried  to  think  of
something  to  say,  but  the only thing he could think of was,
"Help, help!" and it seemed silly to say that, when he had Pooh
and Rabbit with him.
        "Well," said Rabbit, after  a  long  silence  in  which
nobody  thanked  him  for the nice walk they were having, "we'd
better get on, I
    suppose. Which way shall we try?"
        "How would it be," said Pooh slowly, "if,  as  soon  as
we're out of sight of this Pit, we try to find it again?"
        "What's the good of that?" said Rabbit.
        "Well,"  said  Pooh,  "we keep looking for Home and not
finding it, so I thought that if we looked for this  Pit,  we'd
be  sure  not  to find it, which would be a Good Thing, because
then we might find something that we weren't looking for, which
might be just what we were looking for, really."
        "I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit.
        "No," said Pooh humbly, "there  isn't.  But  there  was
going  to be when I began it. It's just that something happened
to it on the way."
        "If I walked away from this Pit, and then  walked  back
to it, of course I should find it."
        "Well,  I  thought perhaps you wouldn't," said Pooh. "I
just thought."
        "Try," said Piglet suddenly. "We'll wait here for you."
        Rabbit gave a laugh to show how silly Piglet  was,  and
walked  into  the  mist.  After he had gone a hundred yards, he
turned and walked back again
    . . . and after Pooh and Piglet had waited  twenty  minutes
for him, Pooh got up.
        "I  just  thought," said Pooh. "Now then, Piglet, let's
go home."
        "But, Pooh," cried Piglet, all excited,  "do  you  know
the way?"
        "No," said Pooh. "But there are twelve pots of honey in
my cupboard,  and  they've  been  calling  to  me  for hours. I
couldn't hear them properly before, because Rabbit would  talk,
but  if nobody says anything except those twelve pots, I think,
Piglet, I shall know where they are calling from. Come on."
        They walked off together; and for a  long  time  Piglet
said  nothing,  so  as  not  to  interrupt  the  pots; and then
suddenly he made a squeaky noise . . . and an oo-noise  .  .  .
because  now he began to know where he was; but he still didn't
dare to say so out loud, in case he wasn't. And  just  when  he
was  getting  so  sure of himself that it didn't matter whether
the pots went on calling or not, there  was  a  shout  from  in
front of them, and out of the mist came Christopher Robin.
        "Oh, there you are," said Christopher Robin carelessly,
trying to pretend that he hadn't been Anxious.
        "Here we are," said Pooh.
        "Where's Rabbit?"
        "I don't know," said Pooh.
        "Oh--well,  I expect Tigger will find him. He's sort of
looking for you all."
        "Well," said Pooh, "I've got to go home for  something,
and so has Piglet, because we haven't had it yet, and "
        "I'll come and watch you," said Christopher Robin.
        So  he went home with Pooh, and watched him for quite a
long time... and all the  time  he  was  watching,  Tigger  was
tearing round the Forest
    making  loud  yapping noises for Rabbit. And at last a very
Small and Sorry Rabbit heard  him.  And  the  Small  and  Sorry
Rabbit  rushed  through  the mist at the noise, and it suddenly
turned into Tigger; a friendly Tigger, a Grand Tigger, a  Large
and Helpful Tigger, a Tigger who bounced, if he bounced at all,
in just the beautiful way a Tigger ought to bounce.
        "Oh, Tigger, I am glad to see you," cried Rabbit.






    HALF-WAY between Pooh's house  and  Piglet's  house  was  a
Thoughtful  Spot where they met sometimes when they had decided
to go and see each
    other, and as it was warm and out of the  wind  they  would
sit  down  there for a little and wonder what they would do now
that they had seen each other. One day when  they  had  decided
not  to  do  anything,  Pooh  made up a verse about it, so that
everybody should know what the place was for.

                      This warm and sunny Spot
                  Belongs to Pooh.
                And here he wonders what
                  He's going to do.
                Oh, bother, I forgot--
                  It's Piglet's too.

        Now one autumn morning when the wind had blown all  the
leaves  off  the trees in the night, and was trying to blow the
branches off, Pooh and Piglet were sitting  in  the  Thoughtful
Spot and wondering.
        "What I think," said Pooh, "is I think we'll go to Pooh
Corner and see Eeyore, because perhaps his house has been blown
down, and perhaps he'd like us to build it again."
        "What  I  think," said Piglet, "is I think we'll go and
see Christopher Robin, only he won't be there, so we can't."
        "Let's go and see everybody," said Pooh. "Because  when
you've  been walking in the wind for miles, and you suddenly go
into somebody's house, and he says, 'Hallo, Pooh,  you're  just
in time for a little smackerel of something,' and you are, then
it's what I call a Friendly Day."
        Piglet  thought  that  they  ought to have a Reason for
going to see everybody, like Looking for Small or Organizing an
Expotition, if Pooh could think of something
        Pooh could.
        "We'll go because it's Thursday," he said,  "and  we'll
go to wish everybody a Very Happy Thursday. Come on, Piglet."



