Now it happened that Kanga  had  felt  rather  motherly that  morning,  and  Wanting to Count Things--like Roo's vests, and how many pieces of soap there were left, and the two  clean spots  in  Tigger's  feeder;  so  she  had sent them out with a packet of  watercress  sandwiches  for  Roo  and  a  packet  of extract-of-malt  sandwiches  for  Tigger,  to  have a nice long morning in the Forest not getting into mischief. And  off  they had gone.
        And  as they went, Tigger told Roo (who wanted to know) all about the things that Tiggers could do.
        "Can they fly?" asked Roo.
        "Yes," said Tigger, "they're very good flyers,  Tiggers are. Strornry good flyers."
        "Oo!" said Roo. "Can they fly as well as Owl?"
        "Yes," said Tigger. "Only they don't want to."
        "Why don't they want to?" well, they just don't like it somehow."
        Roo  couldn't  understand  this,  because he thought it would be lovely to be able to  fly,  but  Tigger  said  it  was difficult to explain to anybody who wasn't a Tigger himself.
        "Well," said Roo, "can they jump as far as Kangas?"
        "Yes," said Tigger. "When they want to."
        "I  love  jumping,"  said  Roo. "Let's see who can jump farthest, you or me."
        "I can," said Tigger. "But we mustn't stop now,  or  we shall be late."
        "Late for what?"
        "For  whatever we want to be in time for," said Tigger, hurrying on.
        In a little while they came to the Six Pine Trees.
        "I can swim," said Roo. "I fell into the river,  and  I swimmed. Can Tiggers swim?"
        "Of course they can. Tiggers can do everything."
        "Can  they  climb  trees  better than Pooh?" asked Roo, stopping under the tallest Pine Tree, and looking up at it.
        "Climbing trees is what they  do  best,"  said  Tigger. "Much better than Poohs."
        "Could they climb this one?"
        "They're always climbing trees like that," said Tigger. "Up and down all day."
        "Oo, Tigger, are they really?"
        "I'll  show you," said Tigger bravely, "and you can sit on my back and watch me. "For of all the things  which  he  had said  Tiggers  could  do,  the  only one he felt really certain
about suddenly was climbing trees.
        "Oo,  Tigger--oo,  Tigger--oo,  Tigger!"  squeaked  Roo excitedly.
        So he sat on Tigger's back and up they went.
        And  for  the  first  ten  feet  Tigger said happily to himself, "Up we go!"
        And for the next ten feet he said:
        "I always said Tiggers could climb trees."
        And for the next ten feet he said:
        "Not that it's easy, mind you."
        And for the next ten feet he said:
        "Of course, there's the coming-down too. Backwards."
        And then he said:
        "Which will be difficult . . ."
        "Unless one fell . . ."
        "When it would be . . ."
        "EASY."
        And at the word "easy," the branch he was  standing  on broke  suddenly, and he just managed to clutch at the one above him as he felt himself going . . . and then slowly he  got  his chin  over  it  .  . . and then one back paw . . . and then the other . . . until at last he was sitting on it, breathing  very quickly, and wishing that he had gone in for swimming instead.

