“Well . . .” said Owl.
“The thing is . . .” said Owl.
“What it says . . .” said Owl, “is most interesting and, of course, explains everything!”
“It does?” asked Pooh.
“Oh, yes! What it says is—”
“What it says,” said Rabbit crossly, taking back the piece of paper and turning it the right way up, “is ‘GON TO BOGANIN. C. R.’”
“Gone where?” asked Piglet, who didn’t like to think of Christopher Robin being anywhere else.
“GON TO BOGANIN,” repeated Rabbit.
“No such place!” snorted Owl.
“Well,” said Rabbit, “that’s what it says.”
“Nonsense!” Owl went on. “I know every inch of the Hundred Acre Wood and I’ve never heard of it.”
“In that case,” said Pooh, “we must find out where this whatever-it’s-called place is and look for Christopher Robin.”
“Exactly!” said Rabbit, taking charge. “We will organise a search, immediately. And we must question everyone. It is essential that we establish who was the last person to see Christopher Robin.”
“Excuse me,” said a soft voice behind them, “but I was.”
It was Penguin. Everyone had quite forgotten about him, but now they all turned and stared at him openmouthed.
“You?” asked Owl at last, sounding a little annoyed.
“Yes,” said Penguin, feeling rather awkward at being looked at by everyone. “I was with him just a little while ago.” Then, after a pause, he added, “I can take you to him, if you like.”
“In that case,” said Owl, fluffing up his feathers in a huffy sort of way, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to my newspaper.” And with that he flew up to his front door, and went inside, closing it with a bang.
The others were still staring at Penguin who looked at the sky and then at his feet before saying shyly, “Shall we go?”
So they went.
It had stopped snowing when they arrived. It was still cold, but the grey clouds had blown away, leaving a clear blue sky and the snow sparkling in the sun. They were at the very top of the Forest and there was Christopher Robin in his big boots, wrapped up warm and waving to them. Everybody suddenly felt very cheerful, even Rabbit who was still worried about the amount of snow that, by now, was probably piling up against his wardrobe doors.
“Hullo, everyone,” said Christopher Robin, “you’ve met Penguin, I see.”
They all said “Hullo,” and yes they had and Pooh explained that they’d thought he had gone off to somewhere called “Boganin,” and then Christopher Robin started to laugh.
“I said, I’d gone tobogganing!” he explained, and pointed to something made of wood that was flat with a turned-up end and was gleaming with shiny, new, red paint against the snow.
“It’s a toboggan for sliding downhill on the snow. Watch!”
Christopher Robin jumped on the toboggan and went dashing off down the hillside very fast. When he reached the bottom, he got off and began climbing up again, pulling the toboggan behind him.
“Now,” said Christopher Robin when he got back to the top. “Who wants to go next?”
Everyone looked a little doubtful, but then seeing as Christopher Robin was enjoying it so much, thought why shouldn’t they try it too. Rabbit went first; then Pooh and Piglet went together, with Piglet holding tightly and keeping his eyes firmly shut.
When it came to Penguin’s turn, he hung back, saying in a very small voice, “I’m not sure if I can.”
“Come on, Penguin!” said Christopher Robin encouragingly.
Penguin still looked uncertain, but after taking a deep breath, he waddled towards the toboggan and sat down on it gingerly. And, after a gentle push from Christopher Robin, he took off with a whoosh.
At first Penguin was doing rather well and was picking up speed nicely. “He’s quite good, isn’t he,” Pooh said to Piglet, but suddenly the toboggan collided with a big stone sticking up out of the snow. It gave a sudden lurch and threw Penguin right off.
Everyone held their breath and Christopher Robin was about to call out to see if Penguin was all right when he realised that he didn’t need to. The toboggan had stopped, but Penguin had kept on going. Lying flat on his tummy, and propelling himself along with his little wings, he was now flying gracefully along over the snow.
When he arrived at the bottom of the hill, the spectators cheered, and Pooh said something Very Wise Indeed: “Some birds can toboggan, and others can’t, and that’s all there is to it!”