        They  got  up;  and  when  Piglet  had  sat down again,
because he didn't know the wind was so  strong,  and  had  been
helped  up by Pooh, they started off. They went to Pooh's house
first, and luckily Pooh was at home just as they got there,  so
he  asked  them in, and they had some, and then they went on to
Kanga's house, holding on to each other,  and  shouting  "Isn't
it?"  and  "What?"  and "I can't hear." By the time they got to
Kanga's house they were so buffeted that they stayed to  lunch.
Just at first it seemed rather cold outside afterwards, so they
pushed on to Rabbit's as quickly as they could.
        "We've  come  to  wish you a Very Happy Thursday," said
Pooh, when he had gone in and out once or twice  just  to  make
sure that he could get
    out again.
        "Why,  what's  going  to  happen  on  Thursday?"  asked
Rabbit, and when Pooh had explained, and Rabbit, whose life was
made up of Important
    Things, said,  "Oh,  I  thought  you'd  really  come  about
something," they sat down for a little . . . and by-and-by Pooh
and Piglet went on again. The wind was behind them now, so they
didn't have to shout.
        "Rabbit's clever," said Pooh thoughtfully.
        "Yes," said Piglet, "Rabbit's clever."
        "And he has Brain."
        "Yes," said Piglet, "Rabbit has Brain."
        There was a long silence.
        "I  suppose,"  said  Pooh,  "that  that's  why he never
understands anything."
        Christopher Robin was at home by this time, because  it
was  the  afternoon,  and  he was so glad to see them that they
stayed there until very nearly tea-time, and then  they  had  a
Very  Nearly tea, which is one you forget about afterwards, and
hurried on to Pooh Corner, so as to see Eeyore  before  it  was
too late to have a Proper Tea with Owl.
        "Hallo, Eeyore," they called out cheerfully.
        "Ah!" said Eeyore. "Lost your way?"
        "We just came to see you," said Piglet. "And to see how
your house was. Look, Pooh, it's still standing!"
        "I  know,"  said  Eeyore.  "Very odd. Somebody ought to
have come down and pushed it over."
        "We wondered whether the wind would blow it down," said
Pooh.
        "Ah, that's why nobody's bothered, I suppose. I thought
perhaps they'd forgotten."
        "Well, we're very glad to  see  you,  Eeyore,  and  now
we're going on to see Owl."
        "That's  right.  You'll like Owl. He flew past a day or
two ago and noticed me. He didn't actually say  anything,  mind
you,  but  he  knew it was me. Very friendly of him, I thought.
Encouraging."
        Pooh and Piglet  shuffled  about  a  little  and  said,
"Well, good-bye, Eeyore" as lingeringly as they could, but they
had a long way to go, and wanted to be getting on.
        "Good-bye,"  said  Eeyore.  "Mind  you  don't get blown
away, little Piglet. You'd be missed. People would say 'Where's
little Piglet been blown to?'--really wanting  to  know.  Well,
good-bye. And thank you for happening to pass me."
        "Good-bye," said Pooh and Piglet for the last time, and
they pushed on to Owl's house.
        The  wind  was  against  them  now,  and  Piglet's ears
streamed behind him like banners as he fought  his  way  along,
and  it seemed hours before he got them into the shelter of the
Hundred Acre Wood and they stood up straight again, to  listen,
a  little  nervously,  to  the  roaring  of  the gale among the
tree-tops. '
        "Supposing  a  tree  fell  down,  Pooh,  when  we  were
underneath it?"
        "Supposing it didn't," said Pooh after careful thought.
        Piglet  was  comforted  by  this, and in a little while
they were knocking and ringing very cheerfully at Owl's door.
        "Hallo, Owl," said Pooh. "I hope  we're  not  too  late
for--  I  mean, how are you, Owl? Piglet and I just came to see
how you were, because it's Thursday."
        "Sit down, Pooh, sit down, Piglet,"  said  Owl  kindly.
"Make yourselves comfortable."
        They thanked him, and made themselves as comfortable as
they could.
        "Because,   you  see,  Owl,"  said  Pooh,  "we've  been
hurrying, so as to be in time for--so as to see you  before  we
went away again."
        Owl nodded solemnly.
        "Correct me if I am wrong," he said, "but am I right in
supposing that it is a very Blusterous day outside?"
        "Very,"  said Piglet, who was quietly thawing his ears,
and wishing that he was safely back in his own house.
        "I thought so," said O-wl.  "It  was  on  just  such  a
blusterous day as this that my Uncle Robert, a portrait of whom
you see upon the wall on your right, Piglet, while returning in
the late forenoon from a-- What's that?"
        There was a loud cracking noise.
        "Look  out!"  cried  Pooh.  "Mind the clock! Out of the
way, Piglet! Piglet, I'm falling on you!"
        "Help!" cried Piglet.
        Pooh's side of the room was slowly tilting upwards  and
his  chair  began sliding down on Piglet's. The clock slithered
gently along the mantelpiece,  collecting  vases  on  the  way,
until  they  all  crashed together on to what had once been the
floor, but was now trying to see what it looked like as a wall.
Uncle Robert, who was going to be the new  hearthrug,  and  was
bringing  the rest of his wall with him as carpet, met Piglet's
chair just as Piglet was expecting  to  leave  it,  and  for  a
little  while  it  became  very difficult to remember which was
really the north. When there was another loud crack
    . . . Owl's room collected itself  feverishly  .  .  .  and
there was silence.