        Roo climbed off, and sat down next to him.
        "Oo, Tigger," he said excitedly, "are we at the top?
        "No," said Tigger.
        "Are we going to the top?"
        "No," said Tigger.
        "Oh!"  said  Roo  rather  sadly.  And  then  he went on hopefully: "That was a lovely bit just now, when you  pretended we  were  going to fall-bump-to-the-bottom, and we didn't. Will you do that bit again?"
        "No," said Tigger.
        Roo was silent for a little while, and  then  he  said, "Shall  we  eat our sandwiches, Tigger?" And Tigger said, "Yes, where are they?" And Roo said, "At the bottom of the tree." And Tigger said, "I don't think we'd better eat them just yet."  So they didn't.
        By-and-by  Pooh and Piglet came along. Pooh was telling Piglet in a singing voice that it didn't seem to matter, if  he didn't  get  any fatter, and he didn't think he was getting any fatter, what he did; and Piglet was wondering how long it would be before his haycorn came up.
        "Look, Pooh!" said Piglet suddenly. "There's  something in one of the Pine Trees."
        "So  there  is!"  said  Pooh,  looking  up wonderingly. "There's an Animal."
        Piglet took Pooh's arm, in case Pooh was frightened.
        "Is it One of the Fiercer Animals?"  he  said,  looking the other way.
        Pooh nodded.
        "It's a Jagular," he said.
        "What  do  Jagulars do?" asked Piglet, hoping that they wouldn't.
        "They hide in the branches of trees, and drop on you as you go underneath," said Pooh. "Christopher Robin told me."
        "Perhaps we better hadn't go underneath, Pooh. In  case he dropped and hurt himself."
        "They  don't hurt themselves," said Pooh. "They're such very good droppers."
        Piglet still felt that to be  underneath  a  Very  Good Dropper would be a Mistake, and he was just going to hurry back for  something  which  he had forgotten when the Jagular called out to them.
        "Help! Help!" it called.
        "That's what  Jagulars  always  do,"  said  Pooh,  much interested. "They call 'Help! Help!' and then when you look up, they drop on you."
        "I'm  looking  down,"  cried  Piglet  loudly, so as the Jagular shouldn't do the wrong  thing  by  accident.  Something very excited next to the Jagular heard him, and squeaked:
        "Pooh and Piglet! Pooh and Piglet!"
        All  of  a  sudden Piglet felt that it was a much nicer day than he had thought it was. All warm and sunny----
        "Pooh!" he cried. "I believe it's Tigger and Roo!"
        "So it is," said Pooh. "I thought it was a Jagular  and another Jagular."
        "Hallo, Roo!" called Piglet. "What are you doing?"
        "We  can't  get  down,  we  can't get down!" cried Roo. "Isn't it fun? Pooh, isn't it fun, Tigger and I are living in a tree, like Owl, and we're going to stay here for ever and ever. I can see Piglet's house. Piglet, I can  see  your  house  from here. Aren't we high? Is Owl's house as high up as this?"
        "How did you get there, Roo?" asked Piglet.
        "On  Tigger's  back! And Tiggers can't climb downwards, because their tails get in the way, only  upwards,  and  Tigger forgot   about  that  when  we  started,  and  he's  only  just remembered. So we've got to stay here for ever and ever--unless we go higher. What did you say, Tigger? Oh, Tigger says  if  we go  higher  we shan't be able to see Piglet's house so well, so we're going to stop here."
        "Piglet," said Pooh solemnly, when  he  had  heard  all this,  "what  shall  we  do?"  And  he  began  to  eat Tigger's sandwiches.

        "Are they stuck?" asked Piglet anxiously.
        Pooh nodded.
        "Couldn't you climb up to them?"
        "I might, Piglet, and I might  bring  Roo  down  on  my back,  but  I  couldn't  bring Tigger down. So we must think of something else. "And in a thoughtful way he began to eat  Roo's sandwiches, too.

