Winnie-the-Pooh - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 In which Eor has a birthday and gets two presents. Eor, the old gray donkey, stood by the side of the stream and looked at himself in the water. Pathetic, he said. That's what it is, pathetic. He turned and walked slowly down the stream for twenty yards, splashed across it, and walked slowly back on the other side. And he looked at himself in the water again. As I thought, he said, no better from this side, but nobody minds, nobody cares. Pathetic, that's what it is. There was a crackling noise in the bracken behind him, and out came Poo. Good morning, Eor, said Poo. Good morning, Poo Bear, said Eor gloomily. If it is a good morning, he said, which I doubt, said he. Why? What's the matter? Nothing, Poo Bear, nothing. We can all, and some of us don't. That's all there is to it. Can all what, said Poo, rubbing his nose? Gayety, song and dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush. Oh, said Poo, he thought for a long time, and then asked, what mulberry bush is that? Bonhommie went on Eor gloomily. French word meaning bonhommie, he explained. I'm not complaining, but there it is. Poo sat down on a large stone and tried to think this out. It sounded to him like a riddle, and he was never much good at riddles, being a bear of very little brain. So he sang, coddle-stun pie instead. Coddle-stun, coddle-stun, coddle-stun pie. A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly. Ask me a riddle, and I reply, coddle-stun, coddle-stun, coddle-stun pie. That was the first verse. When he had finished it, Eor didn't actually say that he didn't like it. So Poo very kindly sang the second verse to him. Coddle-stun, coddle-stun, coddle-stun pie. A fish can't whistle, and neither can I. Ask me a riddle, and I will reply, coddle-stun, coddle-stun, coddle-stun pie. Eor still said nothing at all, so Poo hummed the third verse quietly to himself. Coddle-stun, coddle-stun, coddle-stun pie. Why does a chicken? I don't know why. Ask me a riddle, and I will reply, coddle-stun, coddle-stun, coddle-stun pie. That's right, said Eor, sing. Um-tee-tiddly um-tee-two. Here we go gathering, nuts in May. Enjoy yourself. I am, said Poo. Some can, said Eor. Why, what's the matter? Is anything the matter? You seem so sad, Eor. Sad? Why should I be sad? It's my birthday, the happiest day of the year. Your birthday, said Poo, in great surprise. Of course it is, can't you see? Look at all the presents I have had. He waved a foot from side to side. Look at the birthday cake, candles, and pink sugar. Poo looked first to the right, and then to the left. Present, said Poo. Birthday cake, said Poo. Where? Can't you see them? No, said Poo. Neither can I, said Eor. Joke, he explained, ha-ha. Poo scratched his head, being a little puzzled by all this. But is it really your birthday, he asked? It is. Oh, well, many happy returns of the day, Eor. And many happy returns to you, Poo Bear. But it isn't my birthday. No, it's mine. But you said many happy returns. Well, why not? You don't always want to be miserable on my birthday, do you? Oh, I see, said Poo. It's bad enough, said Eor, almost breaking down, being miserable myself. What with no presents and no cake and no candles and no proper notice taken of me at all. But if everybody else is going to be miserable too, this was too much for Poo. Stay there, he called to Eor, as he turned and hurried back home as quick as he could, for he felt that he must get poor Eor a present of some sort at once, and he could always think of a proper one afterwards. Outside his house he found Piglet, jumping up and down, trying to reach the knocker. Hello, Piglet, he said. Hello, Poo, said Piglet. What are you trying to do? I was trying to reach the knocker, said Piglet. I just came round. Let me do it for you, said Poo kindly. So he reached up and knocked at the door. I have just seen Eor, he began, and poor Eor is in a very sad condition, because it's his birthday, and nobody has taken any notice of it. And he's very gloomy, you know what Eor is, and there he was. And what a long time whoever lives here is, answering this door. And he knocked again. But Poo, said Piglet, it's your own house. Oh, said Poo, so it is, he said, well, let's go in. So when they went, the first thing Poo did was go to the cupboard to see if he had quite a small jar of honey left, and he had, so he took it down. I'm giving this to Eor, he explained, as a present. What are you going to give? Couldn't I give it to, said Piglet, from both of