        In  a  corner  of  the  room,  the table-cloth began to
wriggle. Then it wrapped itself into a ball and  rolled  across
the room. Then it jumped up and down once or twice, and put out
two ears. It rolled across the room again, and unwound itself.
        "Pooh," said Piglet nervously.
        "Yes?" said one of the chairs.
        "Where are we?"
        "I'm not quite sure," said the chair.
        "Are we--are we in Owl's House?"
        "I  think  so,  because we were just going to have tea,
and we hadn't had it."
        "Oh!"  said  Piglet.  "Well,  did  Owl  always  have  a
letter-box in his ceiling?"
        "Has he?"
        Yes, look.
        "I   can't,"  said  Pooh.  "I'm  face  downwards  under
something, and that, Piglet, is a very bad position for looking
at ceilings."
        "Well, he has, Pooh."
        "Perhaps he's changed  it,"  said  Pooh.  "Just  for  a
change."
        There  was  a disturbance behind the table in the other
corner of the room, and Owl was with them again.
        "Ah, Piglet," said  Owl,  looking  very  much  annoyed;
"where's Pooh?"
        "I'm not quite sure," said Pooh.
        Owl turned his voice, and frowned at as much of Pooh as
he could see.
        "Pooh," said Owl severely, "did you do that?"
        "No," said Pooh humbly. "I don't think so."
        "Then who did?"
        "I  think  it was the wind," said Piglet. "I think your
house has blown down."
        "Oh, is that it? I thought it was Pooh."
        "No," said Pooh.
        "If it was the wind," said Owl, considering the matter,
"then it wasn't Pooh's fault. No blame can be attached to him."
With these kind words he flew up to look at his new ceiling.
        "Piglet!" called Pooh in a loud whisper.
        Piglet leant down to him.
        "Yes, Pooh?"
        "What did he say was attached to me?"
        "He said he didn't blame you."
        "Oh! I thought he meant-- Oh, I see."
        "Owl," said Piglet, "come down and help Pooh." Owl, who
was admiring his letter-box, flew  down  again.  Together  they
pushed  and pulled at the arm-chair, and in a little while Pooh
came out from underneath, and was able to look round him again.
        "Well!" said Owl. "This is a nice state of things!"
        "What are we going  to  do,  Pooh?  Can  you  think  of
anything?" asked Piglet.
        "Well, I had just thought of something," said Pooh. "It
was just a little thing I thought of." And he began to sing:

                      I lay on my chest
                And I thought it best
                To pretend I was having an evening rest;
                I lay on my tum
                And I tried to hum
                But nothing particular seemed to come.
                My face was flat
                On the floor, and that
                Is all very well for an acrobat;
                But it doesn't seem fair
                To a Friendly Bear
                To stiffen him out with a basket-chair
                And a sort of sqoze
                Which grows and grows
                Is not too nice for his poor old nose,
                And a sort of squch
                Is much too much
                For  his  neck  and  his mouth and his ears and
such

        "That was all," said Pooh.
        Owl coughed in an unadmiring  sort  of  way,  and  said
that,  if Pooh was sure that was all, they could now give their
minds to the Problem of Escape.
        "Because," said Owl, "we can't go out by what  used  to
be the front door. Something's fallen on it."
        "But how else can you go out?" asked Piglet anxiously.
        "That is the Problem, Piglet, to which I am asking Pooh
to give his mind."
        Pooh  sat  on the floor which had once been a wall, and
gazed up at the ceiling which had once been another wall,  with
a  front door in it which had once been a front door, and tried
to give his mind to it.
        "Could you fly up to the letter-box with Piglet on your
back?" he asked.
        "No," said Piglet quickly. "He couldn't."
        Owl explained about the Necessary  Dorsal  Muscles.  He
had  explained  this to Pooh and Christopher Robin once before,
and had been waiting ever since for a chance to  do  it  again,
because it is a thing which you can easily explain twice before
anybody knows what you are talking about.
        "Because  you see, Owl, if we could get Piglet into the
letter-box, he  might  squeeze  through  the  place  where  the
letters come, and climb down the tree and run for help."
        Piglet  said  hurriedly that he had been getting bigger
lately, and couldn't possibly, much as he would  like  to,  and
Owl  said  that he had had his letter-box made bigger lately in
case he got bigger letters, so perhaps Piglet might, and Piglet
said, "But you said the necessary you-know-whats wouldn't," and
Owl said, "No, they won't, so it's no good thinking about  it,"
and Piglet said "Then we'd better think of something else," and
began to at once. But Pooh's mind had gone back to the day when
he  had  saved Piglet from the flood, and everybody had admired
him so much; and as that didn't often  happen,  he  thought  he
would  like  it  to  happen again. And suddenly, just as it had
come before, an idea came to him.
        "Owl," said Pooh, "I have thought of something."
        "Astute and Helpful Bear," said Owl.
        Pooh looked proud at being called a stout  and  helpful
bear,  and  said modestly that he just happened to think of it.
You tied a piece of string to Piglet, and you flew  up  to  the
letter-box  with  the other end in your beak, and you pushed it
through the wire and brought it down to the floor, and you  and
Pooh  pulled hard at this end, and Piglet went slowly up at the
other end. And there you were.
        "And there Piglet is," said Owl. "If the string doesn't
break."
        "Supposing it does?" asked Piglet,  really  wanting  to
know.
        "Then we try another piece of string."
        This was not very comforting to Piglet, because however
many pieces  of  string  they  tried  pulling up with, it would
always be the same him coming down; but still, it did seem  the
only thing to do. So with one last look back in his mind at all
the happy hours he had spent in the Forest not being, pulled up
to  the  ceiling by a piece of string, Piglet nodded bravely at
Pooh and said that it was  a  Very  Clever  pup-pup-pup  Clever
pup-pup Plan.
        "It won't break," whispered Pooh comfortingly, "because
you're a  Small  Animal,  and I'll stand underneath, and if you
save us all, it will be  a  Very  Grand  Thing  to  talk  about
afterwards,  and  perhaps  I'll make up a Song, and people will
say 'It was so grand what Piglet did  that  a  Respectful  Pooh
Song was made about it!'"
        Piglet felt much better after this, and when everything
was ready, and he found himself slowly going up to the ceiling,
he was so  proud that he would have called out "Look at Me!" if
he hadn't been afraid that Pooh and Owl would let go  of  their
end of the string and look at him.
        "Up we go!" said Pooh cheerfully.
        "The  ascent  is  proceeding  as  expected,"  said  Owl
helpfully. Soon it was over. Piglet opened the  letter-box  and
climbed  in.  Then,  having untied himself, he began to squeeze
into the slit, through which in the old days when  front  doors
were  front  doors,  many  an  unexpected  letter  that WOL had
written to himself, had come slipping.
        He squeezed and he sqoze, and then with  one  squze  he
was  out.  Happy  and  excited he turned round to squeak a last
message to the prisoners.
        "It's all right," he  called  through  the  letter-box.
"Your  tree  is  blown  right  over,  Owl, and there's a branch
across the door, but Christopher Robin and I can move  it,  and
we'll  bring a rope for Pooh, and I'll go and tell him now, and
I can climb down quite easily, I mean it's dangerous but I  can
do  it  all  right, and Christopher Robin and I will be back in
about half-an-hour. Good-bye, Pooh!"  And  without  waiting  to
hear Pooh's answering "Good-bye, and thank you, Piglet," he was
off.
        "Half-an-hour," said Owl, settling himself comfortably.
"That will just give me time to finish that story I was telling
you about my Uncle Robert
    --a  portrait  of  whom  you see underneath you. Now let me
see, where was I? Oh, yes. It was on just such a blusterous day
as this that my Uncle Robert--"
        Pooh closed his eyes.