        Whether he would have thought of anything before he hadfinished  the  last sandwich, I don't know, but he had just gotto the last but one when there was a crackling in the  bracken,and Christopher Robin and Eeyore came strolling along together.
        "I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it hailed a good deal to-morrow," Eeyore was saying. "Blizzards and  what-not.  Being fine  to-day  doesn't Mean Anything. It has no sig--what's that word? Well, it has none of that. It's just  a  small  piece  of weather."
        "There's Pooh!" said Christopher Robin, who didn't much mind what  it  did  to-morrow,  as  long  as  he was out in it. "Hallo, Pooh!"
        "It's Christopher Robin!" said Piglet. "He'll know what to do."
        They hurried up to him.
        "Oh, Christopher Robin," began Pooh.
        "And Eeyore," said Eeyore.
        "Tigger and Roo are right up the Six  Pine  Trees,  and they can't get down, and----"
        "And  I  was just saying," put in Piglet, "that if only Christopher Robin----"
        "And Eeyore----"
        "If  only  you  were  here,  then  we  could  think  of something to do."
        Christopher  Robin  looked  up  at  Tigger and Roo, and tried to think of something.
        "I thought," said Piglet  earnestly,  "that  if  Eeyore stood  at the bottom of the tree, and if Pooh stood on Eeyore's back, and if I stood on Pooh's shoulders----"
        "And if Eeyore's back snapped suddenly, then  we  could all  laugh.  Ha  ha! Amusing in a quiet way," said Eeyore, "but not really helpful."
        "Well," said Piglet meekly, "I thought----"
        "Would it break your back, Eeyore?"  asked  Pooh,  very much surprised.
        "That's  what  would be so interesting, Pooh. Not being quite sure till afterwards."
        Pooh said "Oh!" and they all began to think again.
        "I've got an idea!" cried Christopher Robin suddenly.
        "Listen to this, Piglet," said Eeyore, "and then you'll know what we're trying to do."
        "I'll take off my tunic and we'll each hold  a  corner, and  then  Roo  and Tigger can jump into it, and it will be all soft and bouncy for them, and they won't hurt themselves."
        "Getting Tigger down," said Eeyore,  "and  not  hurting anybody.  Keep those two ideas in your head, Piglet, and you'll be all right."
        But Piglet wasn't listening, he  was  so  agog  at  the thought of seeing Christopher Robin's blue braces again. He had only  seen  them  once  before,  when he was much younger, and, being a little over-excited by them, had had to go to bed  half an hour earlier than usual; and he had always wondered since if they were really as blue and as bracing as he had thought them. So when Christopher Robin took his tunic off, and they were, he felt quite friendly to Eeyore again, and held the corner of the tunic  next  to  him  and  smiled  happily  at  him. And Eeyore whispered back: "I'm not saying there won't be an Accident now, mind you. They're funny things, Accidents. You never have  them till you're having them."
        When  Roo  understood  what he had to do, he was wildly excited, and cried out: "Tigger, Tigger, we're going  to  jump! Look  at  me  jumping, Tigger! Like flying, my jumping will be. Can  Tiggers  do  it?"  And  he  squeaked  out:  "I'm   coming, Christopher Robin!" and he jumped-- straight into the middle of the  tunic.  And  he was going so fast that he bounced up again almost as high as where he was before--and went on bouncing and saying, "Oo!" for quite  a  long  time--and  then  at  last  he stopped and said, "Oo, lovely!" And they put him on the ground.

 "Come on, Tigger," he called out. "It's easy."
        But  Tigger  was holding on to the branch and saying to himself: "It's all very well for Jumping Animals  like  Kangas, but  it's  quite  different  for Swimming Animals like Tiggers. "And he thought of himself floating on his back down  a  river, or  striking  out  from one island to another, and he felt that that was really the life for a Tigger.
        "Come along," called Christopher Robin. "You'll be  all right."
        "Just  wait  a  moment,"  said Tigger nervously. "Small piece of bark in my eye." And he moved slowly along his branch.
        "Come on, it's easy!" squeaked Roo. And suddenly Tigger found how easy it was.
        "Ow!" he shouted as the tree flew past him.
        "Look out!" cried Christopher Robin to the others.
        There was a crash, and a tearing noise, and a  confused heap of everybody on the ground.
        Christopher Robin and Pooh and Piglet picked themselves up first,  and  then  they  picked  Tigger  up,  and underneath everybody else was Eeyore.
        "Oh, Eeyore!" cried Christopher Robin. "Are you  hurt?" And he felt him rather anxiously, and dusted him and helped him to stand up again.
        Eeyore  said nothing for a long time. And then he said: "Is Tigger there?"
        Tigger was there, feeling Bouncy again already.
        "Yes," said Christopher Robin. "Tigger's here."
        "Well, just thank him for me," said Eeyore.

