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 too late.

      Piglet said that, now that this point had been explained, he thought it was a Cunning Trap.

      Pooh was very proud when he heard this, and he felt that the Heffalump was as good as caught already, but there was just one other thing which had to be thought about, and it was this. Where should they dig the Very Deep Pit?

      Piglet said that the best place would be somewhere where a Heffalump was, just before he fell into it, only about a foot farther on.

      "But then he would see us digging it," said Pooh.

      "Not if he was looking at the sky."

      "He would Suspect," said Pooh, "if he happened to look down." He thought for a long time and then added sadly, "It isn't as easy as I thought. I suppose that's why Heffalumps hardly ever get caught."

      "That must be it," said Piglet.

      They sighed and got up; and when they had taken a few gorse prickles out of themselves they sat down again; and all the time Pooh was saying to himself, "If only I could think of something!" For he felt sure that a Very Clever Brain could catch a Heffalump if only he knew the right way to go about it. "Suppose," he said to Piglet, "you wanted to catch me, how would you do it?"

      "Well," said Piglet, "I should do it like this. I should make a Trap, and I should put a Jar of Honey in the Trap, and you would smell it, and you would go in after it, and -- "

      "And I would go in after it," said Pooh excitedly, "only very carefully so as not to hurt myself, and I would get to the Jar of Honey, and I should lick round the edges first of all, pretending that there wasn't any more, you know, and then I should walk away and think about it a little, and then I should come back and start licking in the middle of the jar, and then -- "

      "Yes, well never mind about that where you would be, and there I should catch you. Now the first thing to think of is, What do Heffalumps like? I should think acorns, shouldn't you? We'll get a lot of -- I say, wake up, Pooh!"

Pooh, who had gone into a happy dream, woke up with a start, and said that Honey was a much more trappy thing than Haycorns. Piglet didn't think so; and they were just going to argue about it, when Piglet remembered that, if they put acorns in the Trap, he would have to find the acorns, but if they put honey, then Pooh would have to give up some of his own honey, so he said, "All right, honey then," just as Pooh remembered it too, and was going to say, "All right, haycorns." "Honey," said Piglet to himself in a thoughtful way, as if it were now settled. "I'll dig the pit, while you go and get the honey."

      "Very well," said Pooh, and he stumped off.

      As soon as he got home, he went to the larder; and he stood on a chair, and took down a very large jar of honey from the top shelf. It had HUNNY written on it, but, just to make sure, he took off the paper cover and looked at it, and it looked just like honey. "But you never can tell," said Pooh. "I remember my uncle saying once that he had seen cheese just this colour." So he put his tongue in, and took a large lick. "Yes," he said, "it is. No doubt about that. And honey, I should say, right down to the bottom of the jar. Unless, of course," he said, "somebody put cheese in at the bottom just for a joke. Perhaps I had better go a little further . . . just in case . . . in case Heffalumps don't like cheese . . . same as me. . . . Ah!" And he gave a deep sigh. "I was right. It is honey, right the way down."

      Having made certain of this, he took the jar back to Piglet, and Piglet looked up from the bottom of his Very Deep Pit, and said, "Got it?" and Pooh said, "Yes, but it isn't quite a full jar," and he threw it down to Piglet, and Piglet said, "No, it isn't! Is that all you've got left?" and Pooh said, "Yes." Because it was. So Piglet put the jar at the bottom of the Pit, and climbed out, and they went off home together.

      "Well, good night, Pooh," said Piglet, when they had got to Pooh's house. "And we meet at six o'clock to-morrow morning by the Pine Trees, and see how many Heffalumps we've got in our Trap."

      "Six o'clock, Piglet. And have you got any string?"

      "No. Why do you want string?"

      "To lead them home with."

      "Oh! . . . I think Heffalumps come if you whistle."

      "Some do and some don't. You never can tell with Heffalumps. Well, good night!"

      "Good night!"

      And off Piglet trotted to his house TRESPASSERS W, while Pooh made his preparations for bed.

      Some hours later, just as the night was beginning to steal away, Pooh woke up suddenly with a sinking feeling. He had had that sinking feeling before, and he knew what it meant. He was hungry. So he went to the larder, and he stood on a chair and reached up to the top shelf, and found -- nothing.