    POOH  had  wandered  into  the  Hundred  Acre Wood, and was
standing in front of what had once been Owl's House. It  didn't
look  at  all like a house now; it looked like a tree which had
been blown down; and as soon as a house looks like that, it  is
time  you  tried to find another one. Pooh had had a Mysterious
Missage underneath his front door that morning, saying,  "I  AM
SCERCHING FOR A NEW HOUSE FOR OWL SO HAD YOU RABBIT," and while
he  was wondering what it meant, Rabbit had come in and read it
for him.
        "I'm leaving one for all the others," said Rabbit, "and
telling them what it means, and they'll all search too. I'm  in
a hurry, good-bye." And he had run off.
        Pooh  followed  slowly.  He  had something better to do
than to find a new house for Owl; he had to make up a Pooh song
about the old one. Because he had promised Piglet days and days
ago that he would, and whenever he and Piglet  had  met  since,
Piglet  didn't  actually say anything, but you knew at once why
he didn't; and if anybody mentioned Hums or Trees or String  or
Storms-in-the-Night,  Piglet's  nose  went all pink at the tip,
and he talked about something quite different in a hurried sort
of way.
        "But it isn't Easy," said Pooh to himself, as he looked
at what had once been Owl's House.  "Because  Poetry  and  Hums
aren't  things which you get, they're things which get you. And
all you can do is to go where they can find you."
        He waited hopefully . . .
        "Well," said Pooh after a long  wait,  "I  shall  begin
'Here  lies  a  tree'  because  it does, and then I'll see what
happens."
        This is what happened:

                  Here lies a tree which Owl (a bird)
              Was fond of when it stood on end,
              And Owl was talking to a friend
            Called Me (in case you hadn't heard)
            When something Oo occurred

                  For lo! the wind was blusterous
              And flattened out his favourite tree;
              And things looked bad for him and we--
            Looked bad, I mean, for he and us--
            I've never known them wuss

                  Then Piglet (PIGLET) thought a thing
              "Courage!" he said "There's always hope
              I want a thinnish piece of rope
            Or, if there isn't any, bring
            A thickish piece of string"

                  So to the letter-box he rose,
              While Pooh and Owl said "Oh!" and "Hum!"
              And where the letters always come
            (Called "LETTERS ONLY") Piglet sqoze
            His head and then his toes,

                  O gallant Piglet (PIGLET)! Ho!
              Did Piglet tremble? Did he blinch?
              No, no, he struggled inch by inch
            Through LETTERS ONLY, as I know
            Because I saw him go.

                  He ran and ran, and then he stood
              And shouted, "Help for Owl, a bird,
              And Pooh, a bear!" until he heard
            The others coming through the wood
            As quickly as they could

                 "Help-help and Rescue!" Piglet cried,
              And showed the others where to go
              [Sing ho! for Piglet (PIGLET) ho!]
            And soon the door was opened wide,
            And we were both outside !

                  Sing ho! for Piglet, ho!
            Ho!

        "So there it is," said Pooh, when he had sung  this  to
himself  three  times. "It's come different from what I thought
it would, but it's come. Now I must go and sing it to Piglet."


