If Piglet hadn’t known it was Tigger, he might have mistaken the sounds of his approach for a whole herd of rampaging Heffalumps. The excitable animal came crashing towards them through the leaves, snapping twigs and alarming some of Rabbit’s smaller friends and relations in the undergrowth.
“Hullopoohandpiglet. Phew—it’s too hot for Tiggers today!” said Tigger breathlessly, as he flung himself across the picnic cloth (luckily Kanga had cleared away what was left of the food). “You shouldn’t bounce so much, dear,” said Kanga, giving him the bottle of malt. “It can’t be good for your digestion.”
Tigger slurped his Extract of Malt and Kanga and Pooh told him about the journey they were about to take to find the Sauce of the river.
“I think I’ve just been there,” said Tigger. “I was going along the bit of the river that’s closest to Christopher Robin’s house when I saw it.”
Pooh asked, “Saw what?”
“The Sauce,” said Tigger. “There it was, in the middle of a big tree stump.”
Pooh and Piglet were so excited to hear this that Pooh forgot the last lick of condensed milk and Piglet stopped not wanting to carry on with the journey.
“I knew we were getting closer,” Pooh said happily. “What did it look like, Tigger?”
“A bit like that,” said Tigger—and he pointed his paw at Pooh’s empty jar of honey.
“Now, Tigger dear,” said Kanga. “Are you sure that’s what you saw? Were you the right way up when you looked at it?”
“Yes!” said Tigger, with an impatient bounce. “It was just like that!”
“So the Sauce looks like honey,” Pooh said, rubbing his head. “Did you happen to taste it?”
“No,” said Tigger. “Tiggers don’t like honey, or anything that looks like it might be honey.”
“Perhaps it’s something nice for tea,” said Kanga. “Come along, Roo.”
Pooh and Piglet, Kanga and Roo and Tigger began to walk (or bounce) along the riverbank, until they came to the place that was closest to Christopher Robin’s house.
Tigger and Roo bounced eagerly towards the tree stump where Tigger had seen the Sauce.
“Found it!” Tigger’s voice shouted back at the others. “It still looks like a jar of honey!”
Pooh was very pleased to hear that the Sauce of the river was so much like honey, but he was also puzzled. “I wonder why I’ve never noticed it before.”
“This doesn’t look like the beginning of the river,” said Piglet. “Or the end. We’re still in the middle. So that can’t be the proper Sauce.”
“Hmm,” said Pooh. “I’d better taste it, to make sure there’s nothing the matter with it.” He hurried towards the large, flat tree stump.
“And there’s bread and jam now!” said Roo happily.
To the amazement of Pooh and Piglet, the tree stump was spread not only with a large jar marked “HONEY,” but also a loaf of bread, a jar of strawberry jam, and a heap of little spoons.
“How thoughtful,” said Kanga.
Pooh had to rub his head with his paw for a long time to make sense of it all.
Piglet asked, “Was there anything about honey and bread and jam in that book about the Sauce of the Nile, Pooh?”
“No,” said Pooh slowly. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.”
At that moment, the door of Christopher Robin’s house opened, and out came Christopher Robin himself, carrying a large tray.
Everyone ran to hug him, taking care not to make him drop the tray.
“It’s such a lovely day that I decided to have a tea party for all my friends,” said Christopher Robin. “I’ve nearly finished laying the table and I was just going to come and look for you all. What are you doing here?”
“We’re looking for the Sauce of the river,” explained Pooh. “Like the Sauce of the Nile.”
“We thought it might be like applesauce,” said Piglet. “And in a jug.”
“Oh,” said Christopher Robin. He put down the tray. “I think you might be a bit mixed-up, Pooh. Some words like to be in two places at once and not mean the same thing at all.”
“What words?” asked Pooh.
Christopher Robin thought hard for a moment, then said, “Well, RAW food, which isn’t cooked, hardly ever ROARS. And the book I read to you last night was about the SOURCE of the Nile, which means the beginning, and you eat apple SAUCE near the end.”
“Oh!” said Pooh.
“OH!” said everyone.
Piglet felt a little silly, until Christopher Robin said, “How clever of you to come to my tea party before I even invited you,” which made it much better.
“I knew I’d end up with something nice to eat,” said Pooh happily. “And I’m glad it’s honey and not sauce.”
It wasn’t time for tea yet. Christopher Robin sent Tigger off to tell Owl, Eeyore, Rabbit, and all their friends about the party, including any of Rabbit’s friends and relations who happened to be in the area (some of them were too small to travel long distances).
While they were waiting for everyone to arrive, Pooh and Christopher Robin sat side by side in a shady place, leaning against the trunk of a big tree.