      "That's funny," he thought. "I know I had a jar of honey there. A full jar, full of honey right up to the top, and it had HUNNY written on it, so that I should know it was honey. That's very funny." And then he began to wander up and down, wondering where it was and murmuring a murmur to himself. Like this:


     
      It's very, very funny,
      'Cos I know I had some honey:
      'Cos it had a label on,
      Saying HUNNY,
      A goloptious full-up pot too,
      And I don't know where it's got to,
      No, I don't know where it's gone --
      Well, it's funny.
     

      He had murmured this to himself three times in a singing sort of way, when suddenly he remembered. He had put it into the Cunning Trap to catch the Heffalump.

      "Bother!" said Pooh. "It all comes of trying to be kind to Heffalumps." And he got back into bed.

      But he couldn't sleep. The more he tried to sleep, the more he couldn't. He tried Counting Sheep, which is sometimes a good way of getting to sleep, and, as that was no good, he tried counting Heffalumps. And that was worse. Because every Heffalump that he counted was making straight for a pot of Pooh's honey, and eating it all. For some minutes he lay there miserably, but when the five hundred and eighty-seventh Heffalump was licking its jaws, and saying to itself, "Very good honey this, I don't know when I've tasted better," Pooh could bear it no longer. He jumped out of bed, he ran out of the house, and he ran straight to the Six Pine Trees.

      The Sun was still in bed, but there was a lightness in the sky over the Hundred Acre Wood which seemed to show that it was waking up and would soon be kicking off the clothes. In the half-light the Pine Trees looked cold and lonely, and the Very Deep Pit seemed deeper than it was, and Pooh's jar of honey at the bottom was something mysterious, a shape and no more. But as he got nearer lo it his nose told him that it was indeed honey, and his tongue came out and began to polish up his mouth, ready for it.

"Bother!" said Pooh, as he got his nose inside the jar. "A Heffalump has been eating it!" And then he thought a little and said, "Oh, no, I did. I forgot."

      Indeed, he had eaten most of it. But there was a little left at the very bottom of the jar, and he pushed his head right in, and began to lick....


       



      By and by Piglet woke up. As soon as he woke he said to himself, "Oh!" Then he said bravely, "Yes," and then, still more bravely, "Quite so." But he didn't feel very brave, for the word which was really jiggeting about in his brain was "Heffalumps."

      What was a Heffalump like?

      Was it Fierce?

      Did it come when you whistled? And how did it come?

      Was it Fond of Pigs at all?

      If it was Fond of Pigs, did it make any difference what sort of Pig?

      Supposing it was Fierce with Pigs, would it make any difference if the Pig had a grandfather called TRESPASSERS WILLIAM?

      He didn't know the answer to any of these questions . . . and he was going to see his first Heffalump in about an hour from now!

      Of course Pooh would be with him, and it was much more Friendly with two. But suppose Heffalumps were Very Fierce with Pigs and Bears?

      Wouldn't it be better to pretend that he had a headache, and couldn't go up to the Six Pine Trees this morning? But then suppose that it was a very fine day, and there was no Heffalump in the trap, here he would be, in bed all the morning, simply wasting his time for nothing. What should he do?

      And then he had a Clever Idea. He would go up very quietly to the Six Pine Trees now, peep very cautiously into the Trap, and see if there was a Heffalump there. And if there was, he would go back to bed, and if there wasn't, he wouldn't.

      So off he went. At first he thought that there wouldn't be a Heffalump in the Trap, and then he thought that there would, and as he got nearer he was sure that there would, because he could hear it heffalumping about it like anything.

      "Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear!" said Piglet to himself. And he wanted to run away. But somehow, having got so near, he felt that he must just see what a Heffalump was like. So he crept to the side of the Trap and looked in.

      And all the time Winnie-the-Pooh had been trying to get the honey-jar off his head. The more he shook it, the more tightly it stuck. "Bother!" he said, inside the jar, and "Oh, help!" and, mostly, "Ow!" And he tried bumping it against things, but as he couldn't see what he was bumping it against, it didn't help him; and he tried to climb out of the Trap, but as he could see nothing but jar, and not much of that, he couldn't find his way. So at last he lifted up his head, jar and all, and made a loud, roaring noise of Sadness and Despair . . . and it was at that moment that Piglet looked down.

