Winnie the Pooh

by A. A. Milne

  “A present,” said Piglet very loudly.

  “Meaning me again?”

  “Yes.”

  “My birthday still?”

  “Of course, Eeyore.”

  “Me going on having a real birthday?”

  “Yes, Eeyore, and I brought you a balloon.”

  “Balloon?” said Eeyore. “You did say balloon? One of those big coloured things you blow up? Gaiety, song-and-dance, here we are and there we are?”

  “Yes, but I’m afraid—I’m very sorry, Eeyore—but when I was running along to bring it to you, I fell down.”

  “Dear, dear, how unlucky! You ran too fast, I expect. You didn’t hurt yourself, Little Piglet?”

  “No, but I—I—oh, Eeyore, I burst the balloon!”

  There was a very long silence.

  “My balloon?” said Eeyore at last.

  Piglet nodded.

  “My birthday balloon?”

  “Yes, Eeyore,” said Piglet sniffing a little. “Here it is. With—with many happy returns of the day.” And he gave Eeyore the small piece of damp rag.

  “Is this it?” said Eeyore, a little surprised.

  Piglet nodded.

  “My present?”

  Piglet nodded again.

  “The balloon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Piglet,” said Eeyore. “You don’t mind my asking,” he went on, “but what colour was this balloon when it—when it was a balloon?”

  “Red.”

  “I just wondered…. Red,” he murmured to himself. “My favourite colour…. How big was it?”

  “About as big as me.”

  “I just wondered…. About as big as Piglet,” he said to himself sadly. “My favourite size. Well, well.”

  Piglet felt very miserable, and didn’t know what to say. He was still opening his mouth to begin something, and then deciding that it wasn’t any good saying that, when he heard a shout from the other side of the river, and there was Pooh.

  “Many happy returns of the day,” called out Pooh, forgetting that he had said it already.

  “Thank you, Pooh, I’m having them,” said Eeyore gloomily.

  “I’ve brought you a little present,” said Pooh excitedly.

  “I’ve had it,” said Eeyore.

  Pooh had now splashed across the stream to Eeyore, and Piglet was sitting a little way off, his head in his paws, snuffling to himself.

  “It’s a Useful Pot,” said Pooh. “Here it is. And it’s got ‘A Very Happy Birthday with love from Pooh’ written on it. That’s what all that writing is. And it’s for putting things in. There!”

  When Eeyore saw the pot, he became quite excited.

  “Why!” he said. “I believe my Balloon will just go into that Pot!”

  “Oh, no, Eeyore,” said Pooh. “Balloons are much too big to go into Pots. What you do with a balloon is, you hold the balloon—”

  “Not mine,” said Eeyore proudly. “Look, Piglet!” And as Piglet looked sorrowfully round, Eeyore picked the balloon up with his teeth, and placed it carefully in the pot; picked it out and put it on the ground; and then picked it up again and put it carefully back.

  “So it does!” said Pooh. “It goes in!”

  “So it does!” said Piglet. “And it comes out!”

  “Doesn’t it?” said Eeyore. “It goes in and out like anything.”

  “I’m very glad,” said Pooh happily, “that I thought of giving you a Useful Pot to put things in.”

  “I’m very glad,” said Piglet happily, “that I thought of giving you Something to put in a Useful Pot.”

  But Eeyore wasn’t listening. He was taking the balloon out, and putting it back again, as happy as could be….

  “And didn’t I give him anything?” asked Christopher Robin sadly.

  “Of course you did,” I said. “You gave him—don’t you remember—a little—a little—”

  “I gave him a box of paints to paint things with.”

  “That was it.”

  “Why didn’t I give it to him in the morning?”

  “You were so busy getting his party ready for him. He had a cake with icing on the top, and three candles, and his name in pink sugar, and—”

  “Yes, I remember,” said Christopher Robin.

  Chapter Seven

  IN WHICH

  Kanga and Baby Roo Come to the Forest, and Piglet Has a Bath

  NOBODY seemed to know where they came from, but there they were in the Forest: Kanga and Baby Roo. When Pooh asked Christopher Robin, “How did they come here?” Christopher Robin said, “In the Usual Way, if you know what I mean, Pooh,” and Pooh, who didn’t, said “Oh!” Then he nodded his head twice and said, “In the Usual Way. Ah!” Then he went to call upon his friend Piglet to see what he thought about it. And at Piglet’s house he found Rabbit. So they all talked about it together.