    I AM SCERCHING FOR A NEW HOUSE FOR OWL SO HAD YOU RABBIT.
        "What's all this?" said Eeyore.
        Rabbit explained.
        "What's the matter with his old house?"
        Rabbit explained.
        "Nobody  tells  me,"  said  Eeyore.  "Nobody  keeps  me
Informed.  I  make  it seventeen days come Friday since anybody
spoke to me."
        "It certainly isn't seventeen days--"
        "Come Friday," explained Eeyore.
        "And to-day's Saturday," said Rabbit.  "So  that  would
make it eleven days. And I was here myself a week ago."
        "Not  conversing," said Eeyore. "Not first one and then
the other. You said 'Hallo' and Flashed Past. I saw your tail a
hundred yards up the hill as I was meditating my reply.  I  had
thought  of  saying  'What?'--but,  of  course, it was then too
late."
        "Well, I was in a hurry."
        "No Give and Take," Eeyore went  on.  "No  Exchange  of
Thought.   'Hallo--What'--   I   mean,  it  gets  you  nowhere,
particularly if the other person's tail is only just  in  sight
for the second half of the conversation."
        "It's  your fault, Eeyore. You've never been to see any
of us. You just stay here in this  one  corner  of  the  Forest
waiting for the others to come to you. Why don't you go to them
sometimes?"
        Eeyore was silent for a little while, thinking.
        "There  may  be  something in what you say, Rabbit," he
said at last. "I have been neglecting you. I  must  move  about
more. I must come and go."
        "That's  right,  Eeyore.  Drop  in  on any of us at any
time, when you feel like it."
        "Thank-you, Rabbit. And if anybody says in a Loud Voice
'Bother, it's Eeyore,' I can drop out again."
        Rabbit stood on one leg for a moment.
        "Well," he said, "I must be going.  I  am  rather  busy
this morning."
        "Good-bye," said Eeyore.
        "What? Oh, good-bye. And if you happen to come across a
good house for Owl, you must let us know."
        "I will give my mind to it," said Eeyore.
        Rabbit went.

        Pooh  had  found  Piglet, and they were walking back to
the Hundred Acre Wood together.
        "Piglet," said Pooh a  little  shyly,  after  they  had
walked for some time without saying anything.
        "Yes, Pooh?"
        "Do  you  remember  when  I said that a Respectful Pooh
Song might be written about You Know What?"
        "Did you, Pooh?" said Piglet,  getting  a  little  pink
round the nose. "Oh, yes, I believe you did."
        "It's been written, Piglet."
        The  pink went slowly up Piglet's nose to his ears, and
settled there.
        "Has it, Pooh?" he asked huskily. "About-- about-- That
Time When?-- Do you mean really written?"
        "Yes, Piglet."
        The tips of Piglet's ears glowed suddenly, and he tried
to say something; but even after he had husked once  or  twice,
nothing came out. So Pooh went on:
        "There are seven verses in it."
        "Seven?"  said  Piglet  as carelessly as he could. "You
don't often get seven verses in a Hum, do you, Pooh?"
        "Never," said Pooh. "I don't  suppose  it's  ever  been
heard of before."
        "Do  the Others know yet?" asked Piglet, stopping - for
a moment to pick up a stick and throw it away.
        "No," said Pooh. "And I wondered which you  would  like
best: for me to hum it now, or to wait till we find the others,
and then hum it to all of you?" Piglet thought for a little.
        "I  think  what I'd like best, Pooh, is I'd like you to
hum it to me now-and--and then to hum it to all of us.  Because
then  Everybody would hear it, but I could say 'Oh, yes, Pooh's
told me,' and pretend not to be listening."
        So Pooh hummed it to him, all  the  seven  verses,  and
Piglet  said  nothing,  but  just  stood  and glowed. For never
before had anyone  sung  ho  for  Piglet  (PIGLET)  ho  all  by
himself.  When  it  was  over,  he wanted to ask for one of the
verses over again, but didn't quite like to. It was  the  verse
beginning  "O  gallant  Piglet,"  and  it  seemed to him a very
thoughtful way of beginning a piece of poetry.
        "Did I really do all that?" he said at last.
        "Well,"  said  Pooh,  "in   poetry--in   a   piece   of
poetry--well,  you  did it, Piglet, because the poetry says you
did. And that's how people know."
        "Oh!" said Piglet. "Because I--I thought I did blinch a
little. Just at first. And it says,  'Did  he  blinch  no  no.'
That's why."
        "You  only blinched inside," said Pooh, "and that's the
bravest way for a Very Small Animal not to  blinch  that  there
is."
        Piglet  sighed with happiness, and began to think about
himself. He was BRAVE. . . .
        When they got to Owl's old house, they found  everybody
else  there  except  Eeyore. Christopher Robin was telling them
what  to  do,  and  Rabbit  was  telling  them  again  directly
afterwards,  in  case they hadn't heard, and then they were all
doing it. They had got a rope and were pulling Owl's chairs and
pictures and things out of his old house so as to be  ready  to
put  them  into  his  new  one.  Kanga was down below tying the
things on, and calling out to Owl, "You won't want  this  dirty
old  dishcloth  any more, will you, and what about this carpet,
it's all in holes," and Owl was calling back  indignantly,  "Of
course  I  do!  It's just a question of arranging the furniture
properly, and it isn't a dish-cloth, it's my shawl." Every  now
and  then  Roo  fell in and came back on the rope with the next
article, which flustered Kanga a little because she never  knew
where to look for him. So she got cross
    with  Owl  and said that his house was a Disgrace, all damp
and dirty, and it was quite time it did tumble  down.  Look  at
that horrid bunch of toadstools growing out of the corner there
! So Owl looked down, a little surprised because he didn't know
about  this,  and  then  gave  a  short  sarcastic  laugh,  and
explained that that was his sponge, and that if  people  didn't
know  a perfectly ordinary bath-sponge when they saw it, things
were coming to a pretty pass. "Well!" said Kanga, and Roo  fell
in  quickly, crying, "I must see Owl's sponge! Oh, there it is!
Oh, Owl! Owl, it isn't a sponge, it's a  spudge!  Do  you  know
what  a  spudge  is, Owl? It's when your sponge gets all--" and
Kanga said, "Roo, dear!" very quickly, because that's  not  the
way to talk to anybody who can spell TUESDAY.
        But they were all quite happy when Pooh and Piglet came
along, and  they stopped working in order to have a little rest
and listen to Pooh's new song. So then they all told  Pooh  how
good  it was, and Piglet said carelessly, It is good, isn't it?
I mean as a song."
        "And what about the new house?" asked Pooh.  "Have  you
found it, Owl?"
        "He's  found  a  name  for it," said Christopher Robin,
lazily nibbling at a piece of grass, "so now all  he  wants  is
the house."
        "I  am  calling  it this," said Owl importantly, and he
showed them what he had been making. It was a square  piece  of
board with the name of the house painted on it:
                                THE WOLERY

