Showing posts with label pooh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pooh. Show all posts

Thursday, August 28, 2025

thirty-two

 






Clerkmanifesto is going context free for 100 days!

While I retire from 31 years at the Roseville Library, sell nearly everything I own, fly with my darling wife to Japan for 40 days, and then move together to France to start to build a life there, I present a less explained clerkmanifesto, a clerkmanifesto of snapshots and time travel. Below you may see old posts without introduction from my 4,750 post collection. You may see random photos, brand new or years old. I may write a passage about Japan as if of course you know I'm in Japan, I may make a simple observation or joke, but whatever it is, I won't be explaining it. You'll have to take it as it comes.

For more context you are welcome to read this longer introduction.

And if this is all too confusing I welcome you to investigate our thousands of fully explained historic posts from the past 12 years, though I'll be the first to admit, hours later, you may still come away a little confused.


Here, however it works, is what clerkmanifesto has for you today:






A variety of pictures that are sort of from various versions of the Hundred Acre Wood:































































































































































































































































































































































Friday, August 8, 2025

twelve

  






Clerkmanifesto is going context free for 100 days!

While I retire from 31 years at the Roseville Library, sell nearly everything I own, fly with my darling wife to Japan for 40 days, and then move together to France to start to build a life there, I present a less explained clerkmanifesto, a clerkmanifesto of snapshots and time travel. Below you may see old posts without introduction from my 4,750 post collection. You may see random photos, brand new or years old. I may write a passage about Japan as if of course you know I'm in Japan, I may make a simple observation or joke, but whatever it is, I won't be explaining it. You'll have to take it as it comes.

For more context you are welcome to read this longer introduction.

And if this is all too confusing I welcome you to investigate our thousands of fully explained historic posts from the past 12 years, though I'll be the first to admit, hours later, you may still come away a little confused.


Here, however it works, is what clerkmanifesto has for you today:







To celebrate the release of Winnie the Pooh from its terrible prison of copyright, I decided a few years ago that I would rewrite the whole thing here, on clerkmanifesto, in my own way. This turned out... really well! I was surprised. But as with all of the large scale specific projects of clerkmanifesto, I did not finish it. Sticking with something as big as that entails a different kind of work and commitment that always becomes unsuited to the more inspiration based clerkmanifesto. In a different world I suppose an insightful publisher would have called and given me an advance to write the whole rewritten Pooh all the way through, and I would have found joy in doing that as well, but we are in this world, which is why you are reading this, and why cheese is so delicious, and why your foot hurts.

So this then is from a few years ago, maybe? It comes, of course, early in the book. The original is provided for comparison afterward, for the scholars among you.








When you got back to the tree with the umbrella Winnie the Pooh called out: "Whew! There you are." Then he added "The bees definitely suspect something." And then he amended that loudly to "The bees mistakenly suspect something." But that last part he said more to the bees than to you.

"Should I unfurl my umbrella?" You asked.

"That would be great," Pooh said. "But we should do it properly. We need to convince the Queen Bee most of all. Can you see the Queen Bee?" Pooh asked.

"No."

"Ohhhh. That's too bad. Well, maybe open up your umbrella and walk around under it saying 'Oy gevalt, it sure does look like rain is coming!' And I'll sing some kind of song one would expect a cloud to sing."

"If clouds sang?" You asked.

"Exactly!" Pooh exclaimed, delighted by your understanding.

So you walked about wondering if it would rain while Winnie the Pooh sang this little song:



"I am a little cloud,

Trying not to schvitz.

I always sing aloud,

Not meaning to kibitz.


The rain is coming soon dear bees,

It is my cloudy wish,

And now my song must end,

For I am out of Yiddish."


The bees though only seemed to become more excited by Pooh's song. After the first verse one of them even landed on Pooh's nose! So Pooh called down to you. "I just remembered something!" Pooh called down.

"What's that?" You asked.

"I'm vegan." Replied Pooh, sadly.

"You're vegan?" You asked.

