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