Now We Are Six

by A. A. Milne

  “Allow me to extract you from

  The heavy armour that you wear.

  At times like these the bravest Knight

  May find his armour much too tight.”

  A hundred yards or so beyond

  The scene of brave Sir Hugh’s defeat

  Sir Thomas found a useful pond,

  And, careful not to wet his feet,

  He brought the armour to the brink

  And flung it in…and watched it sink.

  So ever after, more and more,

  The men of Kent would proudly speak

  Of Thomas Tom of Appledore,

  “The Knight Whose Armour Didn’t Squeak”

  Whilst Hugh, the Knight who gave him best,

  Squeaks just as badly as the rest.

  Buttercup Days

  Where is Anne?

  Head above the buttercups,

  Walking by the stream,

  Down among the buttercups.

  Where is Anne?

  Walking with her man,

  Lost in a dream,

  Lost among the buttercups.

  What has she got in that little brown head?

  Wonderful thoughts which can never be said.

  What has she got in that firm little fist of hers?

  Somebody’s thumb, and it feels like Christopher’s.

  Where is Anne?

  Close to her man.

  Brown head, gold head,

  In and out the buttercups.

  The Charcoal-Burner

  The charcoal-burner has tales to tell.

  He lives in the Forest,

  Alone in the Forest;

  He sits in the Forest,

  Alone in the Forest.

  And the sun comes slanting between the trees,

  And rabbits come up, and they give him good-morning,

  And rabbits come up and say, “Beautiful morning….”

  And the moon swings clear of the tall black trees,

  And owls fly over and wish him good-night,

  Quietly over to wish him good-night….

  And he sits and thinks of the things they know,

  He and the Forest, alone together—

  The springs that come and the summers that go,

  Autumn dew on bracken and heather,

  The drip of the Forest beneath the snow….

  All the things they have seen,

  All the things they have heard:

  An April sky swept clean and the song of a bird…

  Oh, the charcoal-burner has tales to tell!

  And he lives in the Forest and knows us well.

  Us Two

  Wherever I am, there’s always Pooh,

  There’s always Pooh and Me.

  Whatever I do, he wants to do,

  “Where are you going today?” says Pooh:

  “Well, that’s very odd ’cos I was too.

  Let’s go together,” says Pooh, says he.

  “Let’s go together,” says Pooh.

  “What’s twice eleven?” I said to Pooh.

  (“Twice what?” said Pooh to Me.)

  “I think it ought to be twenty-two.”

  “Just what I think myself,” said Pooh.

  “It wasn’t an easy sum to do,

  But that’s what it is,” said Pooh, said he.

  “That’s what it is,” said Pooh.

  “Let’s look for dragons,” I said to Pooh.

  “Yes, let’s,” said Pooh to Me.

  We crossed the river and found a few—

  “Yes, those are dragons all right,” said Pooh.

  “As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.

  That’s what they are,” said Pooh, said he.

  “That’s what they are,” said Pooh.

  “Let’s frighten the dragons,” I said to Pooh.

  “That’s right,” said Pooh to Me.

  “ I’m not afraid,” I said to Pooh,

  And I held his paw and I shouted “Shoo!

  Silly old dragons!”—and off they flew.

  “I wasn’t afraid,” said Pooh, said he,

  “I’m never afraid with you.”

  So wherever I am, there’s always Pooh,

  There’s always Pooh and Me.

  “What would I do?” I said to Pooh,

  “If it wasn’t for you,” and Pooh said: “True,

  It isn’t much fun for One, but Two

  Can stick together,” says Pooh, says he.

  “That’s how it is,” says Pooh.

  The Old Sailor

  There was once an old sailor my grandfather knew

  Who had so many things which he wanted to do

  That, whenever he thought it was time to begin,

  He couldn’t because of the state he was in.

  He was shipwrecked, and lived on an island for weeks,

  And he wanted a hat, and he wanted some breeks;

  And he wanted some nets, or a line and some hooks

  For turtles and things which you read of in books.

  And, thinking of this, he remembered a thing

  Which he wanted (for water) and that was a spring;

  And he thought that to talk to he’d look for, and keep

  (If he found it) a goat, or some chickens and sheep.

  Then, because of the weather, he wanted a hut

  With a door (to come in by) which opened and shut

  (With a jerk, which was useful if snakes were about),

  And a very strong lock to keep savages out.

  He began on the fish-hooks, and when he’d begun

  He decided he couldn’t because of the sun.

  So he knew what he ought to begin with, and that

  Was to find, or to make, a large sun-stopping hat.