"Yes." Pooh answered. "And I don't think these are the vegan kind of bees."

"So they probably don't make the vegan kind of honey?" I asked.

"Yes." Pooh answered. "And that's the kind of honey I like.

"Is it?" You asked, trying to figure it all out.

"Yes." Pooh answered. "So I think I'd better come down."

"How?" You asked.

"I hadn't really thought." Pooh said. So he thought, but not being able to put his head in his paws his thinking wasn't fancy. "Do you have a gun?" Pooh asked.

"Silly bear." You replied.

"Do you see any soft places then?"

"Yes." You said. "I see a soft place."

"I'm going to drop, then." Winnie the Pooh said.

He didn't drop.

"How soft?" He asked.

"It looks pretty soft."

So he dropped.

And he fell.

And he bounced a couple of times.

And then it was over.

"I was the soft place?" Winnie the Pooh asked. "Wasn't I?"

"I have some honey at my house." You said.

"Is it vegan honey?" Pooh asked.

"No."

"Good." Pooh said.









































"Oh, there you are!" called down Winnie-the-Pooh, as soon as you got back to the tree. "I was beginning to get anxious. I have discovered that the bees are now definitely Suspicious."

"Shall I put my umbrella up?" you said.

"Yes, but wait a moment. We must be practical. The important bee to deceive is the Queen Bee. Can you see which is the Queen Bee from down there?"

"No."

"A pity. Well, now, if you walk up and down with your umbrella, saying, 'Tut-tut, it looks like rain,' I shall do what I can by singing a little Cloud Song, such as a cloud might sing.... Go!"

So, while you walked up and down and wondered if it would rain, Winnie-the-Pooh sang this song:

How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue!
Every little cloud
Always sings aloud.
"How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue!"
It makes him very proud
To be a little cloud.

The bees were still buzzing as suspiciously as ever. Some of them, indeed, left their nests and flew all round the cloud as it began the second verse of this song, and one bee sat down on the nose of the cloud for a moment, and then got up again.



"Christopher—ow!—Robin," called out the cloud.

"Yes?"

"I have just been thinking, and I have come to a very important decision. These are the wrong sort of bees."

"Are they?"

"Quite the wrong sort. So I should think they would make the wrong sort of honey, shouldn't you?"



"Would they?"

"Yes. So I think I shall come down."

"How?" asked you.

Winnie-the-Pooh hadn't thought about this. If he let go of the string, he would fall—bump—and he didn't like the idea of that. So he thought for a long time, and then he said:

"Christopher Robin, you must shoot the balloon with your gun. Have you got your gun?"

"Of course I have," you said. "But if I do that, it will spoil the balloon," you said.

"But if you don't," said Pooh, "I shall have to let go, and that would spoil me."

When he put it like this, you saw how it was, and you aimed very carefully at the balloon, and fired.

"Ow!" said Pooh.

"Did I miss?" you asked.

"You didn't exactly miss," said Pooh, "but you missed the balloon."

"I'm so sorry," you said, and you fired again, and this time you hit the balloon, and the air came slowly out, and Winnie-the-Pooh floated down to the ground.

But his arms were so stiff from holding on to the string of the balloon all that time that they stayed up straight in the air for more than a week, and whenever a fly came and settled on his nose he had to blow it off. And I think—but I am not sure—that that is why he was always called Pooh.














Thursday, March 30, 2023

The Plagiarized Winnie the Pooh: We Reflect

 



So you wonder: "Was that the end of the story?"

"I'm sorry." I reply. "I would have been more clear about it, but we had to have this part where we discuss whether it was the end of the story first."

"So now is it the end of the story?"

"It's the end of one story. There are others."

"Ones with me in it. And Pooh?" You ask.

"And Piglet, and Eeyore, yes. Don't you remember?"

"Yes. I remember. But then when I think of them they seem different. I remember Pooh, but I forgot how I got to be there."

"You belonged there so we're reminding you. Do you remember the day where Pooh and Piglet tried to catch the Heffalump?"