    IT was going to be one of Rabbit's busy days. As soon as he woke up he felt important, as if everything depended upon  him. It  was just the day for Organizing Something, or for Writing a Notice Signed Rabbit, or for Seeing What Everybody Else Thought About It. It was a perfect morning for hurrying round to  Pooh, and saying, "Very well, then, I'll tell Piglet," and then going to Piglet, and saying, "Pooh thinks--but perhaps I'd better see Owl  first."  It  was  a Captainish sort of day, when everybody said, "Yes, Rabbit " and "No, Rabbit," and waited until he  had told them.
        He  came  out  of his house and sniffed the warm springmorning as he wondered what he  would  do.  Kanga's  house  was nearest, and at Kanga's house  was  Roo,  who  said "Yes, Rabbit " and "No, Rabbit" almost better than anybody else in the Forest;  but  there  was another  animal  there nowadays, the strange and Bouncy Tigger; and he was the sort of Tigger who was always in front when  you were showing him the way anywhere and was generally out of sight when at last you came to the place and said proudly "Here we are!"
        "No, not Kanga's," said Rabbit thoughtfully to himself, as he curled  his  whiskers  in the sun, and to make quite sure that he wasn't going there, he turned to the left  and  trotted off  in  the  other direction, which was the way to Christopher Robin's house.
        "After all," said Rabbit to himself, "Christopher Robin depends on Me. He's fond of Pooh and Piglet and Eeyore, and  so am  I,  but  they  haven't  any  Brain.  Not  to notice. And he respects Owl, because you can't help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but  spelling isn't  everything.  There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count. And Kanga is too busy looking after Roo, and Roo is too young and Tigger is  too  bouncy  to  be  any  help,  so there's really nobody but Me, when you come to look at it. I'll go and see if there's anything he wants doing, and then I'll do it for him. It's just the day for doing things."
        He  trotted along happily, and by-and-by he crossed the stream and came to the place  where  his  friends-and-relations lived.  There  seemed  to be even more of them about than usual this morning, and having nodded to a hedgehog or two, with whom he was too busy to shake hands, and having said, "Good morning, good morning," importantly to some  of  the  others,  and  "Ah, there  you are," kindly, to the smaller ones, he waved a paw at them over his shoulder, and was gone leaving  such  an  air  of excitement  and  I-don't-know-what  behind  him,  that  several members of the Beetle family, including Henry Rush, made  their way  at once to the Hundred Acre Wood and began climbing trees, in the hope of getting to the top before it happened,  whatever it  was,  so that they might see it properly. Rabbit hurried on by the edge of the Hundred Acre Wood,  feeling  more  important every  minute,  and  soon he came to the tree where Christopher Robin lived. He knocked at the door, and he called out once  or twice,  and then he walked back a little way and put his paw up to keep the sun out, and called to the top  of  the  tree,  and then  he  turned  all  round  and shouted "Hallo!" and "I say!" "It's Rabbit!"--but  nothing  happened.  Then  he  stopped  and listened, and everything stopped and listened with him, and the
Forest  was  very  lone and still and peaceful in the sunshine, until suddenly a hundred miles above him a lark began to sing.

        "Bother!" said Rabbit. "He's gone out." He went back to the green front door, just to make sure,  and  he  was  turning away,  feeling that his morning had got all spoilt, when he saw a piece of paper on the ground. And there was a pin in  it,  as if it had fallen off the door.
        "Ha!"  said Rabbit, feeling quite happy again. "Anothernotice!"
        This is what it said:

                                  GON OUT
                            BACKSON
                            BISY
                            BACKSON
                                      C. R.

