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Original of this document is at http://www.machaon.ru/pooh/
To her
Hand in hand we come
Christopher Robin and I
To lay this book in your lap.
Say you're surprised?
Say it's just what you wanted?
Because it's yours -
because we love you.
IF you happen to have read another book about
Christopher Robin, you may remember that he once had a swan (or
the swan had Christopher Robin, I don't know which) and that he
used to call this swan Pooh. That was a long time ago, and when
we said good-bye, we took the name with us, as we didn't think
the swan would want it any more. Well, when Edward Bear said
that he would like an exciting name all to himself, Christopher
Robin said at once, without stopping to think, that he was
Winnie-the-Pooh. And he was. So, as I have explained the Pooh
part, I will now explain the rest of it.
You can't be in London for long without going to the
Zoo. There are some people who begin the Zoo at the beginning,
called WAYIN, and walk as quickly as they can past every cage
until they get to the one called WAYOUT, but the nicest people
go straight to the animal they love the most, and stay there.
So when Christopher Robin goes to the Zoo, he goes to where the
Polar Bears are, and he whispers something to the third keeper
from the left, and doors are unlocked, and we wander through
dark passages and up steep stairs, until at last we come to the
special cage, and the cage is opened, and out trots something
brown and furry, and with a happy cry of "Oh, Bear!"
Christopher Robin rushes into its arms. Now this bear's name is
Winnie, which shows what a good name for bears it is, but the
funny thing is that we can't remember whether Winnie is called
after Pooh, or Pooh after Winnie. We did know once, but we have
forgotten. . . .
I had written as far as this when Piglet looked up and
said in his squeaky voice, "What about Me?" "My dear Piglet," I
said, "the whole book is about you." "So it is about Pooh," he
squeaked. You see what it is. He is jealous because he thinks
Pooh is having a Grand Introduction all to himself. Pooh is the
favourite, of course, there's no denying it, but Piglet comes
in for a good many things which Pooh misses; because you can't
take Pooh to school without everybody knowing it, but Piglet is
so small that he slips into a pocket, where it is very
comforting to feel him when you are not quite sure whether
twice seven is twelve or twenty-two. Sometimes he slips out and
has a good look in the ink-pot, and in this way he has got more
education than Pooh, but Pooh doesn't mind. Some have brains,
and some haven't, he says, and there it is.
And now all the others are saying, "What about Us?" So
perhaps the best thing to do is to stop writing Introductions
and get on with the book.
A. A. M.
HERE is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump,
bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is,
as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but
sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he
could stop bumping for a moment and think of it.
And then he feels that perhaps there isn't. Anyhow,
here he is at the bottom, and ready to be introduced to you.
Winnie-the-Pooh.
When I first heard his name, I said, just as you are
going to say, "But I thought he was a boy?"
"So did I," said Christopher Robin.
"Then you can't call him Winnie?"
"I don't."
"But you said -- "
"He's Winnie-ther-Pooh. Don't you know what 'ther'
means?"
"Ah, yes, now I do," I said quickly; and I hope you do
too, because it is all the explanation you are going to get.
Sometimes Winnie-the-Pooh likes a game of some sort
when he comes downstairs, and sometimes he likes to sit quietly
in front of the fire and listen to a story. This evening --
"What about a story?" said Christopher Robin.
"What about a story?" I said.
"Could you very sweetly tell Winnie-the-Pooh one?"
"I suppose I could," I said. "What sort of stories does
he like?"
"About himself. Because he's that sort of Bear."
"Oh, I see."
"So could you very sweetly?"
"I'll try," I said.
So I tried.
Once upon a time, a very long time ago now, about last
Friday, Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a forest all by himself under
the name of Sanders.
("What does 'under the name' mean?" asked Christopher
Robin. "It means he had the name over the door in gold letters,
and lived under it."
"Winnie-the-Pooh wasn't quite sure," said Christopher
Robin.
"Now I am," said a growly voice.
"Then I will go on," said I.)
One day when he was out walking, he came to an open
place in the middle of the forest, and in the middle of this
place was a large oak-tree, and, from the top of the tree,
there came a loud buzzing-noise.
Winnie-the-Pooh sat down at the foot of the tree, put
his head between his paws and began to think.
First of all he said to himself: "That buzzing-noise
means something. You don't get a buzzing-noise like that, just
buzzing and buzzing, without its meaning something. If there's
a buzzing-noise, somebody's making a buzzing-noise, and the
only reason for making a buzzing-noise that I know of is
because you're a bee."
Then he thought another long time, and said: "And the
only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey."