  “What I don’t like about it is this,” said Rabbit. “Here are we—you, Pooh, and you, Piglet, and Me—and suddenly—”

  “And Eeyore,” said Pooh.

  “And Eeyore—and then suddenly—”

  “And Owl,” said Pooh.

  “And Owl—and then all of a sudden—”

  “Oh, and Eeyore,” said Pooh. “I was forgetting him.”

  “Here—we—are,” said Rabbit very slowly and carefully, “all—of—us, and then, suddenly, we wake up one morning and, what do we find? We find a Strange Animal among us. An animal of whom we have never even heard before! An animal who carries her family about with her in her pocket! Suppose I carried my family about with me in my pocket, how many pockets should I want?”

  “Sixteen,” said Piglet.

  “Seventeen, isn’t it?” said Rabbit. “And one more for a handkerchief—that’s eighteen. Eighteen pockets in one suit! I haven’t time.”

  There was a long and thoughtful silence…and then Pooh, who had been frowning very hard for some minutes, said: “I make it fifteen.”

  “What?” said Rabbit.

  “Fifteen.”

  “Fifteen what?”

  “Your family.”

  “What about them?”

  Pooh rubbed his nose and said that he thought Rabbit had been talking about his family.

  “Did I?” said Rabbit carelessly.

  “Yes, you said—”

  “Never mind, Pooh,” said Piglet impatiently.

  “The question is, What are we to do about Kanga?”

  “Oh, I see,” said Pooh.

  “The best way,” said Rabbit, “would be this. The best way would be to steal Baby Roo and hide him, and then when Kanga says, ‘Where’s Baby Roo?’ we say, ‘Aha!’”

  “Aha!” said Pooh, practising. “Aha! Aha!… Of course,” he went on, “we could say ‘Aha!’ even if we hadn’t stolen Baby Roo.”

  “Pooh,” said Rabbit kindly, “you haven’t any brain.”

  “I know,” said Pooh humbly.

  “We say ‘Aha!’ so that Kanga knows that we know where Baby Roo is. ‘Aha!’ means ‘We’ll tell you where Baby Roo is, if you promise to go away from the Forest and never come back.’ Now don’t talk while I think.”

  Pooh went into a corner and tried saying “Aha!” in that sort of voice. Sometimes it seemed to him that it did mean what Rabbit said, and sometimes it seemed to him that it didn’t. “I suppose it’s just practice,” he thought. “I wonder if Kanga will have to practise too so as to understand it.”

  “There’s just one thing,” said Piglet, fidgeting a bit. “I was talking to Christopher Robin, and he said that a Kanga was Generally Regarded as One of the Fiercer Animals. I am not frightened of Fierce Animals in the ordinary way, but it is well known that, if One of the Fiercer Animals is Deprived of Its Young, it becomes as fierce as Two of the Fiercer Animals. In which case ‘Aha!’ is perhaps a foolish thing to say.”

  “Piglet,” said Rabbit, taking out a pencil, and licking the end of it, “you haven’t any pluck.”

  “It is hard to be brave,” said Piglet
, sniffing slightly, “when you’re only a Very Small Animal.”

  Rabbit, who had begun to write very busily, looked up and said:

  “It is because you are a very small animal that you will be Useful in the adventure before us.”

  Piglet was so excited at the idea of being Useful that he forgot to be frightened any more, and when Rabbit went on to say that Kangas were only Fierce during the winter months, being at other times of an Affectionate Disposition, he could hardly sit still, he was so eager to begin being useful at once.

  “What about me?” said Pooh sadly. “I suppose I shan’t be useful?”

  “Never mind, Pooh,” said Piglet comfortingly. “Another time perhaps.”

  “Without Pooh,” said Rabbit solemnly as he sharpened his pencil, “the adventure would be impossible.”

  “Oh!” said Piglet, and tried not to look disappointed. But Pooh went into a corner of the room and said proudly to himself, “Impossible without Me! That sort of Bear.”