        "Ha!" said Rabbit again. "I must tell the others."  And he hurried off importantly.
        The  nearest house was Owl's, and to Owl's House in the Hundred Acre wood he made his way. He came to Owl's  door,  and he knocked and he rang, and he rang and he knocked, and at last Owl's  head  came out and said "Go away, I'm thinking--oh, it's you?" which was how he always began.
        "Owl," said Rabbit shortly, "you and I have brains. The others have fluff. If there is any thinking to be done in  this Forest--and when I say thinking I mean thinking--you and I must do it."
        "Yes," said Owl. "I was."
        "Read that."
        Owl  took  Christopher  Robin's  notice from Rabbit and looked at it nervously. He could spell his own name WOL, and he could spell Tuesday so that you knew it wasn't  Wednesday,  and he  could  read quite comfortably when you weren't looking over his shoulder and saying "Well?" all the time, and he could----
        "Well?" said Rabbit.
        "Yes," said Owl, looking Wise and Thoughtful.
        "I see what you mean. Undoubtedly."
        "Well?"
        "Exactly," said Owl. "Precisely." And he added, after a little thought, "If you had not come to me, I should have  come to you."
        "Why?" asked Rabbit.
        "For that very reason," said Owl, hoping that something helpful would happen soon.
        "Yesterday  morning,"  said Rabbit solemnly, "I went to see Christopher Robin. He was out. Pinned on  his  door  was  a notice!"
        "The same notice?"
        "A  different  one.  But the meaning was the same. It's very odd."
        "Amazing," said Owl, looking at the notice  again,  and getting,  just  for  a  moment,  a curious sort of feeling that something had happened to Christopher Robin's back.  "What  did you do?"
        "Nothing."
        "The best thing," said Owl wisely.
        "Well?" said Rabbit again, as Owl knew he was going to.
        "Exactly," said Owl.
        For  a little while he couldn't think of anything more; and then, all of a sudden, he had an idea.
        "Tell me, Rabbit," he said, "the  exact  words  of  the first  notice.  This  is  very important. Everything depends on this. The exact words of the first notice."
        "It was just the same as that one really."
        Owl looked at him, and wondered whether to push him off the tree; but, feeling that he could always do  it  afterwards, he tried once more to find out what they were talking about.
        "The  exact words, please" he said, as if Rabbit hadn'tspoken.
        "It just said, 'Gone out. Backson.' Same as this,  only this says 'Bisy Backson' too."
        Owl gave a great sigh of relief.

 "Ah!" said Owl. "Now we know where we are."
        "Yes,  but  where's  Christopher  Robin?"  said Rabbit. "That's the point."
        Owl looked at the notice again. To one of his education the reading  of  it  was  easy.  "Gone  out,   Backson.   Bisy, Backson"--  just  the  sort  of  thing you'd expect to see on a notice.
        "It is quite clear what has happened, my dear  Rabbit," he  said.  "Christopher  Robin  has  gone  out  somewhere  with Backson. He and Backson are busy  together.  Have  you  seen  a Backson anywhere about in the Forest lately?"
        "I don't know," said Rabbit. "That's what I came to ask you. What are they like?"
        "Well," said Owl, "the Spotted or Herbaceous Backson is just a--"
        "At least," he said, "it's really more of a----"
        "Of course," he said, "it depends on the----"
        "Well," said Owl, "the fact is," he said, "I don't know what they're like," said Owl frankly.
        "Thank  you,"  said  Rabbit.  And he hurried off to see Pooh.
        Before he had gone very far he heard  a  noise.  So  he stopped and listened. This was the noise.

                      NOISE, BY POOH

                      Oh, the butterflies are flying,
                Now the winter days are dying,
                And the primroses are trying
                    To be seen.
                And the turtle-doves are cooing,
                And the woods arc up and doing,
                For the violets are blue-ing
                    In the green.

                      Oh, the honey-bees are gumming
                On their little wings, and humming
                That the summer, which is coming,
                    Will be fun.
                And the cows are almost cooing,
                And the turtle-doves are mooing,
                Which is why a Pooh is poohing
                    In the sun.