And then he got up, and said: "And the only reason for
making honey is so as I can eat it." So he began to climb the
tree
He climbed and he climbed and he climbed and as he
climbed he sang a little song to himself. It went like this:
Isn't it funny
How a bear likes honey?
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
I wonder why he does?
Then he climbed a little further. . . and a little
further . . . and then just a little further. By that time he
had thought of another song.
It's a very funny thought that, if Bears were Bees,
They'd build their nests at the bottom of trees.
And that being so (if the Bees were Bears),
We shouldn't have to climb up all these stairs.
He was getting rather tired by this time, so that is
why he sang a Complaining Song. He was nearly there now, and if
he just s t o o d o n t h a t branch . . .
Crack !
"Oh, help!" said Pooh, as he dropped ten feet on the
branch below him.
"If only I hadn't -- " he said, as he bounced twenty
feet on to the next branch.
"You see, what I meant to do," he explained, as he
turned head-over-heels, and crashed on to another branch thirty
feet below, "what I meant to do -- "
"Of course, it was rather -- " he admitted, as he
slithered very quickly through the next six branches.
"It all comes, I suppose," he decided, as he said
good-bye to the last branch, spun round three times, and flew
gracefully into a gorse-bush, "it all comes of liking honey so
much. Oh, help!"
He crawled out of the gorse-bush, brushed the prickles
from his nose, and began to think again. And the first person
he thought of was Christopher Robin.
("Was that me?" said Christopher Robin in an awed
voice, hardly daring to believe it.
"That was you."
Christopher Robin said nothing, but his eyes got larger
and larger, and his face got pinker and pinker.)
So Winnie-the-Pooh went round to his friend Christopher
Robin, who lived behind a green door in another part of the
Forest.
"Good morning, Christopher Robin," he said.
"Good morning, Winnie-ther-Pooh," said you.
"I wonder if you've got such a thing as a balloon about
you?"
"A balloon?"
"Yes, I just said to myself coming along: 'I wonder if
Christopher Robin has such a thing as a balloon about him?' I
just said it to myself, thinking of balloons, and wondering."
"What do you want a balloon for?" you said.
Winnie-the-Pooh looked round to see that nobody was
listening, put his paw to his mouth, and said in a deep
whisper: "Honey!"
"But you don't get honey with balloons!"
"I do," said Pooh.
Well, it just happened that you had been to a party the
day before at the house of your friend Piglet, and you had
balloons at the party. You had had a big green balloon; and one
of Rabbit's relations had had a big blue one, and had left it
behind, being really too young to go to a party at all; and so
you had brought the green one and the blue one home with you.
"Which one would you like?" you asked Pooh. He put his
head between his paws and thought very carefully.
"It's like this," he said. "When you go after honey
with a balloon, the great thing is not to let the bees know
you're coming. Now, if you have a green balloon, they might
think you were only part of the tree, and not notice you, and
if you have a blue balloon, they might think you were only part
of the sky, and not notice you, and the question is: Which is
most likely?"
"Wouldn't they notice you underneath the balloon?" you
asked.
"They might or they might not," said Winnie-the-Pooh.
"You never can tell with bees." He thought for a moment and
said: "I shall try to look like a small black cloud. That will
deceive them."
"Then you had better have the blue balloon," you said;
and so it was decided.
Well, you both went out with the blue balloon, and you
took your gun with you, just in case, as you always did, and
Winnie-the-Pooh went to a very muddy place that he knew of, and
rolled and rolled until he was black all over; and then, when
the balloon was blown up as big as big, and you and Pooh were
both holding on to the string, you let go suddenly, and Pooh
Bear floated gracefully up into the sky, and stayed there --
level with the top of the tree and about twenty feet away from
it.
"Hooray!" you shouted.
"Isn't that fine?" shouted Winnie-the-Pooh down to you.
"What do I look like?"
"You look like a Bear holding on to a balloon," you
said.
"Not," said Pooh anxiously, " -- not like a small black
cloud in a blue sky?"
"Not very much."
"Ah, well, perhaps from up here it looks different.
And, as I say, you never can tell with bees."
There was no wind to blow him nearer to the tree, so
there he stayed. He could see the honey, he could smell the
honey, but he couldn't quite reach the honey.
After a little while he called down to you.
"Christopher Robin!" he said in a loud whisper.
"Hallo!"
"I think the bees suspect something!"
"What sort of thing?"
"I don't know. But something tells me that they're
suspicious!"
"Perhaps they think that you're after their honey?"
"It may be that. You never can tell with bees."
There was another little silence, and then he called
down to you again.
"Christopher Robin!"
"Yes?"
"Have you an umbrella in your house?"
"I think so."