  “Now listen all of you,” said Rabbit when he had finished writing, and Pooh and Piglet sat listening very eagerly with their mouths open. This was what Rabbit read out:

  PLAN TO CAPTURE BABY ROO

  General Remarks. Kanga runs faster than any of Us, even Me.

  More General Remarks. Kanga never takes her eye off Baby Roo, except when he’s safely buttoned up in her pocket.

  Therefore. If we are to capture Baby Roo, we must get a Long Start, because Kanga runs faster than any of Us, even Me. (See 1.)

  A Thought. If Roo had jumped out of Kanga’s pocket and Piglet had jumped in, Kanga wouldn’t know the difference, because Piglet is a Very Small Animal.

  Like Roo.

  But Kanga would have to be looking the other way first, so as not to see Piglet jumping in.

  See 2.

  Another Thought. But if Pooh was talking to her very excitedly, she might look the other way for a moment.

  And then I could run away with Roo.

  Quickly.

  And Kanga wouldn’t discover the difference until Afterwards.

  Well, Rabbit read this out proudly, and for a little while after he had read it nobody said anything. And then Piglet, who had been opening and shutting his mouth without making any noise, managed to say very huskily:

  “And—Afterwards?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “When Kanga does Discover the Difference?”

  “Then we all say ‘Aha!’”

  “All three of us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh!”

  “Why, what’s the trouble, Piglet?”

  “Nothing,” said Piglet, “as long as we all three say it. As long as we all three say it,” said Piglet, “I don’t mind,” he said, “but I shouldn’t care to say ‘Aha!’ by myself. It wouldn’t sound nearly so well. By the way,” he said, “you are quite sure about what you said about the winter months?”

  “The winter months?”

  “Yes, only being Fierce in the Winter Months.”

  “Oh, yes, yes, that’s all right. Well, Pooh? You see what you have to do?”

  “No,” said Pooh Bear. “Not yet,” he said. “What do I do?”

  “Well, you just have to talk very hard to Kanga so as she doesn’t notice anything.”

  “Oh! What about?”

  “Anything you like.”

  “You mean like telling her a little bit of poetry or something?”

  “That’s it,” said Rabbit. “Splendid. Now come along.”

  So they all went out to look for Kanga.

  Kanga and Roo were spending a quiet afternoon in a sandy part of the Forest. Baby Roo was practising very small jumps in the sand, and falling down mouse-holes and climbing out of them, and Kanga was fidgeting about and saying “Just one more jump, dear, and then we must go home.” And at that moment who should come stumping up the hill but Pooh.

  “Good afternoon, Kanga.”

  “Good afternoon, Pooh.”

  “Look at me jumping,” squeaked Roo, and fell into another mouse-hole.

  “Hallo, Roo, my little fellow!”

  “We were just going home,” said Kanga. “Good afternoon, Rabbit. Good afternoon, Piglet.”

  Rabbit and Piglet, who had now come up from the other side of the hill, said, “Good afternoon,” and “Hallo, Roo,” and Roo asked them to look at him jumping, so they stayed and looked.

  And Kanga looked too….

  “Oh, Kanga,” said Pooh, after Rabbit had winked at him twice, “I don’t know if you are interested in Poetry at all?”

  “Hardly at all,” said Kanga.

  “Oh!” said Pooh.

  “Roo, dear, just one more jump and then we must go home.”

  There was a short silence while Roo fell down another mouse-hole.

  “Go on,” said Rabbit in a loud whisper behind his paw.

  “Talking of Poetry,” said Pooh, “I made up a little piece as I was coming along. It went like this. Er—now let me see—”

  “Fancy!” said Kanga. “Now Roo, dear—”

  “You’ll like this piece of poetry,” said Rabbit.

  “You’ll love it,” said Piglet.

  “You must listen very carefully,” said Rabbit.

  “So as not to miss any of it,” said Piglet.

  “Oh, yes,” said Kanga, but she still looked at Baby Roo.

  “How did it go, Pooh?” said Rabbit.

  Pooh gave a little cough and began.

  LINES WRITTEN BY A

  BEAR OF LITTLE BRAIN

  On Monday, when the sun is hot

  I wonder to myself a lot:

  “Now is it true, or is it not,

  “That what is which and which is what?”

