The House at Pooh Corner - A. A. Milne [31]
Eeyore was silent for a little while, thinking.
“There may be something in what you say, Rabbit,” he said at last. “I must move about more. I must come and go.”
“That’s right, Eeyore. Drop in on any of us at any time, when you feel like it.”
“Thank-you, Rabbit. And if anybody says in a Loud Voice ‘Bother, it’s Eeyore,’ I can drop out again.”
Rabbit stood on one leg for a moment.
“Well,” he said, “I must be going.”
“Good-bye,” said Eeyore.
“What? Oh, good-bye. And if you do come across a house for Owl, you must let us know.”
“I will give my mind to it,” said Eeyore.
Rabbit went.
Pooh had found Piglet, and they were walking back to the Hundred Acre Wood together.
“Piglet,” said Pooh a little shyly, after they had walked for some time without saying anything.
“Yes, Pooh?”
“Do you remember when I said that a Respectful Pooh Song might be written about You Know What?”
“Did you, Pooh?” said Piglet, getting a little pink round the nose. “Oh, yes, I believe you did.”
“It’s been written, Piglet.”
The pink went slowly up Piglet’s nose to his ears, and settled there.
“Has it, Pooh?” he asked huskily. “About—about —That Time When?—Do you mean really written?”
“Yes, Piglet.”
The tips of Piglet’s ears glowed suddenly, and he tried to say something; but even after he had husked once or twice, nothing came out. So Pooh went on.
“There are seven verses in it.”
“Seven?” said Piglet as carelessly as he could. “You don’t often get seven verses in a Hum, do you, Pooh?”
“Never,” said Pooh. “I don’t suppose it’s ever been heard of before.”
“Do the Others know yet?” asked Piglet, stopping for a moment to pick up a stick and throw it away.
“No,” said Pooh. “And I wondered which you would like best. For me to hum it now, or to wait till we find the others, and then hum it to all of you.”
Piglet thought for a little.
“I think what I’d like best, Pooh, is I’d like you to hum it to me now—and—and then to hum it to all of us. Because then Everybody would hear it, but I could say ‘Oh, yes, Pooh’s told me,’ and pretend not to be listening.”
So Pooh hummed it to him, all the seven verses and Piglet said nothing, but just stood and glowed.
Never before had anyone sung ho for Piglet (PIGLET) ho all by himself. When it was over, he wanted to ask for one of the verses over again, but didn’t quite like to. It was the verse beginning “O gallant Piglet,” and it seemed to him a very thoughtful way of beginning a piece of poetry.
“Did I really do all that?” he said at last.
“Well,” said Pooh, “in poetry—in a piece of poetry—well, you did it, Piglet, because the poetry says you did. And that’s how people know.”
“Oh!” said Piglet. “Because I—I thought I did blinch a little. Just at first. And it says, ‘Did he blinch no no.’ That’s why.”
“You only blinched inside,” said Pooh, “and that’s the bravest way for a Very Small Animal not to blinch that there is.”
Piglet sighed with happiness, and began to think about himself. He was BRAVE….
When they got to Owl’s old house, they found everybody else there except Eeyore. Christopher Robin was telling them what to do, and Rabbit was telling them again directly afterwards, in case they hadn’t heard, and then they were all doing it. They had got a rope and were pulling Owl’s chairs and pictures and things out of his old house so as to be ready to put them into his new one. Kanga was down below tying the things on, and calling out to Owl, “You won’t want this dirty old dish-cloth any more, will you, and what about this carpet, it’s all in holes,” and Owl was calling back indignantly, “Of course I do! It’s just a question of arranging the furniture properly, and it isn’t a dish-cloth, it’s my shawl.” Every now and then Roo fell in and came back on the rope with the next article, which flustered Kanga a little because she never knew where to look for him. So she got cross with Owl and said that his house was a Disgrace, all damp and dirty, and it was quite