"They didn't catch it?"

"No." I say.

"Because Pooh wouldn't know what to do with it. Did I catch it?"

"Would you know what to do with it?"

"I would if you told me."

"I'll tell you, and other things too."

"And Pooh. You'll tell Pooh? Because he doesn't remember things so well. And he'd like to remember them better."

"I would like that too." I said.

"I'm going to have some tea now." You said.

"And a cookie." You said.

"And a lot of honey, for Pooh." Someone said.

"Will you come?" You asked.

"I might." I said, because it was so nice of you to ask.

"The bouncing didn't hurt Pooh when he fell?" You wondered.

"Too soft." I said.

"That's good." You said nodding your head. 

Then you and Pooh left because there wasn't any more story for today.














"Is that the end of the story?" asked Christopher Robin.

"That's the end of that one. There are others."

"About Pooh and Me?"

"And Piglet and Rabbit and all of you. Don't you remember?"

"I do remember, and then when I try to remember, I forget."

"That day when Pooh and Piglet tried to catch the Heffalump——"

"They didn't catch it, did they?"

"No."

"Pooh couldn't, because he hasn't any brain. Did I catch it?"

"Well, that comes into the story."

Christopher Robin nodded.

"I do remember," he said, "only Pooh doesn't very well, so that's why he likes having it told to him again. Because then it's a real story and not just a remembering."

"That's just how I feel," I said.

Christopher Robin gave a deep sigh, picked his Bear up by the leg, and walked off to the door, trailing Pooh behind him. At the door he turned and said, "Coming to see me have my bath?"

"I might," I said.

"I didn't hurt him when I shot him, did I?"

"Not a bit."

He nodded and went out, and in a moment I heard Winnie-the-Pooh—bump, bump, bump—going up the stairs behind him.











Friday, March 24, 2023

The Plagiarized Winnie the Pooh: The Wrong Kind of Bees

 



When you got back to the tree with the umbrella Winnie the Pooh called out: "Whew! There you are." Then he added "The bees definitely suspect something." And then he amended that loudly to "The bees mistakenly suspect something." But that last part he said more to the bees than to you.

"Should I unfurl my umbrella?" You asked.

"That would be great," Pooh said. "But we should do it properly. We need to convince the Queen Bee most of all. Can you see the Queen Bee?" Pooh asked.

"No."

"Ohhhh. That's too bad. Well, maybe open up your umbrella and walk around under it saying 'Oy gevalt, it sure does look like rain is coming!' And I'll sing some kind of song one would expect a cloud to sing."

"If clouds sang?" You asked.

"Exactly!" Pooh exclaimed, delighted by your understanding.

So you walked about wondering if it would rain while Winnie the Pooh sang this little song:



"I am a little cloud,

Trying not to schvitz.

I always sing aloud,

Not meaning to kibitz.


The rain is coming soon dear bees,

It is my cloudy wish,

And now my song must end,

For I am out of Yiddish."


The bees though only seemed to become more excited by Pooh's song. After the first verse one of them even landed on Pooh's nose! So Pooh called down to you. "I just remembered something!" Pooh called down.

"What's that?" You asked.

"I'm vegan." Replied Pooh, sadly.

"You're vegan?" You asked.

"Yes." Pooh answered. "And I don't think these are the vegan kind of bees."

"So they probably don't make the vegan kind of honey?" I asked.

"Yes." Pooh answered. "And that's the kind of honey I like.

"Is it?" You asked, trying to figure it all out.

"Yes." Pooh answered. "So I think I'd better come down."

"How?" You asked.

"I hadn't really thought." Pooh said. So he thought, but not being able to put his head in his paws his thinking wasn't fancy. "Do you have a gun?" Pooh asked.

"Silly bear." You replied.

"Do you see any soft places then?"

"Yes." You said. "I see a soft place."

"I'm going to drop, then." Winnie the Pooh said.

He didn't drop.

"How soft?" He asked.

"It looks pretty soft."

