The house at Pooh Corner

three sticks on the ground, and was looking at them. Two of the sticks were touching at one end, but not at the other, and the third stick was laid across them. Piglet thought that perhaps it was a Trap of some kind.

'Oh, Eeyore,' he began again, 'I just …'

'Is that little Piglet?' said Eeyore, still looking hard at his sticks.

'Yes, Eeyore, and I …'

'Do you know what this is?'

'No,' said Piglet.

'It's an A.'

'Oh,' said Piglet.

'Not O – A,' said Eeyore severely. 'Can't you hear, or do you think you have more education than Christopher Robin?'

'Yes,' said Piglet. 'No,' said Piglet very quickly. And he came closer still.

'Christopher Robin said it was an A, and an A it is-until somebody treads on it,' Eeyore added sternly.

Piglet jumped backwards hurriedly, and smelt at his violets.

'Do you know what A means, little Piglet?'

'No, Eeyore, I don't.'

'It means Learning, it means Education, it means all the things that you and Pooh haven't got. That's what A means.'

'Oh,' said Piglet again. 'I mean, does it?' he explained quickly.

'I'm telling you. People come and go in this Forest, and they say, 'It's only Eeyore, so it doesn't count.' They walk to and fro saying 'Ha ha!' But do they know anything about A? They don't. It's just three sticks to them. But to the Educated-mark this, little Piglet-to the Educated, not meaning Poohs and Piglets, it's a great and glorious A. Not,' he added, 'just something that anybody can come and breathe on.'

Piglet stepped back nervously, and looked round for help.

'Here's Rabbit,' he said gladly. 'Hallo, Rabbit.'

Rabbit came up importantly, nodded to Piglet, and said, 'Ah, Eeyore,' in the voice of one who would be saying 'Good-bye ' in about two more minutes.

'There's just one thing I wanted to ask you, Eeyore. What happens to Christopher Robin in the mornings nowadays?'

'What's this that I'm looking at?' said Eeyore, still looking at it.

'Three sticks,' said Rabbit promptly.

'You see?' said Eeyore to Piglet. He turned to Rabbit. 'I will now answer your question,' he said solemnly.

'Thank you,' said Rabbit.

'What does Christopher Robin do in the mornings? He learns. He becomes Educated. He instigorates-I think that is the word he mentioned, but I may be referring to something else-he instigorates Knowledge. In my small way I also, if I have the word right, am-am doing what he does. That, for instance, is?'

'An A,' said Rabbit, 'but not a very good one. Well, I must get back and tell the others.'

Eeyore looked at his sticks and then he looked at Piglet.

'What did Rabbit say it was?' he asked.

'An A,' said Piglet.

'Did you tell him?'

'No, Eeyore, I didn't. I expect he just knew.'

'He knew? You mean this A thing is a thing Rabbit knew?'

'Yes, Eeyore. He's clever, Rabbit is.'

'Clever!' said Eeyore scornfully, putting a foot heavily on his three sticks. 'Education!' said Eeyore bitterly, jumping on his six sticks. 'What is Learning?' asked Eeyore as he kicked his twelve sticks into the air. 'A thing Rabbit knows! Ha!'

'I think …' began Piglet nervously.

'Don't,' said Eeyore.

'I think Violets are rather nice,' said Piglet. And he laid his bunch in front of Eeyore and scampered off.

Next morning the notice on Christopher Robins door said:

GONE OUT

BACK SOON

C. R.

Which is why all the animals in the Forest– except, of course, the Spotted and Herbaceous Backson-now know what Christopher Robin does in the mornings.

Chapter VI. In which Pooh invents a new gameand eeyore joins in

BY the time it came to the edge of the Forest the stream had grown up, so that it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run and jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger, but moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it said to itself, 'There is no hurry. We shall get there some day.' But all the little streams higher up in the Forest went this way and that, quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it was too late.

There was a broad track, almost as broad as a road, leading from the Outland to the Forest, but before it could come to the Forest, it had to cross this river. So, where it crossed, there was a wooden bridge, almost as broad as a road, with wooden rails on each side of it. Christopher Robin could just get his chin on to the top rail, if he wanted to, but it was more fun to stand on the bottom rail, so that he could lean right over, and watch the river slipping slowly away beneath him. Pooh could get his chin on to the bottom rail he if wanted to, but it was more fun to lie down and get his head under it, and watch the river slipping slowly away beneath him. And this was the only way in which Piglet and Roo could watch the river at all, because they were too small to reach the bottom rail. So they would lie down and watch it... and it slipped away very slowly, being in no hurry to get there.

One day, when Pooh was walking towards this bridge, he was trying to make up a piece of poetry about fir-cones, because there they were, lying about on each side of him, and he felt singy. So he picked a fir-cone up, and looked at it, and said to himself, 'This is a very good fir-cone, and something ought to rhyme to it.' But he couldn't think of anything. And then this came into his head suddenly:

Here is a myst'ry
About a little fir-tree.
Owl says it's his tree,
And Kanga says it's her tree.

'Which doesn't make sense,' said Pooh, 'because Kanga doesn't live in a tree.'

He had just come to the bridge; and not looking where he was going, he tripped over something, and the