“You’re very quiet, Pooh,” said Christopher Robin.
“That’s because I’m thinking,” said Pooh. “And I can’t think and talk at the same time.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“I was trying to think of something nicer than a summer tea party,” said Pooh. “But I can’t, because there isn’t anything nicer. Now I’ve got that settled, I think I’ll stop thinking.” He folded his paws on his round stomach and gazed at the tea table with a look of dreamy contentment.
And Christopher Robin smiled, and said to himself, “Dear old bear!”
AFTERWORD
PAUL BRIGHT
I have, somewhere on my bookshelf, a copy of Winnie-the-Pooh in Latin, called Winnie Ille Pu, which shows Pooh wearing a Roman helmet. I may have had that picture at the back of my mind when Eeyore found the Something Interesting. My dragon, even though he never appears, is, I think, a close relative of the dragon that Christopher Robin talks to in the poem “In the Dark,” from Now We Are Six. And then there is Piglet. Piglet is very small and very shy, but he is also cleverer than some of the other creatures realise. In Winnie-the-Pooh, when Piglet was surrounded by water, he wrote a message saying: “HELP! PIGLIT (ME),” and I thought he might like to do some more writing this time. And he thought so too.
BRIAN SIBLEY
I have loved A. A. Milne’s stories and poems (and E. H. Shepard’s pictures that go with them) since I was very young. Later, when I was rather older, I had the pleasure of getting to know Christopher Robin Milne, corresponding with Ernest Shepard, and writing about their history with that “Bear of Little Brain” in my book Three Cheers for Pooh!
The idea for my story came from seeing an old photograph showing Milne and the young Christopher Robin playing with Winnie-the-Pooh—and a toy penguin!
Just supposing, I thought, that Penguin, like Kanga, Roo, and Tigger, had, one day, found his way into the Hundred Acre Wood . . .
A. A. Milne and his son, Christopher Robin, playing with Winnie-the-Pooh and Penguin.
JEANNE WILLIS
Why was I so thrilled and delighted to contribute to this anthology? To quote Christopher Robin, “Wherever I am, there’s always Pooh, there’s always Pooh and me.” It has been that way since my Auntie Kay gave me a copy of When We Were Very Young for my fifth birthday. That same year, I starred as the queen in the Wheatfields Infants’ School production of “The King’s Breakfast” and apart from my melodramatic gagging when the “king” attempted to kiss me in the manner suggested in the poem, it was one of my finest moments.
Pooh is with me still and always will be. He filled my childhood days with sunshine, eve
n when it rained and rained and rained. But more than that, he was my muse and a very amusing muse he was too. He inspired the rhythm for my own writing and, for that, I am eternally grateful, so . . . three cheers for Pooh! (For who?) For Pooh!
KATE SAUNDERS
Pooh and I go back a long way. One of my earliest memories is of my father reading the stories to us, and weaving Pooh references into everyday life—for instance, one of our favourite outings was called “stopping for a Little Something,” which usually meant Coke and crisps in a pub garden. Dad taught me to appreciate Pooh’s talent for simply sitting in the moment and enjoying life, and I have always loved the old bear’s unfailing optimism; he is a blue-skies sort of bear, and that was the spirit I tried to get into my story. Some of his ideas might be on the silly side, but no matter what happens, he is always delighted and never disappointed —in the Hundred Acre Wood, all endings are happy.
MARK BURGESS
I was delighted to be asked to illustrate this new collection of Winnie-the-Pooh stories. The idea of having four stories set throughout the year was particularly attractive to me, as I love the different seasons. It was a lovely opportunity to show the Forest in all its variety. And, of course, I relished the chance to draw Pooh and his friends—both old and new. They are so much fun to be with and the authors of this book have given them some wonderful new adventures.
ABOUT A. A. MILNE
A. A. Milne was born in London in 1882. He began his writing career with humorous pieces for Punch magazine. It was in this publication, in 1923, that Winnie-the-Pooh made his first appearance in the poem “Teddy Bear” Milne also wrote plays and by the time his first book of poems When We Were Very Young, was published in 1924, he had already made his name as a dramatist and novelist.
ABOUT E. H. SHEPARD
E. H. Shepard was born in 1879 and became known as the “Man who drew Pooh.” But he was also an acclaimed artist in his own right. Shepard won a scholarship to the Royal Academy Schools, and much later, like Milne, worked for Punch magazine as a cartoonist and illustrator. Shepard’s illustrations of Winnie-the-Pooh and the friends of the Hundred Acre Wood have become classics in their own right and are recognized all over the world.
The Best Bear in All the World Page 5