So he dropped.

And he fell.

And he bounced a couple of times.

And then it was over.

"I was the soft place?" Winnie the Pooh asked. "Wasn't I?"

"I have some honey at my house." You said.

"Is it vegan honey?" Pooh asked.

"No."

"Good." Pooh said.









































"Oh, there you are!" called down Winnie-the-Pooh, as soon as you got back to the tree. "I was beginning to get anxious. I have discovered that the bees are now definitely Suspicious."

"Shall I put my umbrella up?" you said.

"Yes, but wait a moment. We must be practical. The important bee to deceive is the Queen Bee. Can you see which is the Queen Bee from down there?"

"No."

"A pity. Well, now, if you walk up and down with your umbrella, saying, 'Tut-tut, it looks like rain,' I shall do what I can by singing a little Cloud Song, such as a cloud might sing.... Go!"

So, while you walked up and down and wondered if it would rain, Winnie-the-Pooh sang this song:

How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue!
Every little cloud
Always sings aloud.
"How sweet to be a Cloud
Floating in the Blue!"
It makes him very proud
To be a little cloud.

The bees were still buzzing as suspiciously as ever. Some of them, indeed, left their nests and flew all round the cloud as it began the second verse of this song, and one bee sat down on the nose of the cloud for a moment, and then got up again.



"Christopher—ow!—Robin," called out the cloud.

"Yes?"

"I have just been thinking, and I have come to a very important decision. These are the wrong sort of bees."

"Are they?"

"Quite the wrong sort. So I should think they would make the wrong sort of honey, shouldn't you?"



"Would they?"

"Yes. So I think I shall come down."

"How?" asked you.

Winnie-the-Pooh hadn't thought about this. If he let go of the string, he would fall—bump—and he didn't like the idea of that. So he thought for a long time, and then he said:

"Christopher Robin, you must shoot the balloon with your gun. Have you got your gun?"

"Of course I have," you said. "But if I do that, it will spoil the balloon," you said.

"But if you don't," said Pooh, "I shall have to let go, and that would spoil me."

When he put it like this, you saw how it was, and you aimed very carefully at the balloon, and fired.

"Ow!" said Pooh.

"Did I miss?" you asked.

"You didn't exactly miss," said Pooh, "but you missed the balloon."

"I'm so sorry," you said, and you fired again, and this time you hit the balloon, and the air came slowly out, and Winnie-the-Pooh floated down to the ground.

But his arms were so stiff from holding on to the string of the balloon all that time that they stayed up straight in the air for more than a week, and whenever a fly came and settled on his nose he had to blow it off. And I think—but I am not sure—that that is why he was always called Pooh.







Wednesday, March 22, 2023

Plagiarized Winnie the Pooh: The Dark Cloud

 




You and Pooh went out with the blue balloon. You didn't bring anything else with you feeling it would detract from the balloon. And Winnie the Pooh went to a muddy place and started rolling around in the muck so he would look like a small dark cloud to bees. Then, holding onto the blue balloon together, you walked over to, and under the tree, and there you let go. But Winnie the Pooh didn't.

 Winnie the pooh lightly floated up the tree, nearly to the top, and stayed there, maybe twenty feet away from the trunk.

"Yippee!" You shouted.

"Isn't this splendid?" Pooh called. "Do I look like a dark cloud?"

"You look more like a bear." You said. But you felt that was a little harsh, so you added "Like a dark bear? Holding a balloon?"

"Not like a dark cloud in front of a clear blue sky?"

"Not. As. Such." You said, like it was a difficult reply when really it was quite straightforward.

"Perhaps it looks different from up here, especially if you're moving around like a bee.

You tried looking blurry at Pooh, but he just looked like Pooh, but blurry, and muddy.

Everyone fell quiet, except the bees. The wind wasn't blowing and so Pooh floated in the sky without going anywhere. He could see honey, he could even smell honey, he could almost taste honey, but he had no way to get to the honey.

"Hallo." Pooh called down softly.