                      For the spring is really springing;
                You can see a skylark singing,
                And the blue-bells, which are ringing,
                    Can be heard.
                And the cuckoo isn't cooing,
                But he's cucking and he's ooing,
                And a Pooh is simply poohing
                    Like a bird.

        "Hallo, Pooh," said Rabbit.
        "Hallo, Rabbit," said Pooh dreamily.
        "Did you make that song up?"
        "Well,  I  sort  of  made  it up," said Pooh. "It isn't Brain," he went on humbly, "because You Know Why,  Rabbit;  but it comes to me sometimes."

        "Ah!"  said  Rabbit,  who never let things come to him, but always went and fetched them. "Well, the point is, have you seen a Spotted or Herbaceous Backson in the Forest, at all?"
        "No," said Pooh. "Not a--no," said Pooh. "I saw  Tigger just now."
        "That's no good."
        "No," said Pooh. I thought it wasn't."
        "Have you seen Piglet?"
        "Yes,"  said  Pooh.  "I  suppose  that  isn't  any good either?" he asked meekly.
        "Well, it depends if he saw anything."
        "He saw me," said Pooh.
        Rabbit sat down on the ground next to Pooh and, feeling much less important like that, stood up again.
        "What it all comes to is this,"  he  said.  "What  does Christopher Robin do in the morning nowadays?"
        "What sort of thing?"
        "Well,  can  you tell me anything you've seen him do in the morning? These last few days."
        "Yes," said Pooh. "We had breakfast together yesterday. By the Pine Trees. I'd made up a little basket, just a  little, fair-sized  basket,  an  ordinary  biggish sort of basket, fullof--"
        "Yes, yes," said Rabbit, "but I mean later  than  that. Have you seen him between eleven and twelve?"
        "Well,"   said  Pooh,  "at  eleven  o'clock--at  eleven o'clock--well, at eleven o'clock, you see, I generally get home about then. Because I have One or Two Things to Do."
        "Quarter past eleven, then?"
        "Well--" said Pooh.
        "Half past?"
        "Yes," said Pooh. "At half  past--or  perhaps  later--I might see him."
        And  now  that he did think of it, he began to remember that he hadn't seen Christopher Robin about so much lately. Not in  the  mornings.  Afternoons,  yes;  evenings,  yes;   before breakfast,  yes;  just after breakfast, yes. And then, perhaps, "See you again, Pooh," and off he'd go.
        "That's just it," said Rabbit. "Where?"
        "Perhaps he's looking for something."
        "What?" asked Rabbit.
        "That's just what I was going to say," said  Pooh.  And then he added, "Perhaps he's looking for a-- for a--"
        "A Spotted or Herbaceous Backson?"
        "Yes," said Pooh. "One of those. In case it isn't."
        Rabbit looked at him severely.
        "I don't think you're helping," he said.
        "No," said Pooh. "I do try," he added humbly.
        Rabbit  thanked  him for trying, and said that he would now go and see Eeyore, and Pooh  could  walk  with  him  if  he liked.  But  Pooh, who felt another verse of his song coming on him, said he would wait for Piglet, good-bye, Rabbit; so Rabbit went off.
        But, as it happened,  it  was  Rabbit  who  saw  Piglet first.  Piglet  had got up early that morning to pick himself a bunch of violets; and when he had picked them and put them in a pot in the middle of his house, it suddenly came over him  that nobody  had ever picked Eeyore a bunch of violets, and the more he thought of this, the more he thought how sad it was to be an Animal who had never had a bunch of violets picked for him.  So he  hurried out again, saying to himself, "Eeyore, Violets" and then "Violets, Eeyore," in case he forgot, because it was  that sort  of  day,  and  he picked a large bunch and trotted along, smelling them, and feeling very happy, until  he  came  to  the place where Eeyore was.
        "Oh,  Eeyore," began Piglet a little nervously, because Eeyore was busy.

