said Pooh, and he went off happily to bed.

But long after Pooh was asleep, Piglet lay awake thinking about hums, and why this one had seemed a little...a little...

“I mean the arrival of an otter in the Forest,” (he said to himself with a frown of concentration), “is certainly a big thing. And finding water when you need it is a very big thing. And nobody in the world heard Pooh’s hum before I did, and tomorrow we’re going to hum it to the others together, and that’s something too, so if the hum was a little . . . not quite . . . well, it doesn’t really matter. Maybe tomorrow there will be another adventure with me in it, and Pooh will write another hum about it, and then I shan’t feel quite so...quite so...”

But before he knew exactly what he might not feel quite so-ish about, he had fallen asleep and was dreaming about a tame Heffalump and a friendly Thesaurus, and snoring a few very quietsnores,although of course there was nobody there to hear him, so you and I are the only ones to know.

Chapter Five

in which Pooh goes in search of honey

ONE MORNING WHEN Winnie-the-Pooh was Doing Nothing Very Much, but doing it rather well, he thought he would call on his old friend Christopher Robin and see whether he was doing anything. If not, perhaps they could do nothing together, because there are few things nicer than doing nothing with a friend.

“Are you busy?” inquired Pooh.

“Asbusyasabee,”saidChristopher Robin, “which is not really very busy at all since all bees seem to do is buzz.”

“Andmakehoney, don’t forget that. And speaking of honey...”

“My goodness, it’s nearly time for elevenses,” said Christopher Robin as Pooh sat down. “Would you care for some toast and marmalade?”

“I do believe I would,” said Pooh gravely. “I don’t suppose you could see your way . . .”

“’Fraid not,” said Christopher Robin, “right out of honey. But there’s some condensed milk.”

So they both had a slice of toast and marmalade, cut into strips which Christopher Robin called “soldiers.” then, while they ate, Pooh asked a difficult question.

“I have been thinking about honey,” he said, “and how we get it from the bees. Do you think they mind us taking it?”

“They probably want us to,” said Christopher Robin, “otherwise they’d run out of room. Like cows and milk.”

Pooh said: “I think we ought to say thank you to them.”

“That’s an excellent idea. Shall we go now? There’s No Time Like the Present.”

Pooh wrinkled his brow. “But we don’t have a present, do we? I wonder what the bees would like.”

Christopher Robin thought for a while, then decided to take them a model airplane, “Because they must be interested in flying.” Also a yo-yo because he had two, and a tin model of a farmhouse complete with climbing roses.

“If I were a bee,” said Pooh, “I would like best something beginning with B, but the only thing I can think of beginning with B is ‘bee,’ and they’ve got plenty of those already.”

“How about bread and butter?” suggested Christopher Robin.

So it was agreed that along with the airplane and the yo-yo and the farmhouse, they would take bread and butter wrapped up in greaseproof paper. But when they reached the hollow oak in which the bees had taken up residence—oh, many years ago, long before the days of Pooh and Christopher Robin—Pooh looked at the oak and then at Christopher Robin and then back at the oak.

“Do you see what I don’t see, Christopher Robin?”

“Yes, Pooh. Or no, as the case may be.”

There were no bees in the hollow oak. Christopher Robin and Pooh walked around the tree several times and into it and out of it again. There was nothing except a few wood lice.

“Let’s look on the bright side,” said Christopher Robin.

“Is there a bright side?”

“Of course there is, Pooh. Here we are with several slices of bread and butter and nobody to eat them.”

“Well, there is somebody to eat them,” said Pooh, “and that is certainly a bright side, but, on the dark side, if there are no bees...”

“I was thinking of that myself, Pooh.”

“Oh dear,” said Pooh.

“Cheer up, Pooh.”

Christopher Robin handed him a piece of bread and butter. “We will organize a Search Party.”

“I don’t think I am feeling verywell,”saidPooh,passing the bread and butter back to Christopher Robin. “I shall go home and count my pots of honey.”

But when he reached home, another shock awaited him. There were only three pots