'So there it is,' said Pooh, when he had sung this to himself three times. 'It's come different from what I thought it would, but it's come. Now I must go and sing it to Piglet.'
I AM SCERCHING FOR A NEW HOUSE FOR OWL SO HAD YOU RABBIT.
'What's all this?' said Eeyore.
Rabbit explained.
'What's the matter with his old house?'
Rabbit explained.
'Nobody tells me,' said Eeyore. 'Nobody keeps me Informed. I make it seventeen days come Friday since anybody spoke to me.'
'It certainly isn't seventeen days …'
'Come Friday,' explained Eeyore.
'And to-day's Saturday,' said Rabbit. 'So that would make it eleven days. And I was here myself a week ago.'
'Not conversing,' said Eeyore. 'Not first one and then the other. You said 'Hallo' and Flashed Past. I saw your tail a hundred yards up the hill as I was meditating my reply. I had thought of saying 'What?'-but, of course, it was then too late.'
'Well, I was in a hurry.'
'No Give and Take,' Eeyore went on. 'No Exchange of Thought. 'Hallo-What'– I mean, it gets you nowhere, particularly if the other person's tail is only just in sight for the second half of the conversation.'
'It's your fault, Eeyore. You've never been to see any of us. You just stay here in this one corner of the Forest waiting for the others to come to you. Why don't you go to them sometimes?'
Eeyore was silent for a little while, thinking.
'There may be something in what you say, Rabbit,' he said at last. 'I have been neglecting you. I must move about more. I must come and go.'
'That's right, Eeyore. Drop in on any of us at any time, when you feel like it.'
'Thank-you, Rabbit. And if anybody says in a Loud Voice 'Bother, it's Eeyore,' I can drop out again.'
Rabbit stood on one leg for a moment.
'Well,' he said, 'I must be going. I am rather busy this morning.'
'Good– bye,' said Eeyore.
'What? Oh, good-bye. And if you happen to come across a good house for Owl, you must let us know.'
'I will give my mind to it,' said Eeyore.
Rabbit went.
Pooh had found Piglet, and they were walking back to the Hundred Acre Wood together.
'Piglet,' said Pooh a little shyly, after they had walked for some time without saying anything.
'Yes, Pooh?'
'Do you remember when I said that a Respectful Pooh Song might be written about You Know What?'
'Did you, Pooh?' said Piglet, getting a little pink round the nose. 'Oh, yes, I believe you did.'
'It's been written, Piglet.'
The pink went slowly up Piglet's nose to his ears, and settled there.
'Has it, Pooh?' he asked huskily. 'About… about… That Time When?– Do you mean really written?'
'Yes, Piglet.'
The tips of Piglet's ears glowed suddenly, and he tried to say something; but even after he had husked once or twice, nothing came out. So Pooh went on:
'There are seven verses in it.'
'Seven?' said Piglet as carelessly as he could. 'You don't often get seven verses in a Hum, do you, Pooh?'
'Never,' said Pooh. 'I don't suppose it's ever been heard of before.'
'Do the Others know yet?' asked Piglet, stopping – for a moment to pick up a stick and throw it away.
'No,' said Pooh. 'And I wondered which you would like best: for me to hum it now, or to wait till we find