      "Help, help!" cried Piglet, "a Heffalump, a Horrible Heffalump!" and he scampered off as hard as he could, still crying out, "Help, help, a Herrible Hoffalump! Hoff, Hoff, a Hellible Horralump! Holl, Holl, a Hoffable Hellerump!" And he didn't stop crying and scampering until he got to Christopher Robin's house.

      "Whatever's the matter, Piglet?" said Christopher Robin, who was just getting up.

      "Heff," said Piglet, breathing so hard that he could hardly speak, "a Heff -- a Heff -- a Heffalump."

      "Where?"

      "Up there," said Piglet, waving his paw.

      "What did it look like?"

      "Like -- like -- It had the biggest head you ever saw, Christopher Robin. A great enormous thing, like -- like nothing. A huge big -- well, like a -- I don't know -- like an enormous big nothing. Like a jar."

      "Well," said Christopher Robin, putting on his shoes, "I shall go and look at it. Come on."

      Piglet wasn't afraid if he had Christopher Robin with him, so off they went....

      "I can hear it, can't you?" said Piglet anxiously, as they got near.

      "I can hear something," said Christopher Robin.

      It was Pooh bumping his head against a tree-root he had found.

      "There!" said Piglet. "Isn't it awful?" And he held on tight to Christopher Robin's hand.

      Suddenly Christopher Robin began to laugh . . . and he laughed . . and he laughed . . . and he laughed. And while he was still laughing -- Crash went the Heffalump's head against the tree-root, Smash went the jar, and out came Pooh's head again....

      Then Piglet saw what a Foolish Piglet he had been, and he was so ashamed of himself that he ran straight off home and went to bed with a headache. But Christopher Robin and Pooh went home to breakfast together.

      "Oh, Bear!" said Christopher Robin. "How I do love you!"

      "So do I," said Pooh.

      EEYORE, the old grey Donkey, stood by the side of the stream, and looked at himself in the water.

      "Pathetic," he said. s' That's what it is. Pathetic."

      He turned and walked slowly down the stream for twenty yards, splashed across it, and walked slowly back on the other side. Then he looked at himself in the water again.

      "As I thought," he said. "No better from this side. But nobody minds. Nobody cares. Pathetic, that's what it is."

      There was a crackling noise in the bracken behind him, and out came Pooh.

      "Good morning, Eeyore," said Pooh.

      "Good morning, Pooh Bear," said Eeyore gloomily. "If it is a good morning," he said. "Which I doubt," said he.

      "Why, what's the matter?"

      "Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can't all, and some of us don't. That's all there is to it."

      "Can't all what?" said Pooh, rubbing his nose.

      "Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush."

      "Oh!" said Pooh. He thought for a long time, and then asked, "What mulberry bush is that?"

      "Bon-hommy," went on Eeyore gloomily. "French word meaning bonhommy," he explained. "I'm not complaining, but There It Is."

      Pooh sat down on a large stone, and tried to think this out. It sounded to him like a riddle, and he was never much good at riddles, being a Bear of Very Little Brain. So he sang Cottleston Pie instead:


     
      Cottleslon, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie.
      A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly.
      Ask me a riddle and I reply:
      "Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie."
     

      That was the first verse. When he had finished it, Eeyore didn't actually say that he didn't like it, so Pooh very kindly sang the second verse to him:


     
      Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,
      A fish can't whistle and neither can I.
      Ask me a riddle and I reply:
      "Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie."
     

      Eeyore still said nothing at all, so Pooh hummed the third verse quietly to himself:


     
      Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,
      Why does a chicken, I don't know why.
      Ask me a riddle and I reply:
      "Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie."
     

      "That's right," said Eeyore. "Sing. Umty-tiddly, umty-too. Here we go gathering Nuts and May. Enjoy yourself."

      "I am," said Pooh.

      "Some can," said Eeyore.

      "Why, what's the matter?"

      "Is anything the matter?"

      "You seem so sad, Eeyore."

      "Sad? Why should I be sad? It's my birthday. The happiest day of the year."

      "Your birthday?" said Pooh in great surprise.