And that was that. Penguin was so delighted to find that he could go tobogganing without a toboggan, that he went up and down, and up and down, and then up and down again.
Then they all spent the next hour happily having races: Pooh and Rabbit taking turns to ride with Christopher Robin while Piglet rode on Penguin’s back, alternately laughing and squeaking excitedly, then keeping his eyes firmly shut.
“I really must be getting back,” Rabbit said eventually. “My house won’t un-snow itself you know.”
He picked up Christopher Robin’s spade, which he’d brought with him, in case of mishaps while tobogganing, and hurried off to start digging.
Penguin was asking Christopher Robin if they had time for just one more race when Pooh whispered to Piglet that he thought they had finally managed to Bring Penguin Out of Himself and Piglet whispered back that he thought so too.
That was when Pooh had an Idea. “Here is Penguin,” he said, “a visitor to the Hundred Acre Wood and yet none of us have invited him to come and visit. So, since it must be nearly time for a smackerel of something, let’s go home and have some honey—”
“And haycorns,” added Piglet.
“And haycorns,” said Pooh, “and mugs of hot chocolate.”
“Pardon me,” said Penguin, “please don’t think me rude, but you see, I’m not really an indoors kind of bird. I much prefer being out in the snow.”
Pooh thought for a moment and then he had Another Idea. “Well,” he said, “that being so, why don’t we have a Special Winter Picnic? I always think things taste better out of doors.”
Christopher Robin gave Pooh an admiring look as if to say, “Clever Old Bear!” and turned to see what Penguin thought.
“That sounds perfect,” said Penguin happily, and it was settled.
So, Pooh hurried home to get a jar of honey, and another scarf, while Piglet scampered off to get some of his best haycorns.
And when they got back to the Forest, Christopher Robin produced three mugs of steaming hot chocolate and an ice lollipop for Penguin and the Special Winter Picnic was a great success.
It was a day or two later when the snow had, at last, started to thaw, that Pooh went to see how Penguin was getting along, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Pooh was puzzling about this when Christopher Robin came along.
“Hullo, Bear,” he said.
“Hullo,” replied Pooh. “Where’s Penguin?”
“He’s gone,” said Christopher Robin carelessly.
“Oh,” said Pooh in surprise.
“On account of the snow,” explained Christopher Robin.
Pooh looked confused. “But the snow’s almost melted.”
“That was the trouble,” said Christopher Robin. “It was getting too warm for him.”
“So where did he go?” asked Pooh.
“Oh, you know,” Christopher Robin replied vaguely.
“Ah, yes,” said Pooh, who still didn’t.
“Well, then,” said Christopher Robin.
“Well, then,” said Pooh.
And there not being a lot more to say, they set off for home.
“Will Penguin come back?” asked Pooh.
“Maybe,” said Christopher Robin.
“Perhaps he’ll come and visit next wi
nter,” said Pooh.
“He might,” said Christopher Robin.
They walked on in silence for a while and Pooh was thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking, Christopher Robin,” said Pooh, “which do you like best: old friends or new?”
Christopher Robin thought and, after a long time, said: “Well, I like new friends because you never quite know what they’ll do next. But I like old friends, too, because, however long you’ve known them, you are always discovering things that you didn’t know before.”
SPRING
in which Eeyore suspects Another Donkey is after his thistles
BY
JEANNE WILLIS
SPRING WAS IN THE AIR. THE SUN WAS SHINING, the birds were nesting, and Winnie-the-Pooh was stumping along by the boggy end of the Forest admiring the daffodils and humming to himself when he bumped into his old friend Eeyore.
“Tra la la and a tiddle-tiddle-pom,” hummed Pooh, “Good morning, Eeyore!”
“Tra la la?” said Eeyore glumly. “Good morning? Not for me, it isn’t. I was as happy as a lark earlier. I might have known it wouldn’t last.”
Pooh gazed up at the clear blue sky.