"Hallo." You called back.

"I think the bees suspect something." Pooh called in a big whisper.

"What do they suspect?"

"They just seem suspicious."

"I mean, they might think..." You suggested.

"That would not be so good." Replied Winnie the Pooh sadly.

There was some more buzzing-only silence.

"Hallo." Pooh called again.

"Yes." You said.

"Do you have an umbrella at home?" Pooh asked.

"I think I might." You said, though you would be the one to know for sure.

"I was hoping you could bring it here and open it up. Then you could walk around back and forth under it, every once in a while looking up at me and saying 'Oy, it looks like it might start raining any second now.' I think this might help persuade the bees."

"Silly old Bear!" You laughed, but only to yourself because you were terribly fond of Winnie the Pooh. Then you went home for your umbrella thinking "Maybe I should say 'tut tut it looks like rain' instead of 'oy'." But then you decided to stick with Pooh's original request, because it didn't seem right to change the original.






























Well, you both went out with the blue balloon, and you took your gun with you, just in case, as you always did, and Winnie-the-Pooh went to a very muddy place that he knew of, and rolled and rolled until he was black all over; and then, when the balloon was blown up as big as big, and you and Pooh were both holding on to the string, you let go suddenly, and Pooh Bear floated gracefully up into the sky, and stayed there—level with the top of the tree and about twenty feet away from it.



"Hooray!" you shouted.

"Isn't that fine?" shouted Winnie-the-Pooh down to you. "What do I look like?"

"You look like a Bear holding on to a balloon," you said.

"Not," said Pooh anxiously, "—not like a small black cloud in a blue sky?"

"Not very much."

"Ah, well, perhaps from up here it looks different. And, as I say, you never can tell with bees."

There was no wind to blow him nearer to the tree, so there he stayed. He could see the honey, he could smell the honey, but he couldn't quite reach the honey.

After a little while he called down to you.

"Christopher Robin!" he said in a loud whisper.

"Hallo!"

"I think the bees suspect something!"

"What sort of thing?"

"I don't know. But something tells me that they're suspicious!"



"Perhaps they think that you're after their honey."

"It may be that. You never can tell with bees."

There was another little silence, and then he called down to you again.

"Christopher Robin!"

"Yes?"

"Have you an umbrella in your house?"

"I think so."

"I wish you would bring it out here, and walk up and down with it, and look up at me every now and then, and say 'Tut-tut, it looks like rain.' I think, if you did that, it would help the deception which we are practising on these bees."

Well, you laughed to yourself, "Silly old Bear!" but you didn't say it aloud because you were so fond of him, and you went home for your umbrella.



















Monday, March 20, 2023

The balloon part of the plagiarized Winnie the Pooh

 








Winnie the Pooh knocked on your door but it didn't make a lot of noise. So he knocked harder, but maybe your door is kind of soft?

You answered it anyway because you had a feeling.

"Good morning." Winnie the Pooh said politely.

"Good morning Winnie the Pooh." You said.

"Do you have a balloon?" Winnie the Pooh asked.

"A balloon?"

"Mmm. I was walking along, on my way to see if you had a balloon, and I had a thought. I wondered all of the sudden if maybe you had a balloon. It might be the sort of thing you would have and so I wondered while I was walking to see if you did."

"What would you like a balloon for?" You enquired, just being curious, and not judgmental in any way.

Winnie the Pooh looked around very carefully, and up and down just to make sure, and then behind you, and then behind him, and then he whispered a little louder than he meant to: "Honey."

"I don't think you can get honey with a balloon." You said.

"Yes." Pooh said. "But I think I can."

Funnily enough you had been at a party at your friend Piglet's house and they happened to have balloons at the party. You had had a big green balloon and one of Rabbit's relations was given a blue balloon, but he was maybe too little for a party, and after he fell asleep someone carried him home and you ended up with the blue balloon too.

"Would you like a green balloon or a blue balloon?" You asked Pooh.

He sat down and put his head in his paws and started on some careful thinking.