"I wish you would bring it out here, and walk up and
down with it, and look up at me every now and then, and say
'Tut-tut, it looks like rain.' I think, if you did that, it
would help the deception which we are practising on these
bees."
Well, you laughed to yourself, "Silly old Bear !" but
you didn't say it aloud because you were so fond of him, and
you went home for your umbrella.
"Oh, there you are!" called down Winnie-the-Pooh, as
soon as you got back to the tree. "I was beginning to get
anxious. I have discovered that the bees are now definitely
Suspicious."
"Shall I put my umbrella up?" you said.
"Yes, but wait a moment. We must be practical. The
important bee to deceive is the Queen Bee. Can you see which is
the Queen Bee from down there?"
"No."
"A pity. Well, now, if you walk up and down with your
umbrella, saying, 'Tut-tut, it looks like rain,' I shall do
what I can by singing a little Cloud Song, such as a cloud
might sing. . . . Go!"
So, while you walked up and down and wondered if it
would rain, Winnie-the-Pooh sang this song:
How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue!
Every little cloud
Always sings aloud.
"How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue!"
It makes him very proud
To be a little cloud.
The bees were still buzzing as suspiciously as ever.
Some of them, indeed, left their nests and flew all round the
cloud as it began the second verse of this song, and one bee
sat down on the nose of the cloud for a moment, and then got up
again.
"Christopher -- ow! -- Robin," called out the cloud.
"Yes?"
"I have just been thinking, and I have come to a very
important decision. These are the wrong sort of bees."
"Are they?"
"Quite the wrong sort. So I should think they would
make the wrong sort of honey, shouldn't you?"
"Would they?"
"Yes. So I think I shall come down."
"How?" asked you.
Winnie-the-Pooh hadn't thought about this. If he let go
of the string, he would fall -- bump -- and he didn't like the
idea of that. So he thought for a long time, and then he said:
"Christopher Robin, you must shoot the balloon with
your gun. Have you got your gun?"
"Of course I have," you said. "But if I do that, it
will spoil the balloon," you said. But if you don't" said Pooh,
"I shall have to let go, and that would spoil me."
When he put it like this, you saw how it was, and you
aimed very carefully at the balloon, and fired.
"Ow!" said Pooh.
"Did I miss?" you asked.
"You didn't exactly miss," said Pooh, "but you missed
the balloon."
"I'm so sorry," you said, and you fired again, and this
time you hit the balloon and the air came slowly out, and
Winnie-the-Pooh floated down to the ground.
But his arms were so stiff from holding on to the
string of the balloon all that time that they stayed up
straight in the air for more than a week, and whenever a fly
came and settled on his nose he had to blow it off. And I think
-- but I am not sure -- that that is why he was always called
Pooh.
"Is that the end of the story?" asked Christopher
Robin.
"That's the end of that one. There are others."
"About Pooh and Me?"
"And Piglet and Rabbit and all of you. Don't you
remember?"
"I do remember, and then when I try to remember, I
forget."
"That day when Pooh and Piglet tried to catch the
Heffalump -- "
"They didn't catch it, did they?"
"No."
"Pooh couldn't, because he hasn't any brain. Did I
catch it?"
"Well, that comes into the story."
Christopher Robin nodded.
"I do remember," he said, "only Pooh doesn't very well,
so that's why he likes having it told to him again. Because
then it's a real story and not just a remembering."
"That's just how I feel," I said.
Christopher Robin gave a deep sigh, picked his Bear up
by the leg, and walked off to the door, trailing Pooh behind
him. At the door he turned and said, "Coming to see me have my
bath?" "I didn't hurt him when I shot him, did I?" "Not a bit."
He nodded and went out, and in a moment I heard Winnie-the-Pooh
-- bump, bump, bump -- going up the stairs behind him.
EDWARD BEAR, known to his friends as Winnie-the-Pooh,
or Pooh for short, was walking through the forest one day,
humming proudly to himself. He had made up a little hum that
very morning, as he was doing his Stoutness Exercises in front
of the glass: Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, as he stretched up as high
as he could go, and then Tra-la-la, tra-la -- oh, help! -- la,
as he tried to reach his toes. After breakfast he had said it
over and over to himself until he had learnt it off by heart,
and now he was humming it right through, properly. It went like
this:
Tra-la-la, tra-la-la,
Tra-la-la, tra-la-la,
Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum.
Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle,
Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle,
Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um.
Well, he was humming this hum to himself, and walking
along gaily, wondering what everybody else was doing, and what
it felt like, being somebody else, when suddenly he came to a
sandy bank, and in the bank was a large hole.
"Aha !" said Pooh. (Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum.) "If I know
anything about anything, that hole means Rabbit," he said, "and
Rabbit means Company," he said, "and Company means Food and
Listening-to-Me-Humming and such like. Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um.