      "Of course it is. Can't you see? Look at all the presents I have had." He waved a foot from side to side. "Look at the birthday cake. Candles and pink sugar."

      Pooh looked -- first to the right and then to the left.

      "Presents?" said Pooh. "Birthday cake?" said Pooh. "Where?"

      "Can't you see them?"

      "No," said Pooh.

      "Neither can I," said Eeyore. "Joke," he explained. "Ha ha!"

      Pooh scratched his head, being a little puzzled by all this.

      "But is it really your birthday?" he asked.

      "It is."

      "Oh! Well, Many happy returns of the day, Eeyore."

      "And many happy returns to you, Pooh Bear."

      "But it isn't my birthday."

      "No, it's mine."

      "But you said 'Many happy returns' -- "

      "Well, why not? You don't always want to be miserable on my birthday, do you?"

      "Oh, I see," said Pooh.

      "It's bad enough." said Eeyore. almost breaking down "being miserable myself, what with no presents and no cake and no candles, and no proper notice taken of me at all, but if everybody else is going to be miserable too -- "

This was too much for Pooh. "Stay there!" he called to Eeyore, as he turned and hurried back home as quick as he could; for he felt that he must get poor Eeyore a present of some sort at once, and he could always think of a proper one afterwards.

      Outside his house he found Piglet, jumping up and down trying to reach the knocker.

      "Hallo, Piglet," he said.

      "Hallo, Pooh," said Piglet.

      "What are you trying to do?"

      "I was trying to reach the knocker," said Piglet. "I just came round -- "

      "Let me do it for you," said Pooh kindly. So he reached up and knocked at the door. "I have just seen Eeyore is in a Very Sad Condition, because it's his birthday, and nobody has taken any notice of it, and he's very Gloomy -- you know what Eeyore is -- and there he was, and -What a long time whoever lives here is answering this door." And he knocked again.

      "But Pooh," said Piglet, "it's your own house!"

      "Oh!" said Pooh. "So it is," he said. "Well, let's go in."



       



      So in they went. The first thing Pooh did was to go to the cupboard to see if he had quite a small jar of honey left; and he had, so he took it down.

      "I'm giving this to Eeyore," he explained, "as a present. What are you going to give?"

      "Couldn't I give it too?" said Piglet. "From both of us?"

      "No," said Pooh. "That would not be a good plan."

      "All right, then, I'll give him a balloon. I've got one left from my party. I'll go and get it now, shall I?"

      "That, Piglet, is a very good idea. It is just what Eeyore wants to cheer him up. Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon."

      So off Piglet trotted; and in the other direction went Pooh, with his jar of honey.

      It was a warm day, and he had a long way to go. He hadn't gone more than half-way when a sort of funny feeling began to creep all over him. It began at the tip of his nose and trickled all through him and out at the soles of his feet. It was just as if somebody inside him were saying, "Now then, Pooh, time for a little something."

      "Dear, dear," said Pooh, "I didn't know it was as late as that." So he sat down and took the top off his jar of honey. "Lucky I brought this with me," he thought. "Many a bear going out on a warm day like this would never have thought of bringing a little something with him." And he began to eat.

      "Now let me see," he thought! as he took his last lick of the inside of the jar, "Where was I going? Ah, yes, Eeyore." He got up slowly.

      And then, suddenly, he remembered. He had eaten Eeyore's birthday present!

      "Bother!" said Pooh. "What shall I do? I must give him something."

      For a little while he couldn't think of anything. Then he thought: "Well, it's a very nice pot, even if there's no honey in it, and if I washed it clean, and got somebody to write 'A Happy Birthday' on it, Eeyore could keep things in it, which might be Useful." So, as he was just passing the Hundred Acre Wood, he went inside to call on Owl, who lived there.

      "Good morning, Owl," he said.

      "Good morning, Pooh," said Owl.

      "Many happy returns of Eeyore's birthday," said Pooh.

      "Oh, is that what it is?"

      "What are you giving him, Owl?"

      "What are you giving him, Pooh?"

      "I'm giving him a Useful Pot to Keep Things In, and I wanted to ask you "

      "Is this it?" said Owl, taking it out of Pooh's paw.

      "Yes, and I wanted to ask you -- "

      "Somebody has been keeping honey in it," said Owl.