        It  was  at  this  exciting  moment that something came
through the trees, and bumped into Owl. The board fell  to  the
ground, and Piglet and Roo bent over it eagerly.
        "Oh. it's you," said Owl crossly.
        "Hallo,  Eeyore!"  said  Rabbit.  "There you are! Where
have you been?" Eeyore took no notice of them.
        "Good morning, Christopher  Robin,"  he  said  brushing
away  Roo  and  Piglet, and sitting down on THE WOLERY. "Are we
alone?"
        "Yes," said Christopher Robin, smiling to  himself.  "I
have been told--the news has worked through to my corner of the
Forest--the damp bit down on the right which nobody wants--that
a  certain  Person is looking for a house. I have found one for
him."
        "Ah, well done," said Rabbit kindly.
        Eeyore looked round slowly at him, and then turned back
to Christopher Robin.
        "We have been joined by something," he said in  a  loud
whisper.  "But  no  matter. We can leave it behind. If you will
come with me, Christopher Robin, I will show you the house."
        Christopher Robin jumped up.
        "Come on, Pooh," he said.
        "Come on, Tigger!" cried Roo.
        "Shall we go, Owl?" said Rabbit.
        "Wait a moment," said Owl, picking up his notice-board,
which had just come into sight again.
        Eeyore waved them back.
        "Christopher Robin and I are going for a  Short  Walk,"
he  said,  "not  a Jostle. If he likes to bring Pooh and Piglet
with him, I shall be glad of their company,  but  one  must  be
able to Breathe."
        "That's all right," said Rabbit, rather glad to be left
in charge  of  something.  "We'll go on getting the things out.
Now then, Tigger, where's that rope? What's the matter, Owl?"
        Owl who had just discovered that his  new  address  was
THE  SMEAR,  coughed  at  Eeyore sternly, but said nothing, and
Eeyore, with most of
    THE WOLERY behind him, marched off with his friends.
        So, in a little while, they came  to  the  house  which
Eeyore  had  found, and just before they came to it, Piglet was
nudging Pooh, and  Pooh  was  nudging  Piglet,  and  they  were
saying,  "It is!" and "It can't be!" and "It's really!" to each
other
        "There!" said Eeyore  proudly,  stopping  them  outside
Piglet's house. "And the name on it, and everything!"
        "Oh!"  cried  Christopher  Robin,  wondering whether to
laugh or what.
        "Just the house for Owl. Don't  you  think  so,  little
Piglet?"



        And  then  Piglet did a Noble Thing, and he did it in a
sort of dream, while he was thinking of all the wonderful words
Pooh had hummed about him.
        "Yes, it's just the house for Owl,"  he  said  grandly.
"And  I  hope  he'll  be  very happy in it." And then he gulped
twice, because he had been very happy in it himself.
        "What do you think, Christopher Robin?" asked Eeyore  a
little anxiously, feeling that something wasn't quite right.
        Christopher  Robin  had a question to ask first, and he
was wondering how to ask it.
        "Well," he said at last, "it's a very nice  house,  and
if  your  own  house is blown down, you must go somewhere else,
mustn't you, Piglet? What would you do, if your house was blown
down?"
        Before Piglet could think, Pooh answered for him.
        "He'd come and live with me," said Pooh, "wouldn't you,
Piglet?"
        Piglet squeezed his paw.
        "Thank you, Pooh," he said, "I should love to."






    CHRISTOPHER  ROBIN  was  going away. Nobody knew why he was
going; nobody knew where he was going; indeed, nobody even knew
why he knew that Christopher Robin was going away. But  somehow
or  other everybody in the Forest felt that it was happening at
last. Even Smallest-of-all, a friend-and-relation  of  Rabbit's
who  thought  he  had  once  seen Christopher Robin's foot, but
couldn't be quite sure because perhaps it was  something  else,
even  S.  of  A.  told  himself  that  Things  were going to be
Different; and Late and Early, two other friends-and-relations,
said, "Well, Early?" and "Well, Late?" to each other in such  a
hopeless  sort  of  way  that  it  really  didn't seem any good
waiting for the answer.
        One day when he felt that he couldn't wait any  longer,
Rabbit brained out a Notice, and this is what it said:

        "Notice  a  meeting of everybody will meet at the House
at Pooh Corner to pass a Rissolution By Order Keep to the  Left
Signed Rabbit."



