Winnie-the-Pooh
and took down a very large jar of honey from the top shelf. It had HUNNY
written on it, but, just to make sure, he took off the paper cover and
looked at it, and it _looked_ just like honey. "But you never can tell,"
said Pooh. "I remember my uncle saying once that he had seen cheese just
this colour." So he put his tongue in, and took a large lick. "Yes," he
said, "it is. No doubt about that. And honey, I should say, right down
to the bottom of the jar. Unless, of course," he said, "somebody put
cheese in at the bottom just for a joke. Perhaps I had better go a
_little_ further ... just in case ... in case Heffalumps _don't_
like cheese ... same as me.... Ah!" And he gave a deep sigh. "I
_was_ right. It _is_ honey, right the way down."
Having made certain of this, he took the jar back to Piglet, and Piglet
looked up from the bottom of his Very Deep Pit, and said, "Got it?" and
Pooh said, "Yes, but it isn't quite a full jar," and he threw it down to
Piglet, and Piglet said, "No, it isn't! Is that all you've got left?"
and Pooh said "Yes." Because it was. So Piglet put the jar at the bottom
of the Pit, and climbed out, and they went off home together.
"Well, good night, Pooh," said Piglet, when they had got to Pooh's
house. "And we meet at six o'clock to-morrow morning by the Pine Trees,
and see how many Heffalumps we've got in our Trap."
"Six o'clock, Piglet. And have you got any string?"
"No. Why do you want string?"
"To lead them home with."
"Oh! ... I _think_ Heffalumps come if you whistle."
"Some do and some don't. You never can tell with Heffalumps. Well, good
night!"
"Good night!"
And off Piglet trotted to his house TRESPASSERS W, while Pooh made his
preparations for bed.
Some hours later, just as the night was beginning to steal away, Pooh
woke up suddenly with a sinking feeling. He had had that sinking feeling
before, and he knew what it meant. _He was hungry._ So he went to the
larder, and he stood on a chair and reached up to the top shelf, and
found--nothing.
"That's funny," he thought. "I know I had a jar of honey there. A full
jar, full of honey right up to the top, and it had HUNNY written on it,
so that I should know it was honey. That's very funny." And then he
began to wander up and down, wondering where it was and murmuring a
murmur to himself. Like this:
It's very, very funny,
'Cos I _know_ I had some honey;
'Cos it had a label on,
Saying HUNNY.
A goloptious full-up pot too,
And I don't know where it's got to,
No, I don't know where it's gone--
Well, it's funny.
He had murmured this to himself three times in a singing sort of way,
when suddenly he remembered. He had put it into the Cunning Trap to
catch the Heffalump.
"Bother!" said Pooh. "It all comes of trying to be kind to Heffalumps."
And he got back into bed.
But he couldn't sleep. The more he tried to sleep, the more he couldn't.
He tried Counting Sheep, which is sometimes a good way of getting to
sleep, and, as that was no good, he tried counting Heffalumps. And that
was worse. Because every Heffalump that he counted was making straight
for a pot of Pooh's honey, _and eating it all_. For some minutes he lay
there miserably, but when the five hundred and eighty-seventh Heffalump
was licking its jaws, and saying to itself, "Very good honey this, I
don't know when I've tasted better," Pooh could bear it no longer. He
jumped out of bed, he ran out of the house, and he ran straight to the
Six Pine Trees.
The Sun was still in bed, but there was a lightness in the sky over the
Hundred Acre Wood which seemed to show that it was waking up and would
soon be kicking off the clothes. In the half-light the Pine Trees looked
cold and lonely, and the Very Deep Pit seemed deeper than it was, and
Pooh's jar of honey at the bottom was something mysterious, a shape and
no more. But as he got nearer to it his nose told him that it was indeed
honey, and his tongue came out and began to polish up his mouth, ready
for it.
"Bother!" said Pooh, as he got his nose inside the jar. "A Heffalump has
been eating it!" And then he thought a little and said, "Oh, no, _I_
did. I forgot."
Indeed, he had eaten most of it. But there was a little left at the very
bottom of the jar, and he pushed his head right in, and began to
lick....
By and by Piglet woke up. As soon as he woke he said to himself, "Oh!"
Then he said bravely, "Yes," and then, still more bravely, "Quite so."
But he didn't feel very brave, for the word which was really jiggeting
about in his brain was "Heffalumps."
What was a Heffalump like?
Was it Fierce?
_Did_ it come when you whistled? And _how_ did it come?
Was it Fond of Pigs at all?
If it was Fond of Pigs, did it make any difference _what sort of Pig_?
Supposing it was Fierce with Pigs, would it make any difference _if the
Pig had a grandfather called TRESPASSERS WILLIAM_?
He didn't know the answer to any of these questions ... and he was
going to see his first Heffalump in about an hour from now!
Of course Pooh would be with him, and it was much more Friendly with
two. But suppose Heffalumps were Very Fierce with Pigs _and_ Bears?
Wouldn't it be better to pretend that he had a headache, and couldn't go
up to the Six Pine Trees this morning? But then suppose that it was a
very fine day, and there was no Heffalump in the trap, here he would be,
in bed all the morning, simply wasting his time for nothing. What should
he do?
And then he had a Clever Idea. He would go up very quietly to the Six
Pine Trees now, peep very cautiously into the Trap, and see if there
_was_ a Heffalump there. And if there was, he would go back to bed, and
if there wasn't, he wouldn't.