      "You can keep anything in it," said Pooh earnestly. "It's Very Useful like that. And I wanted to ask you -- "

      "You ought to write 'A Happy Birthday' on it."

      "That was what I wanted to ask you," said Pooh. "Because my spelling is Wobbly. It's good spelling but it Wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places. Would you write 'A Happy Birthday' on it for me?"

      "It's a nice pot," said Owl, looking at it all round. "Couldn't I give it too? From both of us?"

      "No," said Pooh. "That would not be a good plan. Now I'll just wash it first, and then you can write on it."

      Well, he washed the pot out, and dried it, while Owl licked the end of his pencil, and wondered how to spell "birthday."

      "Can you read, Pooh?" he asked a little anxiously. "There's a notice about knocking and ringing outside my door, which Christopher Robin wrote. Could you read it?"

      "Christopher Robin told me what it said, and then I could."

      "Well, I'll tell you what this says, and then you'll be able to."

 So Owl wrote . . . and this is what he wrote:

     
      HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH THUTHDA BTHUTHDY.
     


      Pooh looked on admiringly.


      "I'm just saying 'A Happy Birthday'," said Owl carelessly.

      "It's a nice long one," said Pooh, very much impressed by it.

      "Well, actually, of course, I'm saying 'A Very Happy Birthday with love from Pooh.' Naturally it takes a good deal of pencil to say a long thing like that."

      "Oh, I see," said Pooh.

      While all this was happening, Piglet had gone back to his own house to get Eeyore's balloon. He held it very tightly against himself, so that it shouldn't blow away, and he ran as fast as he could so as to get to Eeyore before Pooh did; for he thought that he would like to be the first one to give a present, just as if he had thought of it without being told by anybody. And running along, and thinking how pleased Eeyore would be, he didn't look where he was going . . . and suddenly he put his foot in a rabbit hole, and fell down flat on his face.

     
      BANG!!!???***!!!
     

       

      Piglet lay there, wondering what had happened. At first he thought that the whole world had blown up; and then he thought that perhaps only the Forest part of it had; and then he thought that perhaps only he had, and he was now alone in the moon or somewhere, and would never see Christopher Robin or Pooh or Eeyore again. And then he thought, "Well, even if I'm in the moon, I needn't be face downwards all the time," so he got cautiously up and looked about him.

      He was still in the Forest!

      "Well, that's funny," he thought. "I wonder what that bang was. I couldn't have made such a noise just falling down. And where's my balloon? And what's that small piece of damp rag doing?"

      It was the balloon!

      "Oh, dear!" said Piglet. "Oh, dear, oh, dearie, dearie, dear! Well, it's too late now. I can't go back, and I haven't another balloon, and perhaps Eeyore doesn't like balloons so very much."

      So he trotted on, rather sadly now, and down he came to the side of the stream where Eeyore was, and called out to him.

      "Good morning, Eeyore," shouted Piglet.

      "Good morning, Little Piglet," said Eeyore. "If it is a good morning," he said. "Which I doubt," said he. "Not that it matters," he said.

      "Many happy returns of the day," said Piglet, having now got closer.

      Eeyore stopped looking at himself in the stream, and turned to stare at Piglet.

      "Just say that again," he said.

      "Many hap -- "

      "Wait a moment."

      Balancing on three legs, he began to bring his fourth leg very cautiously up to his ear. "I did this yesterday," he explained, as he fell down for the third time. "It's quite easy. It's so as I can hear better. ... There, that's done it! Now then, what were you saying?" He pushed his ear forward with his hoof.

      "Many happy returns of the day," said Piglet again.

      "Meaning me?"

      "Of course, Eeyore."

      "My birthday?"

      "Yes."

      "Me having a real birthday?"

      "Yes, Eeyore, and I've brought you a present."

      Eeyore took down his right hoof from his right ear, turned round, and with great difficulty put up his left hoof.

      "I must have that in the other ear," he said. "Now then."

      "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 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 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?

      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 -- or -- 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 had 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
     

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

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

      3. 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 I.)

      4. 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.

      5. Like Roo.

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

      7. See 2.

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

      9. And then I could run away with Roo.

      10. Quickly.

      11. 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.