  On Tuesday, when it hails and snows,

  The feeling on me grows and grows

  That hardly anybody knows

  If those are these or these are those.

  On Wednesday, when the sky is blue,

  And I have nothing else to do,

  I sometimes wonder if it’s true

  That who is what and what is who.

  On Thursday, when it starts to freeze

  And hoar-frost twinkles on the trees,

  How very readily one sees

  That these are whose—but whose are these?

  On Friday—

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” said Kanga, not waiting to hear what happened on Friday. “Just one more jump, Roo, dear, and then we really must be going.”

  Rabbit gave Pooh a hurrying-up sort of nudge.

  “Talking of Poetry,” said Pooh quickly, “have you ever noticed that tree right over there?”

  “Where?” said Kanga. “Now, Roo—”

  “Right over there,” said Pooh, pointing behind Kanga’s back.

  “No,” said Kanga. “Now jump in, Roo, dear, and we’ll go home.”

  “You ought to look at that tree right over there,” said Rabbit. “Shall I lift you in, Roo?” And he picked up Roo in his paws.

  “I can see a bird in it from here,” said Pooh. “Or is it a fish?”

  “You ought to see that bird from here,” said Rabbit. “Unless it’s a fish.”

  “It isn’t a fish, it’s a bird,” said Piglet.

  “So it is,” said Rabbit.

  “Is it a starling or a blackbird?” said Pooh.

  “That’s the whole question,” said Rabbit. “Is it a blackbird or a starling?”

  And then at last Kanga did turn her head to look. And the moment that her head was turned, Rabbit said in a loud voice “In you go, Roo!” and in jumped Piglet into Kanga’s pocket, and off scampered Rabbit, with Roo in his paws, as fast as he could.

  “Why, where’s Rabbit?” said Kanga, turning round again. “Are you all right, Roo, dear?”

  Piglet made a squeaky Roo-noise from the bottom of Kanga’s pocket.

  “Rabbit had to go away,” said Pooh. “I think he thought of something he had to go and see about suddenly.”

  �
�And Piglet?”

  “I think Piglet thought of something at the same time. Suddenly.”

  “Well, we must be getting home,” said Kanga. “Good-bye, Pooh.” And in three large jumps she was gone.

  Pooh looked after her as she went.

  “I wish I could jump like that,” he thought. “Some can and some can’t. That’s how it is.”

  But there were moments when Piglet wished that Kanga couldn’t. Often, when he had had a long walk home through the Forest, he had wished that he were a bird; but now he thought jerkily to himself at the bottom of Kanga’s pocket,

  And as he went up in the air, he said, “Ooooooo!” and as he came down he said, “Ow!” And he was saying, “Ooooooo-ow, Ooooooo-ow, Ooooooo-ow” all the way to Kanga’s house.

  Of course as soon as Kanga unbuttoned her pocket, she saw what had happened. Just for a moment, she thought she was frightened, and then she knew she wasn’t; for she felt quite sure that Christopher Robin would never let any harm happen to Roo. So she said to herself, “If they are having a joke with me, I will have a joke with them.”

  “Now then, Roo, dear,” she said, as she took Piglet out of her pocket. “Bed-time.”

  “Aha!” said Piglet, as well as he could after his Terrifying Journey. But it wasn’t a very good “Aha!” and Kanga didn’t seem to understand what it meant.

  “Bath first,” said Kanga in a cheerful voice.

  “Aha!” said Piglet again, looking round anxiously for the others. But the others weren’t there. Rabbit was playing with Baby Roo in his own house, and feeling more fond of him every minute, and Pooh, who had decided to be a Kanga, was still at the sandy place on the top of the Forest, practising jumps.

  “I am not at all sure,” said Kanga in a thoughtful voice, “that it wouldn’t be a good idea to have a cold bath this evening. Would you like that, Roo, dear?”

  Piglet, who had never been really fond of baths, shuddered a long indignant shudder, and said in as brave a voice as he could:

  “Kanga, I see the time has come to spleak painly.”

  “Funny little Roo,” said Kanga, as she got the bath-water ready.