Winnie the Pooh (11 page)

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 to 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 I 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.

Chapter Seven

IN WHICH

Kanga and Baby Roo Come to the Forest, and Piglet Has a Bath

N
OBODY
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—of—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 have 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?”