  He was making the hat with some leaves from a tree,

  When he thought, “I’m as hot as a body can be,

  And I’ve nothing to take for my terrible thirst;

  So I’ll look for a spring, and I’ll look for it first .”

  Then he thought as he started, “Oh, dear and oh, dear!

  I’ll be lonely tomorrow with nobody here!”

  So he made in his note-book a couple of notes:

  “ I must first find some chickens ”

  and “ No, I mean goats .”

  He had just seen a goat (which he knew by the shape)

  When he thought, “But I must have a boat for escape.

  But a boat means a sail, which means needles and thread;

  So I’d better sit down and make needles instead.”

  He began on a needle, but thought as he worked,

  That, if this was an island where savages lurked,

  Sitting safe in his hut he’d have nothing to fear,

  Whereas now they might suddenly breathe in his ear!

  So he thought of his hut…and he thought of his boat,

  And his hat and his breeks, and his chickens and goat,

  And the hooks (for his food) and the spring (for his thirst)…

  But he never could think which he ought to do first.

  And so in the end he did nothing at all,

  But basked on the shingle wrapped up in a shawl.

  And I think it was dreadful the way he behaved—

  He did nothing but basking until he was saved!

  The Engineer

  Let it rain!

  Who cares?

  I’ve a train

  Upstairs,

  With a brake

  Which I make

  From a string

  Sort of thing,

  Which works

  In jerks,

  ’Cos it drops

  In the spring,

  Which stops

  With the string,

  And the wheels

  All stick

  So quick

  That it feels

  Like a thing

  That you make

  With a brake,

  Not string….

  So that’s what I make,
r />   When the day’s all wet.

  It’s a good sort of brake

  But it hasn’t worked yet.

  Journey’s End

  Christopher, Christopher, where are you going ,

  Christopher Robin ?

  “Just up to the top of the hill,

  Upping and upping until

  I am right on the top of the hill,”

  Said Christopher Robin.

  Christopher, Christopher, where are you going ,

  Christopher Robin ?

  There’s nothing to see, so when

  You’ve got to the top, what then ?

  “Just down to the bottom again,”

  Said Christopher Robin.

  Furry Bear

  If I were a bear,

  And a big bear too,

  I shouldn’t much care

  If it froze or snew;

  I shouldn’t much mind

  If it snowed or friz—

  I’d be all fur-lined

  With a coat like his!

  For I’d have fur boots and a brown fur wrap,

  And brown fur knickers and a big fur cap.

  I’d have a fur muffle-ruff to cover my jaws,

  And brown fur mittens on my big brown paws.

  With a big brown furry-down up to my head,

  I’d sleep all the winter in a big fur bed.

  Forgiven

  I found a little beetle, so that Beetle was his name,

  And I called him Alexander and he answered just the same.

  I put him in a match-box, and I kept him

  all the day…

  And Nanny let my beetle out—

  Yes, Nanny let my beetle out—

  She went and let my beetle out—

  And Beetle ran away.

  She said she didn’t mean it, and I never said she did,

  She said she wanted matches and she just took off the lid,

  She said that she was sorry, but it’s difficult to catch

  An excited sort of beetle you’ve mistaken for a match.

  She said that she was sorry, and I really mustn’t mind,

  As there’s lots and lots of beetles which she’s certain we could find

  If we looked about the garden for the holes where beetles hid—

  And we’d get another match-box and write

  BEETLE on the lid.

  We went to all the places which a beetle might be near,

  And we made the sort of noises which a beetle likes to hear,

  And I saw a kind of something, and I gave a sort of shout:

  “A beetle-house and Alexander Beetle coming out!”

  It was Alexander Beetle I’m as certain as can be

  And he had a sort of look as if he thought it must be ME,

  And he had a sort of look as if he thought he ought to say:

  “I’m very, very sorry that I tried to run away.”

  And Nanny’s very sorry too for you-know-what-she-did,

  And she’s writing ALEXANDER very blackly on the lid.

  So Nan and Me are friends, because it’s difficult to catch

  An excited Alexander you’ve mistaken for a match.

  The Emperor’s Rhyme

  The King of Peru

  (Who was Emperor too)

  Had a sort of a rhyme

  Which was useful to know,

  If he felt very shy

  When a stranger came by,

  Or they asked him the time

  When his watch didn’t go;

  Or supposing he fell

  (By mistake) down a well,

  Or he tumbled when skating

  And sat on his hat,

  Or perhaps wasn’t told,

  Till his porridge was cold,

  That his breakfast was waiting

  Or something like that;

  Oh, whenever the Emperor

  Got into a temper, or

  Felt himself sulky or sad,

  He would murmur and murmur,

  Until he felt firmer,

  This curious rhyme which he had:

  Eight eights are sixty-four ;

  Multiply by seven .