us? No, said Poo, that would not be a good plan. All right then, I'll give him a balloon. I've got one left for my party, I'll go and get it now, shall I? That Piglet is a very good idea. It is just what Eor wants to cheer him up. Nobody can be un-cheered with a balloon. So off Piglet trodded, and in the other direction went Poo with his jar of honey. It was a warm day, and he had a long way to go. He hadn't gone more than half way when a sort of funny feeling began to creep all over him. It began at the tip of his nose and trickled all through him, and out at the soles of his feet. It was just as if somebody inside him were saying, now then, Poo, time for a little something. Dear, dear, said Poo, I didn't know it was as late as that. So he sat down and took the top off his jar of honey. Lucky I brought this with me, he thought. Many a bear going out on a warm day like this would never have thought of bringing a little something with him. He began to eat. Now let me see, he thought, as he took his last lick of the inside of the jar. Where was I going? Ah, yes, Eor, he got up slowly. And then suddenly he remembered, he had eaten Eor's birthday present. Bother, said Poo, what shall I do? I must give him something. For a little while he couldn't think of anything. Then he thought, well, it's a very nice pot, even if there's no honey in it. And if I washed it clean and got somebody to write a happy birthday on it, Eor could keep things in it, which might be useful. So as he was just passing the 100 acre wood, he went inside to call on Owl, who lived there. Good morning, Owl, he said. Good morning, Poo, said Owl. Many happy returns of Eor's birthday, said Poo. Oh, is that what it is? What are you giving him, Owl? What are you giving him, Poo? I'm giving him a useful pot to keep things in. And I wanted to ask you, is this it, said Owl, taking it out of Poo's paw? Yes, and I wanted to ask you, somebody has been keeping honey in it, said Owl. You can keep anything in it, said Poo, earnestly. It's very useful like that. And I wanted to ask you, you ought to write a happy birthday on it. That was what I wanted to ask you, said Poo, because my spelling is wobbly. It's good spelling, but it wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places. Would you write a happy birthday on it for me? It's a nice pot, said Owl, looking at it all round. Couldn't I give it to you from both of us? No, said Poo, that would not be a good plan. Now I'll just wash it first, and then you can write on it. Well, he washed the pot out and dried it, while Owl licked the end of his pencil, and wondered how to spell birthday. Can you read, Poo, he asked a little anxiously. There's a notice about knocking and ringing outside my door, which Christopher Robin wrote. Could you read it? Christopher Robin told me what it said, and then I could. Well, I'll tell you what this says, and then you'll be able to. So Owl wrote, and this is what he wrote. Hippie-pappy birth-doth, thus-duh, birth-dee. Poo looked on admiringly. I'm just saying a happy birthday, said Owl carelessly. It's a nice long one, said Poo, very much impressed by it. Well, actually, of course, I'm saying a very happy birthday would love from Poo. Naturally, it takes a good deal of pencil to say a long thing like that. Oh, I see, said Poo. While all this was happening, Piglet had gone back to his own house to get Eor's balloon. He held it very tightly against himself so that it shouldn't blow away, and he ran as fast as he could so as to get to Eor before Poo did, for he thought that he would like to be the first one to give a present, just as if he had thought of it without being told by anybody. And running along and thinking how pleased Eor would be, he didn't look where he was going, and suddenly he put his foot in a rabbit hole and fell down flat on his face. Bang! Piglet lay there, wondering what had happened. At first, he thought that the whole world had blown up, and then he thought that perhaps only the forest part of it had. And then he thought that perhaps only he had, and he was now alone in the moon or somewhere, and would never see Christopher Robin or Poo or Eor again. And then he thought, well, even if I'm in the moon, I needn't be faced downwards all the time. So he got cautiously up and looked about him. He was still in the forest. Well, that's funny, he thought. I wonder what that bang was. I couldn't have made such a noise just falling down. And where's my balloon? And what's that small piece of damp rag doing? It was the balloon. Oh, dear, said