        He  had  to write this out two or three times before he
could get the rissolution to look like what he thought  it  was
going  to  when  he began to spell it; but, when at last it was
finished, he took it round to everybody  and  read  it  out  to
them. And they all said they would come.
        "Well,"  said  Eeyore  that afternoon, when he saw them
all walking up to his house, "this is a surprise.  Am  I  asked
too?"
        "Don't  mind Eeyore," whispered Rabbit to Pooh. "I told
him all about it this morning."
        Everybody said "How-do-you-do" to  Eeyore,  and  Eeyore
said that he didn't, not to notice, and then they sat down; and
as soon as they were all sitting down, Rabbit stood up again.
        "We  all  know  why  we're  here," he said, "but I have
asked my friend Eeyore--"
        "That's Me," said Eeyore. "Grand."
        "I have asked him to Propose a Rissolution." And he sat
down again. "Now then, Eeyore," he said.
        "Don't Bustle me,"  said  Eeyore,  getting  up  slowly.
"Don't  now-then  me." He took a piece of paper from behind his
ear, and unfolded it. "Nobody knows anything  about  this,"  he
went  on. "This is a Surprise." He coughed in an important way,
and began again: "What-nots and Etceteras, before I  begin,  or
perhaps I should say, before I end, I have a piece of Poetry to
read  to  you.  Hitherto--hitherto--a  long word meaning--well,
you'll see what it means directly--hitherto, as I  was  saying,
all  the  Poetry in the Forest has been written by Pooh, a Bear
with a Pleasing Manner  but  a  Positively  Startling  Lack  of
Brain. The Poem which I am now about to read to you was written
by  Eeyore, or Myself, in a Quiet Moment. If somebody will take
Roo's bull's-eye away from him, and wake up Owl, we  shall  all
be able to enjoy it. I call it--POEM." This was it:

                      Christopher Robin is going
                At least I think he is
                Where?
                Nobody knows
                But he is going--
                I mean he goes
                (To rhyme with knows)
                Do we care ?
                (To rhyme with where)
                We do
                Very much
                (I haven't got a rhyme for that
                  "is" in the second line yet.
                Bother.)
                (Now I haven't got a rhyme for
                  bother.. Bother.)
                Those two bothers will have
                  to rhyme with each other
                Buther
                The fact is this is more difficult
                  than I thought,
                I ought--
                (Very good indeed)
                I ought
                To begin again,
                But it is easier
                To stop
                Christopher Robin, good-bye
                I
                (Good)
                I
                And all your friends
                Sends--
                I mean all your friend
                Send--
                (Very awkward this, it keeps
                  going wrong)
                Well, anyhow, we send
                Our love
                END

        "If  anybody  wants  to  clap," said Eeyore when he had
read this, "now is the time to do it."
        They all clapped.
        "Thank you," said Eeyore. "Unexpected  and  gratifying,
if a little lacking in Smack."
        "It's much better than mine," said Pooh admiringly, and
he really thought it is.