So he bent down, put his head into the hole, and called
out:
"Is anybody at home?"
There was a sudden scuffling noise from inside the
hole, and then silence.
"What I said was, 'Is anybody at home?'" called out
Pooh very loudly.
"No!" said a voice; and then added, "You needn't shout
so loud. I heard you quite well the first time."
"Bother!" said Pooh. "Isn't there anybody here at all?"
"Nobody."
Winnie-the-Pooh took his head out of the hole, and
thought for a little, and he thought to himself, "There must be
somebody there, because somebody must have said 'Nobody.'" So
he put his head back in the hole, and said: "Hallo, Rabbit,
isn't that you?"
"No," said Rabbit, in a different sort of voice this
time.
"But isn't that Rabbit's voice?"
"I don't think so," said Rabbit. "It isn't meant to
be."
"Oh!" said Pooh.
He took his head out of the hole, and had another
think, and then he put it back, and said:
"Well, could you very kindly tell me where Rabbit is?"
"He has gone to see his friend Pooh Bear, who is a
great friend of his."
"But this is Me!" said Bear, very much surprised.
"What sort of Me?"
"Pooh Bear."
"Are you sure?" said Rabbit, still more surprised.
"Quite, quite sure," said Pooh.
"Oh, well, then, come in."
So Pooh pushed and pushed and pushed his way through
the hole, and at last he got in.
"You were quite right," said Rabbit, looking at him all
over. "It is you. Glad to see you."
"Who did you think it was?"
"Well, I wasn't sure. You know how it is in the Forest.
One can't have anybody coming into one's house. One has to be
careful. What about a mouthful of something?"
Pooh always liked a little something at eleven o'clock
in the morning, and he was very glad to see Rabbit getting out
the plates and mugs; and when Rabbit said, "Honey or condensed
milk with your bread?" he was so excited that he said, "Both,"
and then, so as not to seem greedy, he added, "But don't bother
about the bread, please." And for a long time after that he
said nothing . . . until at last, humming to himself in a
rather sticky voice, he got up, shook Rabbit lovingly by the
paw, and said that he must be going on.
"Must you?" said Rabbit politely
"Well," said Pooh, "I could stay a little longer if it
-- if you -- " and he tried very hard to look in the direction
of the larder.
"As a matter of fact," said Rabbit, "I was going out
myself directly."
"Oh well, then, I'll be going on. Good-bye."
"Well, good-bye, if you're sure you won't have any
more."
"Is there any more?" asked Pooh quickly.
Rabbit took the covers off the dishes, and said, "No,
there wasn't."
"I thought not," said Pooh, nodding to himself "Well,
good-bye. I must be going on."
So he started to climb out of the hole. He pulled with
his front paws, and pushed with his back paws, and in a little
while his nose was out in the open again . . . and then his
ears . . . and then his front paws . . . and then his shoulders
. . . and then --
"Oh, help!" said Pooh. "I'd better go back."
"Oh, bother!" said Pooh. "I shall have to go on."
"I can't do either!" said Pooh. "Oh, help and bother!"
Now, by this time Rabbit wanted to go for a walk too,
and finding the front door full, he went out by the back door,
and came round to Pooh, and looked at him.
"Hallo, are you stuck?" he asked.
"N-no," said Pooh carelessly. "Just resting and
thinking and humming to myself."
"Here, give us a paw."
Pooh Bear stretched out a paw, and Rabbit pulled and
pulled and pulled....
"0w!" cried Pooh. "You're hurting!"
"The fact is," said Rabbit, "you're stuck."
"It all comes," said Pooh crossly, "of not having front
doors big enough."
"It all comes," said Rabbit sternly, "of eating too
much. I thought at the time," said Rabbit, "only I didn't like
to say anything," said Rabbit, "that one of us has eating too
much," said Rabbit, "and I knew it wasn't me," he said. "Well,
well, I shall go and fetch Christopher Robin."
Christopher Robin lived at the other end of the Forest,
and when he came back with Rabbit, and saw the front half of
Pooh, he said, "Silly old Bear," in such a loving voice that
everybody felt quite hopeful again.
"I was just beginning to think," said Bear, sniffing
slightly, "that Rabbit might never be able to use his front
door again. And I should hate that," he said.
"So should I," said Rabbit.
"Use his front door again?" said Christopher Robin. "Of
course he'll use his front door again. "Good," said Rabbit.
"If we can't pull you out, Pooh, we might push you
back."
Rabbit scratched his whiskers thoughtfully, and pointed
out that, when once Pooh was pushed back, he was back, and of
course nobody was more glad to see Pooh than he was, still
there it was, some lived in trees and some lived underground,
and --
"You mean I'd never get out?" said Pooh.