"It's like this:" He said. "When you're going after honey with a balloon it's better if the bees don't see you. A green balloon will blend in with the tree and they might not notice you, but the blue balloon can blend in with the sky and so they might not notice you either. So there are clever things about both balloons."

"The green balloon is on my ceiling and I can't reach it." You said.

"I like the blue balloon much better too." Winnie the Pooh said. "I can look like a dark cloud hanging under it."

So you gave Winnie the Pooh the blue balloon. 












"Good morning, Christopher Robin," he said.

"Good morning, Winnie-ther-Pooh," said you.

"I wonder if you've got such a thing as a balloon about you?"

"A balloon?"

"Yes, I just said to myself coming along: 'I wonder if Christopher Robin has such a thing as a balloon about him?' I just said it to myself, thinking of balloons, and wondering."

"What do you want a balloon for?" you said.

Winnie-the-Pooh looked round to see that nobody was listening, put his paw to his mouth, and said in a deep whisper: "Honey!"

"But you don't get honey with balloons!"

"I do," said Pooh.

Well, it just happened that you had been to a party the day before at the house of your friend Piglet, and you had balloons at the party. You had had a big green balloon; and one of Rabbit's relations had had a big blue one, and had left it behind, being really too young to go to a party at all; and so you had brought the green one and the blue one home with you.

"Which one would you like?" you asked Pooh.

He put his head between his paws and thought very carefully.

"It's like this," he said. "When you go after honey with a balloon, the great thing is not to let the bees know you're coming. Now, if you have a green balloon, they might think you were only part of the tree, and not notice you, and, if you have a blue balloon, they might think you were only part of the sky, and not notice you, and the question is: Which is most likely?"

"Wouldn't they notice you underneath the balloon?" you asked.

"They might or they might not," said Winnie-the-Pooh. "You never can tell with bees." He thought for a moment and said: "I shall try to look like a small black cloud. That will deceive them."



"Then you had better have the blue balloon," you said; and so it was decided.








Saturday, March 18, 2023

The Plagiarized Winnie the Pooh part 2



Once upon a time, very long ago, or maybe, like, last Thursday, Winnie the Pooh lived in a forest under the C.

("Was the forest in the ocean?" You ask, trying to work it out.

"Oh, no, I said it wrong. He lived under the "C", which was in a circle and hung over his door.

"Is this why you couldn't tell us this story until now?"

"Have you studied copyright law?" I ask, impressed.

"Winnie the Pooh has." You say.

"Then we can move right along.")


One day Winnie the Pooh was walking in the forest, and he came to an open place, and there was a big oak tree in the middle of the open place. At the top of the tree he heard a buzzing. 

He was sure buzzing meant something. It meant an important animal, but he couldn't think which. So he decided to list all the animals: Aardvark, Alligator, Antelope, Anteater, Arithmetic, Armadillo.

That seemed like enough for the "A" animals. So he decided to start on the "B's"

"B's? Or bees." Pooh wondered.

Then he needed a think so bad that he had to sit on the ground and put his head in his paws. 

"You can't buzz without bees." Winnie the Pooh thought significantly. 

Then: "You can't be a bee without buzzing."

And after a while: "And if you're being a bee, besides buzzing, you make honey."

The thinking was going really good! So Pooh said:

"If you're making honey, some of it might be for me."

This made him get up and say "There really isn't any reason I can think of to make honey and not have any for me." So he climbed the tree.


He climbed and climbed and climbed and started singing a song, which you might know, but if you did know it you'll need to make a new tune for it now. Although you'd also have to do that if you didn't know the song. And never mind all that because I will now sing it for you with my own tune:

Isn't it a funny

How a bear likes honey,

Buzz, buzz, buzz,

I wonder why he does?


But as long as this song was. And no matter how many times he sang it. He was still not at the top of the tree. So he climbed further, and further, and further. Which is when he thought of a new song.