        "Well,"  explained  Eeyore  modestly,  "it was meant to
be."
        "The rissolution," said Rabbit, "is that  we  all  sign
it, and take it to Christopher Robin."
        So it was signed PooH, WOL, PIGLET, EOR, RABBIT, KANGA,
BLOT, SMUDGE,  and  they  all  went  off to Christopher Robin's
house with it.
        "Hallo, everybody," said Christopher Robin--
        "Hallo, Pooh."
        They all said "Hello," and  felt  awkward  and  unhappy
suddenly,  because  it  was a sort of goodbye they were saying,
and they didn't want to think about it. So they  stood  around,
and  waited  for  somebody  else to speak, and they nudged each
other, and said "Go on," and gradually Eeyore was nudged to the
front, and the others crowded behind him.
        "What is it, Eeyore?" asked Christopher Robin.
        Eeyore swished his tail from side to  side,  so  as  to
encourage himself, and began.
        "Christopher  Robin,"  he  said,  "we've come to say-to
give you-it's called-written by-but  we've  all--because  we've
heard,  I mean we all know--well, you see, it's--we--you--well,
that, to put it as shortly as possible,  is  what  it  is."  He
turned  round angrily on the others and said, "Everybody crowds
round so in this Forest. There's no Space. I never saw  a  more
Spreading  lot  of  animals  in  my  life, and all in the wrong
places. Can't you see that Christopher Robin wants to be alone?
I'm going." And he humped off.
        Not quite knowing why, the others  began  edging  away,
and  when  Christopher Robin had finished reading POEM, and was
looking up to say "Thank you," only Pooh was left.
        "It's  a  comforting  sort  of  thing  to  have,"  said
Christopher  Robin, folding up the paper, and putting it in his
pocket. "Come on, Pooh," and he walked off quickly.
        "Where are we going?" said Pooh,  hurrying  after  him,
and   wondering   whether   it  was  to  be  an  Explore  or  a
What-shall-I-do-about-you-know-what.
        "Nowhere," said Christopher Robin.
        So they began going there, and after they had walked  a
little way Christopher Robin said:
        "What do you like doing best in the world, Pooh?"
        "Well,"  said Pooh, "what I like best?" and then he had
to stop and think. Because although Eating  Honey  was  a  very
good  thing  to do, there was a moment just before you began to
eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't  know
what  it  was  called.  And  then  he  thought  that being with
Christopher Robin was a very  good  thing  to  do,  and  having
Piglet  near was a very friendly thing to have: and so, when he
had thought it all out, he said, "What I like best in the whole
world is Me and Piglet going to see You, and You  saying  'What
about  a  little  something?' and Me saying,' Well, I shouldn't
mind a little something, should you, Piglet,' and  it  being  a
hummy sort of day outside, and birds singing."
        "I  like that too," said Christopher Robin, "but what I
like doing best is Nothing."
        "How do you do  Nothing?"  asked  Pooh,  after  he  had
wondered for a long time.
        "Well,  it's when people call out at you just as you're
going off to do it 'What  are  you  going  to  do,  Christopher
Robin?' and you say 'Oh, nothing,' and then you go and do it."
        "Oh, I see," said Pooh.
        "This is a nothing sort of thing that we're doing now."
        "Oh, I see," said Pooh again.
        "It means just going along, listening to all the things
you can't hear, and not bothering."
        "Oh!" said Pooh.
        They   walked  on,  thinking  of  This  and  That,  and
by-and-by they came to an enchanted place on the  very  top  of
the  Forest called Galleons Lap, which is sixty-something trees
in a circle; and Christopher Robin knew that it  was  enchanted
because  nobody  had  ever  been  able  to count whether it was
sixty-three or sixty-four, not even when he  tied  a  piece  of
string   round  each  tree  after  he  had  counted  it.  Being
enchanted, its floor was not like the floor the  Forest,  gorse
and  bracken and heather, but close-set grass, quiet and smooth
and green. It was the only place in the Forest where you  could
sit  down  carelessly,  without getting up again almost at once
and looking for some where else. Sitting there they  could  see
the  whole  world  spread  out  until  it  reached the sky, and
whatever there was all the world over was with them in Galleons
Lap.
        Suddenly Christopher Robin began  to  tell  Pooh  about
some  of  the  things:  People  called  Kings  and  Queens  and
something called Factors, and a place  called  Europe,  and  an
island  in  the  middle of the sea where no ships came, and how
you make a Suction Pump (if you want to), and when Knights were
Knighted, and what  comes  from  Brazil.  And  Pooh,  his  back
against one of the sixty-something trees and his paws folded in
front  of  him, said "Oh!" and "I didn't know," and thought how
wonderful it would be to have a Real Brain which could tell you
things. And by-and-by Christopher Robin came to an end  of  the
things,  and  was silent, and he sat there looking out over the
world, and wishing it wouldn't stop.
        But Pooh was thinking too,  and  he  said  suddenly  to
Christopher Robin:
        "Is  it a very Grand thing to be an Afternoon, what you
said?"
        "A what?" said Christopher Robin lazily, as he listened
to something else.
        "On a horse," explained Pooh.
        "A Knight?"
        "Oh, was that it?" said Pooh. "I thought it was a--  Is
it  as Grand as a King and Factors and all the other things you
said?"
        "Well, it's not as grand as a King,"  said  Christopher
Robin, and then, as Pooh seemed disappointed, he added quickly,
"but it's grander than Factors."
        "Could a Bear be one?"
        "Of  course  he  could!"  said Christopher Robin. "I'll
make you one." And he took a stick  and  touched  Pooh  on  the
shoulder,  and  said, "Rise, Sir Pooh de Bear, most faithful of
all my Knights."
        So Pooh rose and sat down and said "Thank  you,"  which
is  a proper thing to say when you have been made a Knight, and
he went into a dream again, in which he and Sir  Pump  and  Sir
Brazil  and  Factors  lived  together  with  a  horse, and were
faithful Knights (all except  Factors,  who  looked  after  the
horse)  to  Good King Christopher Robin . . . and every now and
then he shook his head, and said to himself, "I'm  not  getting
it right." Then he began to think of all the things Christopher
Robin would want to tell him when he came back from wherever he
was  going  to, and how muddling it would be for a Bear of Very
Little Brain to try and  get  them  right  in  his  mind.  "So,
perhaps,"  he  said  sadly to himself, "Christopher Robin won't
tell me
    any more," and he wondered if being a Faithful Knight meant
that you just went on being faithful without being told things.
        Then, suddenly again, Christopher Robin, who was  Still
looking  at  the  world  with his chin in his hands, called out
"Pooh!"
        "Yes?" said Pooh.
        "When I'm--when-- Pooh!"
        "Yes, Christopher Robin?"
        "I'm not going to do Nothing any more."
        "Never again?"
        "Well, not so much. They don't let you."
        Pooh waited for him to go on, but he was silent again.
        "Yes, Christopher Robin?" said Pooh helpfully.
        "Pooh, when I'm--you know--when I'm not doing  Nothing,
will you come up here sometimes?"
        "Just Me?"
        "Yes, Pooh."
        "Will you be here too?"
        "Yes,  Pooh,  I  will  be  really. I promise I will be,
Pooh."
        "That's good," said Pooh.
        "Pooh, promise you won't forget  about  me,  ever.  Not
even when I'm a hundred."
        Pooh thought for a little.
        "How old shall I be then?"
        "Ninety-nine."
        Pooh nodded.
        "I promise," he said.
        Still  with his eyes on the world Christopher Robin put
out a hand and felt for Pooh's paw.
        "Pooh," said Christopher Robin earnestly, "if I--if I'm
not quite" he stopped  and  tried  again  --".  Pooh,  whatever
happens, you will understand, won't you?"
        "Understand what?"
        "Oh, nothing." He laughed and jumped to his feet. "Come
on!"
        "Where?" said Pooh.
        "Anywhere," said Christopher Robin.


        So  they  went  off together. But wherever they go, and
whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on
the top of the Forest a little boy and his Bear will always  be
playing.

Популярность: 1, Last-modified: Fri, 21 Nov 1997 15:57:12 GMT