“It’s a beautiful day,” he said.
“Not from where I’m sitting,” replied Eeyore.
“Try standing next to me,” said Pooh. “With a tiddle-tiddle-pom.”
Eeyore stood next to Pooh, but after a while, he shook his head.
“It’s not working.” He sighed. “It’s all right for you, full of the Joys of Spring, but what have I got to sing about, Pooh?”
Pooh scratched his head and thought. It was a bit early for thinking but just then he noticed a fresh patch of thistles growing by the pond. They were exactly the sort that Eeyore liked most, so Pooh said:
“Eeyore, you could sing a song of thistles.”
“Why would I?” said Eeyore.
“Because it’s a Munching kind of song and thistles make you happy,” said Pooh.
Eeyore hung his head.
“They did once,” he groaned. “Earlier, when I saw those new thistles I said, ‘Hurrah, the more the merrier!’ If I’d known he had his eye on them, I’d never have got my hopes up.”
“He who?” asked Pooh.
“Hee Haw!” said Eeyore. “There’s Another Donkey. I suspect he’s after my thistles and he didn’t look like the sort of donkey who likes sharing.”
Pooh could hardly believe his ears.
“There’s Another Donkey?” he said. “In this Forest?”
“The very same,” replied Eeyore. “And I don’t like the look of him one bit.”
“What did he look like?” wondered Pooh.
“This!” said Eeyore, pulling the sort of face a donkey makes when it’s about to eat another donkey’s thistles. Pooh was so startled, he sat down with a bump.
“I don’t like the look of him either!” he said. “Where is he now?”
Eeyore gave a sad little shrug.
“That’s a good question, Pooh. I was hoping you might know the answer.”
“So was I,” said Pooh.
“I would go and look for him,” said Eeyore. “But if I go, he will come and eat all my thistles without so much as a please or thank you.”
“Will he?” said Pooh.
“Of course. He’s Another Donkey. It’s what donkeys do,” said Eeyore. “Once he’s got a taste for them, he won’t leave me so much as a prickle. I shall waste away to a piece of string. Good-bye, Pooh. It was nice knowing you.”
Pooh was a Bear of Very Little Brain, but he knew a Friend In Need when he saw one.
“Eeyore,” he announced, “I, Winnie-the-Pooh, will do something about this.”
“What sort of something?” asked Eeyore.
Pooh ummed and he aahed and he marched up and down, then he said triumphantly, “A very BIG something.”
“Good luck,” said Eeyore. “Meanwhile here am I, fading away . . .”
“I shan’t be long,” said Pooh.
“How long?” grumbled Eeyore. “Teatime? Tomorrow? Some time never?”
“Just a bit longer than it takes to fetch Piglet,” said Pooh. “I would go on my own but finding Another Donkey is always quicker with two.”
With that, he hurried off to Piglet’s house, very much hoping that he wouldn’t meet Another Donkey on the way.
Piglet was busy doing nothing, but when Pooh arrived and wondered casually if he would help him track down Another Donkey who was after Eeyore’s thistles and causing him Great Distress, Piglet said he would be only too pleased, just as long as it didn’t look like a Heffalump.
“It doesn’t,” said Pooh.
“Did Eeyore say it was fierce?” asked Piglet.
“Not in so many words,” said Pooh. “It was what he did that bothered me.”
“What did he do, Pooh?” asked Piglet.
“This!” said Pooh, pulling the face of Another Donkey who didn’t like sharing. Piglet gave a squeak of fright and fell down quite suddenly. Just then, Rabbit came along, and seeing Piglet lying in the grass, he asked what he was up to.
“I’m busy,” said Piglet.
“Busy doing what?” asked Rabbit.
“Busy doing what Very Small Animals do when asked to track down Very Large Animals they don’t like the look of,” whispered Piglet.
Rabbit glanced around cautiously.
“What does this Very Large Animal look like exactly?’
“Show him, Pooh!” said Piglet, squeezing his eyes shut.
