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Of course as soon as Kanga unbuttoned her pocket, she saw what had happened. Rabbit was playing with Baby Roo in his own house, and feeling more fond of him every minute, and Pooh, who had decided to be a Kanga, was still at the sandy place on the top of the Forest, practising jumps. Would you like that, Roo, dear? Look at me! What did I tell you? Well, then! Fancy my making a mistake like that.

To his great joy Christopher Robin had left the door open. But when he was a hundred yards away he stopped running, and rolled the rest of the way home, so as to get his own nice comfortable colour again…. So Kanga and Roo stayed in the Forest. And every Tuesday Roo spent the day with his great friend Rabbit, and every Tuesday Kanga spent the day with her great friend Pooh, teaching him to jump, and every Tuesday Piglet spent the day with his great friend Christopher Robin.

So they were all happy again. At breakfast that morning a simple meal of marmalade spread lightly over a honey-comb or two he had suddenly thought of a new song. Sing Ho! Christopher Robin was sitting outside his door, putting on his Big Boots. As soon as he saw the Big Boots, Pooh knew that an Adventure was going to happen, and he brushed the honey off his nose with the back of his paw, and spruced himself up as well as he could, so as to look Ready for Anything.

Where are we going to on this Expotition? And Rabbit and Kanga and all of you. A long line of everybody. And we must all bring Provisions. The first person he met was Rabbit. Or was it a Mole? In case we want to eat them. Tell Kanga, will you? The Piglet was sitting on the ground at the door of his house blowing happily at a dandelion, and wondering whether it would be this year, next year, sometime or never.

To discover something. They always do. I only came to oblige. And as they walked, they chattered to each other of this and that, all except Pooh, who was making up a song.

Sing Hey! His name was Alexander Beetle. They had come to a stream which twisted and tumbled between high rocky banks, and Christopher Robin saw at once how dangerous it was. Pooh, who now knew what an Ambush was, said that a gorse-bush had sprung at him suddenly one day when he fell off a tree, and he had taken six days to get all the prickles out of himself. They were climbing very cautiously up the stream now, going from rock to rock, and after they had gone a little way they came to a place where the banks widened out at each side, so that on each side of the water there was a level strip of grass on which they could sit down and rest.

I thought so. Remember that another time, all of you. A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference. They went back to the others. Piglet was lying on his back, sleeping peacefully. What do you think, Pooh? Everybody was doing something to help. But Pooh was getting something. Rabbit, did you see what I was doing?

Hallo, Piglet! I say, Piglet! What do you think I was doing! He was looking at Pooh. I just picked it up. You have found the North Pole! Eeyore was sitting with his tail in the water when they all got back to him. Numbed it. It Belongs again, if you know what I mean. Thank you for asking, but I shall be able to use it again in a day or two. I thought you were saying how sorry you were about my tail, being all numb, and could you do anything to help?

They stuck the pole in the ground, and Christopher Robin tied a message on to it. Then they all went home again. And I think, but I am not quite sure, that Roo had a hot bath and went straight to bed. But Pooh went back to his own house, and feeling very proud of what he had done, had a little something to revive himself. Piglet told himself that never in all his life, and he was goodness knows how old—three, was it, or four?

Days and days and days. For it was rather exciting. The little dry ditches in which Piglet had nosed about so often had become streams, the little streams across which he had splashed were rivers, and the river, between whose steep banks they had played so happily, had sprawled out of its own bed and was taking up so much room everywhere, that Piglet was beginning to wonder whether it would be coming into his bed soon.

He does silly things and they turn out right. But I wonder what Christopher Robin would do? And he wrote on one side of the paper: HELP! Then he put the paper in the bottle, and he corked the bottle up as tightly as he could, and he leant out of his window as far as he could lean without falling in, and he threw the bottle as far as he could throw—splash!

It rained, and it rained, and it rained, and he slept and he slept and he slept. He had had a tiring day. You remember how he discovered the North Pole; well, he was so proud of this that he asked Christopher Robin if there were any other Poles such as a Bear of Little Brain might discover. Whether he discovered it or not, I forget; but he was so tired when he got home that, in the very middle of his supper, after he had been eating for little more than half-an-hour, he fell fast asleep in his chair, and slept and slept and slept.