So off he went. At first he thought that there wouldn't be a Heffalump
in the Trap, and then he thought that there would, and as he got nearer
he was _sure_ that there would, because he could hear it heffalumping
about it like anything.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear!" said Piglet to himself. And he wanted to
run away. But somehow, having got so near, he felt that he must just see
what a Heffalump was like. So he crept to the side of the Trap and
looked in....
And all the time Winnie-the-Pooh had been trying to get the honey-jar
off his head. The more he shook it, the more tightly it stuck.
"_Bother!_" he said, inside the jar, and "_Oh, help!_" and, mostly,
"_Ow!_" And he tried bumping it against things, but as he couldn't see
what he was bumping it against, it didn't help him; and he tried to
climb out of the Trap, but as he could see nothing but jar, and not much
of that, he couldn't find his way. So at last he lifted up his head, jar
and all, and made a loud, roaring noise of Sadness and Despair ... and
it was at that moment that Piglet looked down.
"Help, help!" cried Piglet, "a Heffalump, a Horrible Heffalump!" and he
scampered off as hard as he could, still crying out, "Help, help, a
Herrible Hoffalump! Hoff, Hoff, a Hellible Horralump! Holl, Holl, a
Hoffable Hellerump!" And he didn't stop crying and scampering until he
got to Christopher Robin's house.
"Whatever's the matter, Piglet?" said Christopher Robin, who was just
getting up.
"Heff," said Piglet, breathing so hard that he could hardly speak, "a
Heff--a Heff--a Heffalump."
"Where?"
"Up there," said Piglet, waving his paw.
"What did it look like?"
"Like--like----It had the biggest head you ever saw, Christopher Robin.
A great enormous thing, like--like nothing. A huge big--well, like a--I
don't know--like an enormous big nothing. Like a jar."
"Well," said Christopher Robin, putting on his shoes, "I shall go and
look at it. Come on."
Piglet wasn't afraid if he had Christopher Robin with him, so off they
went....
"I can hear it, can't you?" said Piglet anxiously, as they got near.
"I can hear _something_," said Christopher Robin.
It was Pooh bumping his head against a tree-root he had found.
"There!" said Piglet. "Isn't it _awful_?" And he held on tight to
Christopher Robin's hand.
Suddenly Christopher Robin began to laugh ... and he laughed ... and he
laughed ... and he laughed. And while he was still laughing--_Crash_
went the Heffalump's head against the tree-root, Smash went the jar,
and out came Pooh's head again....
Then Piglet saw what a Foolish Piglet he had been, and he was so ashamed
of himself that he ran straight off home and went to bed with a
headache. But Christopher Robin and Pooh went home to breakfast
together.
"Oh, Bear!" said Christopher Robin. "How I do love you!"
"So do I," said Pooh.
CHAPTER VI
IN WHICH EEYORE HAS A BIRTHDAY
AND GETS TWO PRESENTS
Eeyore, the old grey Donkey, stood by the side of the stream, and
looked at himself in the water.
"Pathetic," he said. "That's what it is. Pathetic."
He turned and walked slowly down the stream for twenty yards, splashed
across it, and walked slowly back on the other side. Then he looked at
himself in the water again.
"As I thought," he said. "No better from _this_ side. But nobody minds.
Nobody cares. Pathetic, that's what it is."
There was a crackling noise in the bracken behind him, and out came
Pooh.
"Good morning, Eeyore," said Pooh.
"Good morning, Pooh Bear," said Eeyore gloomily. "If it _is_ a good
morning," he said. "Which I doubt," said he.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can't all, and some of us don't. That's
all there is to it."
"Can't all _what_?" said Pooh, rubbing his nose.
"Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush."
"Oh!" said Pooh. He thought for a long time, and then asked, "What
mulberry bush is that?"
"Bon-hommy," went on Eeyore gloomily. "French word meaning bonhommy," he
explained. "I'm not complaining, but There It Is."
Pooh sat down on a large stone, and tried to think this out. It sounded
to him like a riddle, and he was never much good at riddles, being a
Bear of Very Little Brain. So he sang _Cottleston Pie_ instead:
Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,
A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly.
Ask me a riddle and I reply:
"_Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie._"
That was the first verse. When he had finished it, Eeyore didn't
actually say that he didn't like it, so Pooh very kindly sang the second
verse to him:
Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,
A fish can't whistle and neither can I.
Ask me a riddle and I reply:
"_Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie_."
Eeyore still said nothing at all, so Pooh hummed the third verse quietly
to himself:
Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie,
Why does a chicken, I don't know why.
Ask me a riddle and I reply:
"_Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie_."
"That's right," said Eeyore. "Sing. Umty-tiddly, umty-too. Here we go
gathering Nuts and May. Enjoy yourself."
"I am," said Pooh.
"Some can," said Eeyore.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"_Is_ anything the matter?"
"You seem so sad, Eeyore."
"Sad? Why should I be sad? It's my birthday. The happiest day of the
year."
"Your birthday?" said Pooh in great surprise.
"Of course it is. Can't you see? Look at all the presents I have had."
He waved a foot from side to side. "Look at the birthday cake. Candles
and pink sugar."
Pooh looked--first to the right and then to the left.
"Presents?" said Pooh. "Birthday cake?" said Pooh. "_Where?_"
"Can't you see them?"
"No," said Pooh.
"Neither can I," said Eeyore. "Joke," he explained. "Ha ha!"
Pooh scratched his head, being a little puzzled by all this.
"But is it really your birthday?" he asked.
"It is."
"Oh! Well, Many happy returns of the day, Eeyore."