Pooh pulled the face he had pulled before and Rabbit jumped backwards in surprise.
“That looks a bit like Eeyore, only smiling!” he remarked.
“That’s because it’s Another Donkey,” said Pooh.
“And it’s after Eeyore’s thistles!” added Piglet. “Have you stopped pulling that face yet, Pooh?”
Pooh said he had, so Piglet opened his eyes and danced about in an anxious way, squealing, “Eeyore is in Great Distress! Help! Do something, Rabbit!”
“Me?” said Rabbit. “Like what, Piglet?”
“Like what, Pooh?” said Piglet.
“Like what, Rabbit?” said Pooh.
Rabbit didn’t know, but the longer they wondered what to do, the less thistles there would be for Eeyore so Rabbit counted everyone and noting that Piglet was half the size of Pooh he said, “There are two and a half of us and only one of him, so if we go together and ask him politely to share, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“What if there isn’t only one of him?” said Piglet. “What if there’s another Another Donkey?”
“Piglet has a point . . .” said Pooh thoughtfully.
Rabbit added everything up and came to a decision.
“To be on the safe side, I will ask all my friends and relations to come too, along with Kanga and Tigger and—”
“Tigger?” said Piglet doubtfully.
Piglet was very fond of Tigger but he was worried that his bounciness might upset Another Donkey who might not like being bounced and might fly into a rage.
“Yes, Tigger,” said Rabbit firmly. “The Other Donkey might be one of the fiercer animals, in which case, Tigger will keep him in his place.”
“Not if he bounces him,” said Pooh who had once been bounced by Tigger and ended up in another place entirely.
“That’s the beauty of it,” said Rabbit. “If Tigger comes, he’s so bouncy, it will seem like there are more of us than there really are, which is good because there’s Safety in Numbers.”
Pooh wasn’t good at numbers but the fact that Rabbit had more relatives than he could count was an Enormous Comfort, so he gave Piglet his paw and gathering Rabbit’s friends and relations on the way, they went to find Kanga.
Kanga was sitting under a pine tree teaching Roo to count
.
“Hullo, one Pooh! Hullo, one Piglet! Hullo, one Rabbit!” said Roo. “Guess what I’m doing? I’m learning to count . . . one, two, four, three, five, six!”
“So you are!” said Pooh.
“Talking of numbers, Kanga,” said Rabbit, “There’s Another Donkey in the wood . . .”
“Possibly three!” squeaked Piglet.
“And we were wondering,” continued Rabbit, “if you would come with us and ask it not to do something.”
“Why, what has it done, dear?” said Kanga.
“It’s not what it’s done so much as what it might do,” said Pooh. “It might not share Eeyore’s thistles and it’s making him gloomy.”
To which Kanga said, “Tut! We can’t have that! Come along, Roo. I think the Other Donkey needs teaching a lesson.”
“Ooh!” said Roo, jumping into Kanga’s apron pocket. “Are you going to teach it to count? I can count . . . listen, Piglet! One, three, five, two, four, six!”
“That’s the way,” said Piglet, paying more attention to where Tigger wasn’t than to Roo’s counting. He couldn’t see him anywhere, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t somewhere because Hiding was what Tiggers did best.
“Tigger’s gone fishing, dear,” said Kanga.
“When will he be home?” asked Rabbit. “We were hoping he’d come too.”
“I thought he’d be back by now,” said Kanga. “But Tigger is big enough to look after himself. I wouldn’t worry.”
But Piglet did worry, so Kanga said, “Come along, Piglet. There will be plenty of us; me, you, Rabbit, Pooh, Roo and . . .”
“Roo is too little to count,” said Piglet.
“I can count, Piglet!” insisted Roo. “One, three, two four, five, six!”
Piglet was so impressed with Roo’s counting, he said he would come along if he could hide in Kanga’s pocket.So, when she’d brushed out the crumbs, he jumped in next to Roo and off they all went to search for the Other Donkey, or three, with Pooh leading the way.
The Best Bear in All the World Page 3