Then suddenly he was dreaming. He was at the East Pole, and it was a very cold pole with the coldest sort of snow and ice all over it. And Wild Woozles, such as inhabit the East Pole, came and nibbled all the fur off his legs to make nests for their Young.

And the more they nibbled, the colder his legs got, until suddenly he woke up with an Ow! He splashed to his door and looked out…. Two days later, there was Pooh, sitting on his branch, dangling his legs, and there, beside him, were four pots of honey…. Three days later, there was Pooh, sitting on his branch, dangling his legs, and there, beside him, was one pot of honey.

I must find Christopher Robin or Owl or Piglet, one of those Clever Readers who can read things, and they will tell me what this missage means. For a little while Pooh and The Floating Bear were uncertain as to which of them was meant to be on the top, but after trying one or two different positions, they settled down with The Floating Bear underneath and Pooh triumphantly astride it, paddling vigorously with his feet.

Christopher Robin lived at the very top of the Forest. It was rather jolly to look down into the valleys and see the water all round him, but it rained so hard that he stayed indoors most of the time, and thought about things. On the morning of the fifth day he saw the water all round him, and knew that for the first time in his life he was on a real island. Which was very exciting. Do you see, Owl? Back directly. In a little while he was back again.

On my boat. Christopher Robin read the message aloud. I thought they were Poohs. I thought he was with you, Pooh. Owl, could you rescue him on your back? And Pooh and I will think of a Rescue and come as quick as ever we can. It all depends. Well, where is it? Oh, Pooh Bear, what shall we do? Pole Discoverer , E. He opened his umbrella and put it point downwards in the water. It floated but wobbled. Pooh got in. Then they both got in together, and it wobbled no longer.

Robin; 1st Mate, P. Bear coming over the sea to rescue him. And that is really the end of the story, and as I am very tired after that last sentence, I think I shall stop there.

And the first person he told was Pooh. And the dream began to sing itself over in his head until it became a sort of song. For Who? For Pooh Why what did he do? I thought you knew; He saved his friend from a wetting! For where? He rescued who? Oh, listen, do! I am talking of Pooh— Of who?

Of Pooh! Of enormous brain— Of enormous what? For who? For Pooh— 3 Cheers for Bear! For Bear— 3 Cheers for the wonderful Winnie-the-Pooh! While this was going on inside him, Owl was talking to Eeyore.

Kind and Thoughtful. Who dropped it? The little fellow with the excited ears. Tell all of them. Christopher Robin had made a long table out of some long pieces of wood, and they all sat around it.

Christopher Robin sat at one end, and Pooh sat at the other, and between them on one side were Owl and Eeyore and Piglet, and between them on the other side were Rabbit, and Roo and Kanga. It was the first party to which Roo had ever been, and he was very excited. As soon as ever they had sat down he began to talk. Roo jumped up and down in his seat for a little while and then began again. Piglet waved a paw at him, being too busy to say anything.

Eeyore nodded gloomily at him. What I did was nothing. Any of you—except Rabbit and Owl and Kanga—would have done the same. Oh, and Pooh. My remarks do not, of course, apply to Piglet and Roo, because they are too small. Any of you would have done the same. But it just happened to be Me. The best bear in all the world.

I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. Always something going on. The title was an implicit admission that such chapters as The Piper at the Gates of Dawn could not survive translation to the theater. A special introduction written by Milne is included in some editions of Grahame's novel.

After Milne's death, the rights to the Pooh characters were sold by his widow, Daphne, to the Walt Disney Company, which has made a number of Pooh cartoon movies, as well as a large amount of Pooh-related merchandise.

She also destroyed his papers. Milne's friend Frank Swinnerton's book The Georgian Literary Scene contains a substantial section about him; his son has written several books of autobiography: The Enchanted Places , in particular, is an account of his attempt to escape from the shadow of a famous father and a burdensome name; The Path Through the Trees continues the story into adult life.

Ann Thwaite's AA Milne: His Life is an excellent and detailed biography, although it gives little space to the plays; a spin-off book tells the story for a younger readership, concentrating on Pooh. Milne books and biography. Biography Click to expand. Collection of work Click to close. Sponsored Links. Helen Of Troy. Not That It Matters. The Holiday Round. The Sunny Side. Link title: Link URL:.

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