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Now We Are Six - A. A. Milne [9]

By Root 77 0
Times One—

But Bad Bear left all his buttons undone.

They lived in a Tree when the weather was hot,

And one of them was Good, and the other was Not.

Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Two—

But Bad Bear’s thingummies were worn right through.

They lived in a Cave when the weather was cold,

And they Did, and they Didn’t Do, what they were told.

Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Three—

But Bad Bear never had his hand-ker-chee.

They lived in the Wood with a Kind Old Aunt,

And one said “Yes’m,” and the other said

“Shan’t!”

Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Four—

But Bad Bear’s knicketies were terrible tore.

And then quite suddenly (just like Us)

One got Better and the other got Wuss.

Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Three—

But Bad Bear coughed in his hand-ker-chee!

Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Two—

But Bad Bear’s thingummies looked like new.

Good Bear muddled his Twice Times One—

But Bad Bear never left his buttons undone.

There may be a Moral, though some say not;

I think there’s a moral, though I don’t know what.

But if one gets better, as the other gets wuss,

These Two Little Bears are just like Us.

For Christopher remembers up to Twice Times Ten…

But I keep forgetting where I’ve put my pen.*

The Morning Walk


When Anne and I go out a walk,

We hold each other’s hand and talk

Of all the things we mean to do

When Anne and I are forty-two.

And when we’ve thought about a thing,

Like bowling hoops or bicycling,

Or falling down on Anne’s balloon,

We do it in the afternoon.

Cradle Song


O Timothy Tim

Has ten pink toes,

And ten pink toes

Has Timothy Tim.

They go with him

Wherever he goes,

And wherever he goes

They go with him.

O Timothy Tim

Has two blue eyes,

And two blue eyes

Has Timothy Tim.

They cry with him

Whenever he cries,

And whenever he cries,

They cry with him.

O Timothy Tim

Has one red head,

And one red head

Has Timothy Tim.

It sleeps with him

In Timothy’s bed.

Sleep well, red head

Of Timothy Tim.

Waiting at the Window


These are my two drops of rain

Waiting on the window-pane.

I am waiting here to see

Which the winning one will be.

Both of them have different names.

One is John and one is James.

All the best and all the worst

Comes from which of them is first.

James has just begun to ooze.

He’s the one I want to lose.

John is waiting to begin.

He’s the one I want to win.

James is going slowly on.

Something sort of sticks to John.

John is moving off at last.

James is going pretty fast.

John is rushing down the pane.

James is going slow again.

James has met a sort of smear.

John is getting very near.

Is he going fast enough?

(James has found a piece of fluff.)

John has hurried quickly by.

(James was talking to a fly.)

John is there, and John has won!

Look! I told you! Here’s the sun!

Pinkle Purr


Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,

A little black nothing of feet and fur;

And by-and-by, when his eyes came through,

He saw his mother, the big Tattoo.

And all that he learned he learned from her.

“I’ll ask my mother,” says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,

A ridiculous kitten with silky fur.

And little black Pinkle grew and grew

Till he got as big as the big Tattoo.

And all that he did he did with her.

“Two friends together,” says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,

An adventurous cat in a coat of fur.

And whenever he thought of a thing to do,

He didn’t much bother about Tattoo,

For he knows it’s nothing to do with her,

So “See you later,” says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo is the mother of Pinkle Purr,

An enormous leopard with coal-black fur.

A little brown kitten that’s nearly new

Is now playing games with its big Tattoo…

And Pink looks lazily down at her:

“Dear little Tat,” says Pinkle Purr.

Wind on the Hill


No one can tell me,

Nobody knows,

Where the wind comes from,

Where the wind goes.

It’s flying from somewhere

As fast as it can,

I couldn’t keep up with it,

Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding

The string

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