 Eeyore put out a paw and waved him away.
        "To-morrow," said Eeyore. "Or  the  next  day."  Piglet came  a  little  closer  to  see  what it was. Eeyore had three sticks on the ground, and was  looking  at  them.  Two  of  the sticks  were touching at one end, but not at the other, and the third stick was laid across them. Piglet thought  that  perhaps it was a Trap of some kind.
        "Oh, Eeyore," he began again, "I just--"
        "Is  that  little  Piglet?"  said Eeyore, still looking hard at his sticks.
        "Yes, Eeyore, and I--"
        "Do you know what this is?"
        "No," said Piglet.
        "It's an A."
        "Oh," said Piglet.
        "Not O--A," said Eeyore severely. "Can't you  hear,  or do you think you have more education than Christopher Robin?"
        "Yes," said Piglet. "No," said Piglet very quickly. And he came closer still.
        "Christopher  Robin  said  it  was  an  A,  and an A it is--until somebody treads on it," Eeyore added sternly.
        Piglet jumped backwards hurriedly,  and  smelt  at  his violets.
        "Do you know what A means, little Piglet?"
        "No, Eeyore, I don't."
        "It  means  Learning,  it means Education, it means all the things that you and Pooh haven't got. That's what A means."
        "Oh,"  said  Piglet  again.  "I  mean,  does  it?"   he explained quickly.
        "I'm  telling  you.  People come and go in this Forest, and they say, 'It's only Eeyore, so  it  doesn't  count.'  They walk to and fro saying 'Ha ha!' But do they know anything about A?  They  don't.  It's  just  three  sticks to them. But to the Educated--mark  this,  little  Piglet--to  the  Educated,   not meaning  Poohs  and Piglets, it's a great and glorious A. Not," he added, "just something that anybody  can  come  and  breathe on."
        Piglet  stepped  back  nervously,  and looked round for help.
        "Here's Rabbit," he said gladly. "Hallo, Rabbit."
        Rabbit came up importantly, nodded to Piglet, and said,"Ah, Eeyore," in the voice of one who would be saying "Good-bye" in about two more minutes.
        "There's just one thing I wanted to  ask  you,  Eeyore. What happens to Christopher Robin in the mornings nowadays?"
        "What's  this  that I'm looking at?" said Eeyore, stilllooking at it.
        "Three sticks," said Rabbit promptly.
        "You see?" said Eeyore to Piglet. He turned to  Rabbit. "I will now answer your question," he said solemnly.
        "Thank you," said Rabbit.
        "What  does  Christopher  Robin  do in the mornings? He learns. He becomes Educated. He instigorates--I think  that  is the  word  he  mentioned,  but  I may be referring to something else--he instigorates Knowledge. In my small way I also,  if  I have  the  word  right,  am--am  doing  what he does. That, for instance, is?"
        "An A," said Rabbit, "but not a very good one. Well,  I must get back and tell the others."
        Eeyore  looked  at  his  sticks  and  then he looked at Piglet.
        "What did Rabbit say it was?" he asked.
        "An A," said Piglet.
        "Did you tell him?"
        "No, Eeyore, I didn't. I expect he just knew."
        "He knew? You mean this  A  thing  is  a  thing  Rabbit knew?"
        "Yes, Eeyore. He's clever, Rabbit is."
        "Clever!"   said  Eeyore  scornfully,  putting  a  foot heavily on his three sticks. "Education!" said Eeyore bitterly, jumping on his six sticks. "What is Learning?" asked Eeyore  as he  kicked  his  twelve  sticks  into  the air. "A thing Rabbit knows! Ha!"
        "I think--" began Piglet nervously.
        "Don't," said Eeyore.
        "I think Violets are rather nice," said Piglet. And  he laid his bunch in front of Eeyore and scampered off.
Next  morning  the  notice  on  Christopher Robins door said:

                              GONE OUT
                        BACK SOON
                                        C. R.