  When it’s done ,

  Carry one ,

  And take away eleven .

  Nine nines are eighty-one ;

  Multiply by three .

  If it’s more ,

  Carry four ,

  And then it’s time for tea .

  So whenever the Queen

  Took his armour to clean,

  And she didn’t remember

  To use any starch;

  Or his birthday (in May)

  Was a horrible day,

  Being wet as November

  And windy as March;

  Or, if sitting in state

  With the Wise and the Great,

  He just happened to hiccup

  While signing his name,

  Or the Queen gave a cough,

  When his crown tumbled off

  As he bent down to pick up

  A pen for the same;

  Oh, whenever the Emperor

  Got into a temper, or

  Felt himself awkward and shy,

  He would whisper and whisper,

  Until he felt crisper,

  This odd little rhyme to the sky:

  Eight eights are eighty-one ;

  Multiply by seven .

  If it’s more ,

  Carry four ,

  And take away eleven .

  Nine nines are sixty-four ;

  Multiply by three .

  When it’s done ,

  Carry one ,

  And then it’s time for tea .

  Knight-in-Armour

  Whenever I’m a shining Knight,

  I buckle on my armour tight;

  And then I look about for things,

  Like Rushings-Out, and Rescuings,

  And Savings from the Dragon’s Lair,

  And fighting all the Dragons there.

  And sometimes when our fights begin,

  I think I’ll let the Dragons win…

  And then I think perhaps I won’t,

  Because they’re Dragons, and I don’t.

  Come Out with Me

  There’s sun on the river and sun on the hill ….

  You can hear the sea if you stand quite still!

  There’s eight new puppies at Roundabout Farm—

  And I saw an old sailor with only one arm!

  But every one says, “Run along!”

  (Run along, run along!)

  All of them say, “Run along! I’m busy as can be.”

  Every one says, “Run along,

  There’s a little darling!”

  If I’m a little darling, why don’t they run with me?

  There’s wind on the river and wind on the hill …

  There’s a dark dead water-wheel under the mill!

  I saw a fly which had just been drowned—

  And I know where a rabbit goes into the ground!

  But every one says, “Run along!”

  (Run along, run along!)

  All of them say, “Yes, dear,” and never notice me.

  Every one says, “Run along,

  There’s a little darling!”

  If I’m a little darling, why won’t they come and see?

  Down by the Pond

  I’m fishing .

  Don’t talk, anybody, don’t come near!

  Can’t you see that the fish might hear?

  He thinks I’m playing with a piece of string;

  He thinks I’m another sort of funny sort of thing,

  But he doesn’t know I’m fishing —

  He doesn’t know I’m fishing .

  That’s what I’m doing—

  Fishing.

  No, I’m not, I’m newting .

  Don’t cough, anybody, don’t come by!

  Any small noise makes a newt feel shy.

  He thinks I’m a bush, or a new sort of tree;

  He thinks it’s somebody, but does
n’t think it’s Me,

  And he doesn’t know I’m newting—

  No, he doesn’t know I’m newting .

  That’s what I’m doing—

  Newting.

  The Little Black Hen

  Berryman and Baxter,

  Prettiboy and Penn

  And old Farmer Middleton

  Are five big men…

  And all of them were after

  The Little Black Hen.

  She ran quickly,

  They ran fast;

  Baxter was first, and

  Berryman was last.

  I sat and watched

  By the old plum-tree…

  She squawked through the hedge

  And she came to me.

  The Little Black Hen

  Said “Oh, it’s you!”

  I said “Thank you,

  How do you do?

  And please will you tell me,

  Little Black Hen,

  What did they want,

  Those five big men?”

  The Little Black Hen

  She said to me:

  “They want me to lay them

  An egg for tea.

  If they were Emperors,

  If they were Kings.

  I’m much too busy

  To lay them things.”

  “I’m not a King

  And I haven’t a crown;

  I climb up trees,

  And I tumble down.

  I can shut one eye,

  I can count to ten,

  So lay me an egg, please,

  Little Black Hen.”

  The Little Black Hen said,

  “What will you pay,

  If I lay you an egg

  For Easter Day?”

  “I’ll give you a Please

  And a How-do-you-do,

  I’ll show you the Bear

  Who lives in the Zoo,

  I’ll show you the nettle-place