It's really rather funny how if bears were bees,

They'd build their nests at the bottom of trees,

And if bees were alligators,

They'd use elevators,

But alligators, bees, or bears,

I'm tired of all these stairs.


He was tired of all the climbing, which may have affected his lyrics at this point. But he was almost there. If he just stood on this branch.

Crack.

"Oh bother." Said Pooh in a hurt voice. Or maybe a preparing for hurt voice. And then he fell ten feet to the branch below him.

"Maybe I..." And he fell another ten feet to another branch and forgot what he was going to say. He'd almost thought of a new thing to say when he fell twenty feet and landed on a new branch.

He then fell onto another branch, but wasn't there long enough to say anything. Then another. Then another that he remembered slightly from on the way up, but that somehow didn't seem very important at that particular moment. 

"It all comes from." He said, and fell through two branches and did two somersaults with a twist that would have been very nice if he meant to do it, and then landed in a gorse bush. "Liking honey so much." He concluded.

So he crawled out of the bush with prickles in his nose and found he still liked honey just as much as he ever did. So he started to think again.

And he thought of you.


("Me?" You ask, a little thrilled at having come into the story, which you forgot you were promised would happen while you were worrying about the bear falling down a tree.

"Yes, it was you."

Which is a lot to take in because you have found traditionally books are about other people, which was always okay, but maybe a little unfair that it was all the time.)


So Winnie the Pooh went round to your house, which was in another part of the woods, and behind a green door.





























 Once upon a time, a very long time ago now, about last Friday, Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a forest all by himself under the name of Sanders.



("What does 'under the name' mean?" asked Christopher Robin.

"It means he had the name over the door in gold letters, and lived under it."

"Winnie-the-Pooh wasn't quite sure," said Christopher Robin.

"Now I am," said a growly voice.

"Then I will go on," said I.)

One day when he was out walking, he came to an open place in the middle of the forest, and in the middle of this place was a large oak-tree, and, from the top of the tree, there came a loud buzzing-noise.



Winnie-the-Pooh sat down at the foot of the tree, put his head between his paws and began to think.

First of all he said to himself: "That buzzing-noise means something. You don't get a buzzing-noise like that, just buzzing and buzzing, without its meaning something. If there's a buzzing-noise, somebody's making a buzzing-noise, and the only reason for making a buzzing-noise that I know of is because you're a bee."

Then he thought another long time, and said: "And the only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey."

And then he got up, and said: "And the only reason for making honey is so as I can eat it." So he began to climb the tree.



He climbed and he climbed and he climbed, and as he climbed he sang a little song to himself. It went like this:

Isn't it funny
How a bear likes honey?
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
I wonder why he does?

Then he climbed a little further ... and a little further ... and then just a little further. By that time he had thought of another song.

It's a very funny thought that, if Bears were Bees,
They'd build their nests at the bottom of trees.
And that being so (if the Bees were Bears),
We shouldn't have to climb up all these stairs.

He was getting rather tired by this time, so that is why he sang a Complaining Song. He was nearly there now, and if he just stood on that branch ...

Crack!

"Oh, help!" said Pooh, as he dropped ten feet on the branch below him.



"If only I hadn't——" he said, as he bounced twenty feet on to the next branch.

"You see, what I meant to do," he explained, as he turned head-over-heels, and crashed on to another branch thirty feet below, "what I meant to do——"

"Of course, it was rather——" he admitted, as he slithered very quickly through the next six branches.

"It all comes, I suppose," he decided, as he said good-bye to the last branch, spun round three times, and flew gracefully into a gorse-bush, "it all comes of liking honey so much. Oh, help!"

He crawled out of the gorse-bush, brushed the prickles from his nose, and began to think again. And the first person he thought of was Christopher Robin.



("Was that me?" said Christopher Robin in an awed voice, hardly daring to believe it.

"That was you."

Christopher Robin said nothing, but his eyes got larger and larger, and his face got pinker and pinker.)

So Winnie-the-Pooh went round to his friend Christopher Robin, who lived behind a green door in another part of the forest.