        Which is why all the animals in the Forest-- except, ofcourse, the  Spotted  and  Herbaceous  Backson--now  know  what Christopher Robin does in the mornings.

    BY the time it came to the edge of the  Forest  the  streamhad  grown  up,  so  that  it  was  almost  a river, and, beinggrown-up, it did not run and jump and sparkle along as it  usedto  do  when it was younger, but moved more slowly. For it knewnow where it was going, and it said to  itself,  "There  is  no hurry. We shall get there some day." But all the little streams higher  up  in  the  Forest  went  this  way and that, quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it was too late.
        There was a broad track, almost as  broad  as  a  road, leading  from  the  Outland  to the Forest, but before it could come to the Forest, it had to cross this river.  So,  where  it crossed,  there was a wooden bridge, almost as broad as a road, with wooden rails on each side of it. Christopher  Robin  could just  get  his chin on to the top rail, if he wanted to, but it was more fun to stand on the bottom rail, so that he could lean right over, and watch the river slipping  slowly  away  beneath him. Pooh could get his chin on to the bottom rail he if wanted to,  but it was more fun to lie down and get his head under it, and watch the river slipping slowly away beneath him. And  this was  the only way in which Piglet and Roo could watch the river at all, because they were too small to reach the  bottom  rail. So  they  would lie down and watch it .. . and it slipped away very slowly, being in no hurry to get there.
        One day, when Pooh was walking towards this bridge,  he was  trying  to  make  up  a  piece  of poetry about fir-cones, because there they were, lying about on each side of  him,  and he  felt  singy.  So he picked a fir-cone up, and looked at it, and said to  himself,  "This  is  a  very  good  fir-cone,  and something  ought  to  rhyme  to  it."  But he couldn't think of anything. And then this came into his head suddenly:

                          Here is a myst'ry
                    About a little fir-tree.
                    Owl says it's his tree,
                    And Kanga says it's her tree.

        "Which doesn't make sense," said Pooh,  "because  Kanga doesn't live in a tree."
        He  had  just come to the bridge; and not looking where he was going, he  tripped  over  something,  and  the  fir-conejerked out of his paw into the river.
        "Bother,"  said  Pooh,  as  it floated slowly under the bridge, and he went back to get another fir-cone  which  had  a rhyme to it. But then he thought that he would just look at the river instead, because it was a peaceful sort of day, so he lay down and looked at it, and it slipped slowly away beneath him .. . and suddenly, there was his fir-cone slipping away too.
        "That's  funny,"  said Pooh. "I dropped it on the other side," said Pooh, "and it came out on this side! I wonder if it would do it again?" And he went back for some more fir-cones.
        It did. It kept on doing it. Then he dropped two in  at once, and leant over the bridge to see which of them would come out  first; and one of them did; but as they were both the same size, he didn't know if it was the one which he wanted to  win, or  the  other one. So the next time he dropped one big one and one little one, and the big one came out first, which was  what he  had  said  it  would  do, and the little one came out last, which was what he had said it would do, so he had won twice . . . and when he went home for tea, he had won thirty-six and lost twenty-eight, which meant that he was-- that he had--well,  you take  twenty-eight  from  thirty-six,  and  that's what he was. Instead of the other way round.
        And  that  was  the  beginning  of  the   game   called Poohsticks,  which  Pooh invented, and which he and his friends used to play on the edge of the Forest. But  they  played  with sticks instead of fir-cones, because they were easier to mark.
        Now one day Pooh and Piglet and Rabbit and Roo were all playing Poohsticks  together.  They had dropped their sticks in when Rabbit said "Go!" and then they had hurried across to  the other  side  of  the bridge, and now they were all leaning over the edge, waiting to see whose stick would come out first.  But it was a long time coming, because the river was very lazy that day,  and  hardly seemed to mind if it didn't ever get there at all.