Piglet. Oh, dear, oh, dear, dear, dear. Well, it's too late now. I can't go back, and I have another balloon. And perhaps Eor doesn't like balloons so very much. So he trotted on, rather sadly now, and down he came to the side of the stream where Eor was and called out to him. Good morning, Eor, shouted Piglet. Good morning, little Piglet, said Eor. If it is a good morning, he said, which I doubt, said he. Not that it matters, he said. Many happy returns of the day, said Piglet, having now got closer. Eor stopped looking at himself in the stream and turned to stare at Piglet. Just say that again, he said. Many hap- wait a moment. Balancing on three legs, he began to bring his fourth leg very cautiously up to his ear. I did this yesterday, he explained, as he fell down for the third time. It's quite easy. It's so as I can hear better. There, that's done it. Now then, what were you saying? He pushed his ear forward with his hoof. Many happy returns of the day, said Piglet again. Meaning me? Of course, Eor. My birthday? Yes, me having a real birthday. Yes, Eor, and I've brought you a present. Eor took down his right hoof from his right ear, turned round, and with great difficulty put up his left hoof. I must have that in the other ear, he said. Now then, a present, said Piglet very loudly. Meaning me again? Yes, my birthday still. Of course, Eor. Me going on having a real birthday. Yes, Eor, and I brought you a balloon. Balloons, said Eor. You did say balloon. One of those big colored things you blow up. Gady song and dance, here we are, and there we are. Yes, but I'm afraid, I'm very sorry, Eor, but when I was running along to bring it to you, I fell down. Dear, dear, how unlucky. You ran too fast, I expect. You didn't hurt yourself, little Piglet. No, but I, Eor, I burst the balloon. There's a very long silence. My balloon, said Eor at last, Piglet nodded. My birthday balloon? Yes, Eor, said Piglet sniffing a little. Here it is, with many happy returns of the day. And he gave Eor the small piece of damp rag. Is this it, said Eor, a little surprised, Piglet nodded. My present? Piglet nodded again. The balloon? Yes. Thank you, Piglet, said Eor. You don't mind me asking, he went on, but what color was this balloon when it was a balloon? Red, I just wondered. Red, he murmured to himself. My favorite color. How big was it? About as big as me. I just wondered, about as big as Piglet, he said to himself, sadly. My favorite size, well, well. Piglet felt very miserable and didn't know what to say. He was still opening his mouth to begin something, and then deciding that it wasn't any good saying that, when he heard a shout from the other side of the river, and there was poo. Many happy returns of the day called out poo, forgetting that he had said it already. Thank you, poo, I'm having them, said Eor gloomily. I've brought you a little present, said poo, excitedly. I've had it, said Eor. Who had now splashed across the stream to Eor, and Piglet was sitting a little way off, his head in his paws snuffling to himself. It's a useful pot, said poo, here it is. And it's got a very happy birthday would love from poo written on it. That's what all that writing is, and it's for putting things in there. When Eor saw the pot, he became quite excited. Why, he said, I believe my balloon will just go into that pot. No, Eor, said poo, balloons are much too big to go into pots. What you do with a balloon is you hold the balloon. Not mine, said Eor proudly. Look, Piglet. And as Piglet looks sorrowfully round, Eor picked the balloon up with his teeth, and placed it carefully in the pot. Picked it out and put it on the ground, and then picked it up again, and put it carefully back. So it does, said poo, it goes in. So it does, said Piglet, and it comes out. Doesn't it, said Eor, it goes in and out like anything. I'm very glad, said poo, happily, that I thought of giving you a useful pot to put things in. I'm very glad, said Piglet, happily, that I thought of giving you something to put in a useful pot. But Eor wasn't listening. He was taking the balloon out and putting it back again as happy as could be. And didn't I give him anything? asked Christopher Robin sadly. Of course you did, I said. You gave him, don't you remember a little, a little, I gave him a box of paints to paint things with. That was it. Why didn't I give it to him in the morning? You were so busy getting his party ready for him. He had a cake with icing on the top and three candles in his name and pink sugar and. Yes, I remember, said Christopher Robin.