"I mean," said Rabbit, "that having got so far, it
seems a pity to waste it."
Christopher Robin nodded.
"Then there's only one thing to be done," he said. "We
shall have to wait for you to get thin again."
"How long does getting thin take?" asked Pooh
anxiously.
"About a week, I should think."
"But I can't stay here for a week!"
"You can stay here all right, silly old Bear. It's
getting you out which is so difficult."
"We'll read to you," said Rabbit cheerfully. "And I
hope it won't snow," he added. "And I say, old fellow, you're
taking up a good deal of room in my house -- do you mind if I
use your back legs as a towel-horse? Because, I mean, there
they are -- doing nothing -- and it would be very convenient
just to hang the towels on them."
"A week!" said Pooh gloomily. "What about meals?"
"I'm afraid no meals," said Christopher Robin, "because
of getting thin quicker. But we will read to you."
Bear began to sigh, and then found he couldn't because
he was so tightly stuck; and a tear rolled down his eye, as he
said:
"Then would you read a Sustaining Book, such as would
help and comfort a Wedged Bear in Great Tightness?" So for a
week Christopher
Robin read that sort of book at the North end of Pooh,
and Rabbit hung his washing on the South end . . . and in
between Bear felt himself getting slenderer and slenderer. And
at the end of the week Christopher Robin said, "Now!"
So he took hold of Pooh's front paws and Rabbit took
hold of Christopher Robin, and all Rabbit's friends and
relations took hold of Rabbit, and they all pulled together....
And for a long time Pooh only said "Ow!" . . .
And "Oh!" . . .
And then, all of a sudden, he said "Pop!" just as if a
cork were coming out of bottle.
And Christopher Robin and Rabbit and all Rabbit's
friends and relations went head-over-heels backwards . . . and
on the top of them came Winnie-the-Pooh -- free!
So, with a nod of thanks to his friends, he went on
with his walk through the forest, humming proudly to himself.
But, Christopher Robin looked after him lovingly, and said to
himself, "Silly old Bear!"
THE Piglet lived in a very grand house in the middle of
a beech-tree, and the beech-tree was in the middle of the
forest, and the Piglet lived in the middle of the house. Next
to his house was a piece of broken board which had:
"TRESPASSERS W" on it. When Christopher Robin asked the Piglet
what it meant, he said it was his grandfather's name, and had
been in the family for a long time. Christopher Robin said you
couldn't be called Trespassers W, and Piglet said yes, you
could, because his grandfather was, and it was short for
Trespassers Will, which was short for Trespassers William. And
his grandfather had had two names in case he lost one --
Trespassers after an uncle, and William after Trespassers.
"I've got two names," said Christopher Robin
carelessly.
"Well, there you are, that proves it," said Piglet.
One fine winter's day when Piglet was brushing away the
snow in front of his house, he happened to look up, and there
was Winnie-the-Pooh. Pooh was walking round and round in a
circle, thinking of something else, and when Piglet called to
him, he just went on walking.
"Hallo!" said Piglet, "what are you doing?"
"Hunting," said Pooh.
"Hunting what?"
"Tracking something," said Winnie-the-Pooh very
mysteriously.
"Tracking what?" said Piglet, coming closer
"That's just what I ask myself. I ask myself, What?"
"What do you think you'll answer?"
"I shall have to wait until I catch up with it," said
Winnie-the-Pooh. "Now, look there." He pointed to the ground in
front of him. "What do you see there?"
"Tracks," said Piglet. "Paw-marks." He gave a little
squeak of excitement. "Oh, Pooh! Do you think it's a -- a -- a
Woozle?"
"It may be," said Pooh. "Sometimes it is, and sometimes
it isn't. You never can tell with paw-marks."
With these few words he went on tracking, and Piglet,
after watching him for a minute or two, ran after him.
Winnie-the-Pooh had come to a sudden stop, and was bending over
the tracks in a puzzled sort of way.
"What's the matter?" asked Piglet.
"It's a very funny thing," said Bear, "but there seem
to be two animals now. This -- whatever-it-was -- has been
joined by another -- whatever-it-is --
and the two of them are now proceeding in company.
Would you mind coming with me, Piglet, in case they turn out to
be Hostile Animals?"
Piglet scratched his ear in a nice sort of way, and
said that he had nothing to do until Friday, and would be
delighted to come, in case it really was a Woozle.
"You mean, in case it really is two Woozles," said
Winnie-the-Pooh, and Piglet said that anyhow he had nothing to
do until Friday. So off they went together.
There was a small spinney of larch trees just here, and
it seemed as if the two Woozles, if that is what they were, had
been going round this spinney; so round this spinney went Pooh
and Piglet after them; Piglet passing the time by telling Pooh
what his Grandfather Trespassers W had done to Remove Stiffness
after Tracking, and how his Grandfather Trespassers W had
suffered in his later years from Shortness of Breath, and other
matters of interest, and Pooh wondering what a Grandfather was
like, and if perhaps this was Two Grandfathers they were after
now, and, if so, whether he would be allowed to take one home
and keep it, and what Christopher Robin would say. And still
the tracks went on in front of them....
Suddenly Winnie-the-Pooh stopped, and pointed excitedly
in front of him. "Look!"
"What?" said Piglet, with a jump. And then, to show
that he hadn't been frightened, he jumped up and down once or
twice more in an exercising sort of way.
"The tracks!" said Pooh. "A third animal has joined the
other two!" "Pooh!" cried Piglet "Do you think it is another
Woozle?"
"No," said Pooh, "because it makes different marks. It
is either Two Woozles and one, as it might be, Wizzle, or Two,
as it might be, Wizzles and one, if so it is, Woozle. Let us
continue to follow them."
So they went on, feeling just a little anxious now, in
case the three animals in front of them were of Hostile Intent.
And Piglet wished very much that his Grandfather T. W. were
there, instead of elsewhere, and Pooh thought how nice it would
be if they met Christopher Robin suddenly but quite
accidentally, and only because he liked Christopher Robin so
much. And then, all of a sudden, Winnie-the-Pooh stopped again,
and licked the tip of his nose in a cooling manner, for he was
feeling more hot and anxious than ever in his life before.
There were four animals in front of them!
"Do you see, Piglet? Look at their tracks! Three, as it
were, Woozles, and one, as it was, Wizzle. Another Woozle has
joined them!"
And so it seemed to be. There were the tracks; crossing
over each other here, getting muddled up with each other there;
but, quite plainly every now and then, the tracks of four sets
of paws.
"I think," said Piglet, when he had licked the tip of
his nose too, and found that it brought very little comfort, "I
think that I have just remembered something. I have just
remembered something that I forgot to do yesterday and sha'n't
be able to do to-morrow. So I suppose I really ought to go back
and do it now."
"We'll do it this afternoon, and I'll come with you,"
said Pooh.
"It isn't the sort of thing you can do in the
afternoon," said Piglet quickly. "It's a very particular
morning thing, that has to be done in the morning, and, if
possible, between the hours of What would you say the time
was?"
"About twelve," said Winnie-the-Pooh, looking at the
sun.
"Between, as I was saying, the hours of twelve and
twelve five. So, really, dear old Pooh, if you'll excuse me --
What's that."
Pooh looked up at the sky, and then, as he heard the
whistle again, he looked up into the branches of a big
oak-tree, and then he saw a friend of his.
"It's Christopher Robin," he said.
"Ah, then you'll be all right," said Piglet.
"You'll be quite safe with him. Good-bye," and he
trotted off home as quickly as he could, very glad to be Out of
All Danger again.
Christopher Robin came slowly down his tree.
"Silly old Bear," he said, "what were you doing? First
you went round the spinney twice by yourself, and then Piglet
ran after you and you went round again together, and then you
were just going round a fourth time"
"Wait a moment," said Winnie-the-Pooh, holding up his
paw.
He sat down and thought, in the most thoughtful way he
could think. Then he fitted his paw into one of the Tracks ...
and then he scratched his nose twice, and stood up.
"Yes," said Winnie-the-Pooh.
"I see now," said Winnie-the-Pooh.
"I have been Foolish and Deluded," said he, "and I am a
Bear of No Brain at All."
"You're the Best Bear in All the World," said
Christopher Robin soothingly.
"Am I?" said Pooh hopefully. And then he brightened up
suddenly.
"Anyhow," he said, "it is nearly Luncheon Time."
So he went home for it.
THE Old Grey Donkey, Eeyore, stood by himself in a
thistly corner of the forest, his front feet well apart, his
head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he
thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought,
"Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" --
and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.
So when Winnie-the-Pooh came stumping along, Eeyore was very
glad to be able to stop thinking for a little, in order to say
"How do you do?" in a gloomy manner to him.
"And how are you?" said Winnie-the-Pooh.
Eeyore shook his head from side to side.
"Not very how," he said. "I don't seem to have felt at
all how for a long time."
"Dear, dear," said Pooh, "I'm sorry about that. Let's
have a look at you." So Eeyore stood there, gazing sadly at the
ground, and Winnie-the-Pooh walked all round him once.
"Why, what's happened to your tail?" he said in
surprise.
"What has happened to it?" said Eeyore.
"It isn't there!"
"Are you sure?"
"Well, either a tail is there or it isn't there You
can't make a mistake about it. And yours isn't there!"
"Then what is?"
"Nothing."
"Let's have a look," said Eeyore, and he turned slowly
round to the place where his tail had been a little while ago,
and then, finding that he couldn't catch it up, he turned round
the other way, until he came back to where he was at first, and
then he put his head down and looked between his front legs,
and at last he said, with a long, sad sigh, "I believe you're
right"
"Of course I'm right," said Pooh
"That accounts for a Good Deal," said Eeyore gloomily.
"It explains Everything. No Wonder."
"You must have left it somewhere," said
Winnie-the-Pooh.
"Somebody must have taken it," said Eeyore.
"How Like Them," he added, after a long silence. Pooh
felt that he ought to say something helpful about it, but
didn't quite know what.
So he decided to do something helpful instead.
"Eeyore," he said solemnly, "I, Winnie-the-Pooh, will
find your tail for you."
"Thank you, Pooh," answered Eeyore. "You're a real
friend," said he. "Not like Some," he said.
So Winnie-the-Pooh went off to find Eeyore's tail.
It was a fine spring morning in the forest as he
started out. Little soft clouds played happily in a blue sky,
skipping from time to time in front of the sun as if they had
come to put it out, and then sliding away suddenly so that the
next might have his turn. Through them and between them the sun
shone bravely, and a copse which had worn its firs all the year
round seemed old and dowdy now beside the new green lace which
the beeches had put on so prettily. Through copse and spinney
marched Bear; down open slopes of gorse and heather, over rocky
beds of streams, up steep banks of sandstone into the heather
again; and so at last, tired and hungry, to the Hundred Acre
Wood. For it was in the Hundred Acre Wood that Owl lived.
"And if anyone knows anything about anything," said
Bear to himself, "it's Owl who knows something about
something," he said, "or my name's not Winnie-the-Pooh," he
said. "Which it is," he added. "So there you are."
Owl lived at The Chestnuts, and old-world residence of
great charm, which was grander than anybody else's, or seemed
so to Bear, because it had both a knocker and a bell-pull.
Underneath the knocker there was a notice which said:
PLES RING IF AN RNSER IS REQIRD.
Underneath the bell-pull there was a notice which said:
PLEZ CNOKE IF AN RNSR IS NOT REQID.
These notices had been written by Christopher Robin,
who was the only one in the forest who could spell; for Owl,
wise though he was in many ways, able to read and write and
spell his own name WOL, yet somehow went all to pieces over
delicate words like MEASLES and BUTTEREDTOAST.
Winnie-the-Pooh read the two notices very carefully,
first from left to right, and afterwards, in case he had missed
some of it, from right to left. Then, to make quite sure, he
knocked and pulled the knocker, and he pulled and knocked the
bell-rope, and he called out in a very loud voice, "Owl! I
require an answer! It's Bear speaking." And the door opened,
and Owl looked out.
"Hallo, Pooh," he said. "How's things?"
"Terrible and Sad," said Pooh, "because Eeyore, who is
a friend of mine, has lost his tail. And he's Moping about it.
So could you very kindly tell me how to find it for him?"
"Well," said Owl, "the customary procedure in such
cases is as follows."
"What does Crustimoney Proseedcake mean?" said Pooh.
"For I am a Bear of Very Little Brain, and long words Bother
me."
"It means the Thing to Do."
"As long as it means that, I don't mind," said Pooh
humbly.
"The thing to do is as follows. First, Issue a Reward.
Then -- "
"Just a moment," said Pooh, holding up his paw. "What
do we do to this -- what you were saying? You sneezed just as
you were going to tell me."
"I didn't sneeze."
"Yes, you did, Owl."
"Excuse me, Pooh, I didn't. You can't sneeze without
knowing it."
"Well, you can't know it without something having been
sneezed."
"What I said was, 'First Issue a Reward'."
"You're doing it again," said Pooh sadly.
"A Reward!" said Owl very loudly. "We write a notice to
say that we will give a large something to anybody who finds
Eeyore's tail."
"I see, I see," said Pooh, nodding his head. "Talking
about large somethings," he went on dreamily, "I generally have
a small something about now -- about this time in the morning,"
and he looked wistfully at the cupboard in the corner of Owl's
parlour; "just a mouthful of condensed milk or whatnot, with
perhaps a lick of honey -- "
"Well, then," said Owl, "we write out this notice, and
we put it up all over the Forest."
"A lick of honey," murmured Bear to himself, "or -- or
not, as the case may be." And he gave a deep sigh, and tried
very hard to listen to what Owl was saying.
But Owl went on and on, using longer and longer words,
until at last he came back to where he started, and he
explained that the person to write out this notice was
Christopher Robin.
"It was he who wrote the ones on my front door for me.
Did you see them, Pooh?"
For some time now Pooh had been saying "Yes" and "No"
in turn, with his eyes shut, to all that Owl was saying, and
having said, "Yes, yes," last time, he said "No, not at all,"
now, without really knowing what Owl was talking about? "Didn't
you see them?" said Owl, a little surprised. "Come and look at
them now."
So they went outside. And Pooh looked at the knocker
and the notice below it, and he looked at the bell-rope and the
notice below it, and the more he looked at the bell-rope, the
more he felt that he had seen something like it, somewhere
else, sometime before.
"Handsome bell-rope, isn't it?" said Owl.
Pooh nodded.
"It reminds me of something," he said, "but I can't
think what. Where did you get it?"
"I just came across it in the Forest. It was hanging
over a bush, and I thought at first somebody lived there, so I
rang it, and nothing happened, and then I rang it again very
loudly, and it came off in my hand, and as nobody seemed to
want it, I took it home, and"
"Owl," said Pooh solemnly, "you made a mistake.
Somebody did want it."
"Who?"
"Eeyore. My dear friend Eeyore. He was -- he was fond
of it."
"Fond of it?"
"Attached to it," said Winnie-the-Pooh sadly.
So with these words he unhooked it, and carried it back
to Eeyore; and when Christopher Robin had nailed it on its
right place again, Eeyore frisked about the forest, waving his
tail so happily that Winnie-the-Pooh came over all funny, and
had to hurry home for a little snack of something to sustain
him. And wiping his mouth half an hour afterwards, he sang to
himself proudly:
Who found the Tail?
"I," said Pooh,
"At a quarter to two
(Only it was quarter to eleven really),
I found the Tail!"
ONE day, when Christopher Robin and Winnie-the-Pooh and
Piglet were all talking together, Christopher Robin finished
the mouthful he was eating and said carelessly: "I saw a
Heffalump to-day, Piglet."
"What was it doing?" asked Piglet.
"Just lumping along," said Christopher Robin. "I don't
think it saw me."
"I saw one once," said Piglet. "At least, I think I
did," he said. "Only perhaps it wasn't."
"So did I," said Pooh, wondering what a Heffalump was
like.
"You don't often see them," said Christopher Robin
carelessly.
"Not now," said Piglet.
"Not at this time of year," said Pooh.
Then they all talked about something else, until it was
time for Pooh and Piglet to go home together. At first as they
stumped along the path which edged the Hundred Acre Wood, they
didn't say much to each other; but when they came to the
stream, and had helped each other across the stepping stones,
and were able to walk side by side again over the heather, they
began to talk in a friendly way about this and that, and Piglet
said, "If you see what I mean, Pooh," and Pooh said, "It's just
what I think myself, Piglet," and Piglet said, "But, on the
other hand, Pooh, we must remember," and Pooh said, "Quite
true, Piglet, although I had forgotten it for the moment." And
then, just as they came to the Six Pine Trees, Pooh looked
round to see that nobody else was listening, and said in a very
solemn voice: "Piglet, I have decided something.'
"What have you decided, Pooh?"
"I have decided to catch a Heffalump."
Pooh nodded his head several times as he said this, and
waited for Piglet to say "How?" or "Pooh, you couldn't!" or
something helpful of that sort, but Piglet said nothing. The
fact was Piglet was wishing that he had thought about it first.
"I shall do it," said Pooh, after waiting a little
longer, "by means of a trap. And it must be a Cunning Trap, so
you will have to help me, Piglet."
"Pooh," said Piglet, feeling quite happy again now, "I
will." And then he said, "How shall we do it?" and Pooh said,
"That's just it. How?" And then they sat down together to think
it out.
Pooh's first idea was that they should dig a Very Deep
Pit, and then the Heffalump would come along and fall into the
Pit, and --
"Why?" said Piglet.
"Why what?" said Pooh.
"Why would he fall in?"
Pooh rubbed his nose with his paw, and said that the
Heffalump might be walking along, humming a little song, and
looking up at the sky, wondering if it would rain, and so he
wouldn't see the Very Deep Pit until he was half-way down, when
it would be too late.
Piglet said that this was a very good Trap, but
supposing it were raining already?
Pooh rubbed his nose again, and said that he hadn't
thought of that. And then he brightened up, and said that, if
it were raining already, the Heffalump would be looking at the
sky wondering if it would clear up, and so he wouldn't see the
Very Deep Pit until he was half-way down.... When it would be