CHAPTER ONE In Which a House Is Built at Pooh Corner for Eeyore ONE DAY WHEN POOH BEAR had nothing else to do, he thought he would do something, so he went round to Piglet''s house to see what Piglet was doing. It was still snowing as he stumped over the white forest track, and he expected to find Piglet warming his toes in front of his fire, but to his surprise he saw that the door was open, and the more he looked inside, the more Piglet wasn''t there. "He''s out," said Pooh sadly. "That''s what it is. He''s not in. I shall have to go on a fast thinking walk by myself. Bother!" But first he thought that he would knock very loudly just to make quite sure. and while he waited for Piglet not to answer, he jumped up and down to keep warm, and a hum came suddenly into his head, which seemed to him a good hum, such as is hummed hopefully to others.
The more it snows (Tiddely pom), The more it goes (Tiddely pom), The more it goes (Tiddely pom), On snowing. And nobody knows (Tiddely pom), How cold my toes (Tiddely pom), How cold my toes (Tiddely pom), Are growing. "So what I''ll do," said Pooh, "is I''ll do this: I''ll just go home first and see what the time is, and perhaps I''ll put a muffler round my neck, and then I''ll go and see Eeyore and sing it to him." He hurried back to his own house; and his mind was so busy on the way with the hum that he was getting ready for Eeyore that when he suddenly saw Piglet sitting in his best armchair, he could only stand there rubbing his head and wondering whose house he was in. "Hello, Piglet," he said. "I thought you were out." "No," said Piglet, "it''s you who were out, Pooh." "So it was," said Pooh.
"I knew one of us was." He looked up at his clock, which had stopped at five minutes to eleven some weeks ago. "Nearly eleven o''clock," said Pooh happily. "You''re just in time for a little smackerel of something." And he put his head into the cupboard. "And then we''ll go out, Piglet, and sing my song to Eeyore." "Which song, Pooh?" "The one we''re going to sing to Eeyore," explained Pooh. The clock was still saying five minutes to eleven when Pooh and Piglet set out on their way half an hour later.
The wind had dropped, and the snow, tired of rushing round in circles trying to catch up to itself, now fluttered gently down until it found a place on which to rest, and sometimes the place was Pooh''s nose and sometimes it wasn''t, and in a little while Piglet was wearing a white muffler round his neck and feeling more snowy behind the ears than he had ever felt before. "Pooh," he said at last, and a little timidly, because he didn''t want Pooh to think he was giving in, "I was just wondering. How would it be if we went home now and practiced your song and then sang it to Eeyore tomorrow--or--or the next day, when we happen to see him?" "That''s a very good idea, Piglet," said Pooh. "We''ll practice it now as we go along. But it''s no good going home to practice it, because it''s a special outdoor song which has to be sung in the snow." "Are you sure?" asked Piglet anxiously. "Well, you''ll see, Piglet, when you listen. Because this is how it begins.
The more it snows, tiddely pom --" "Tiddely what?" said Piglet. "Pom," said Pooh. "I put that in to make it more hummy. The more it goes, tiddely pom, the more --" "Didn''t you say ''snows''?" "Yes, but that was before ." "Before the ''tiddely pom''?" "It was a different ''tiddely pom,''" said Pooh, feeling rather muddled now. "I''ll sing it to you properly and then you''ll see." So he sang it again. The more it SNOWS--tiddely pom, The more it GOES--tiddely pom, The more it GOES--tiddely pom, On Snowing.
And nobody KNOWS--tiddely pom, How cold my TOES--tiddely pom, How cold my TOES--tiddely pom, Are Growing. He sang it like that, which is much the best way of singing it, and when he had finished, he waited for Piglet to say that, of all the outdoor hums for snowy weather he had ever heard, this was the best. And, after thinking the matter over carefully, Piglet said solemnly, "Pooh, it isn''t the toes so much as the ears ." By this time they were getting near Eeyore''s gloomy place, which was where he lived, and as it was still very snowy behind Piglet''s ears, and he was getting tired of it, they turned into a little pinewood and sat down on the gate which led into it. They were out of the snow now, but it was very cold, and to keep themselves warm they sang Pooh''s song right through six times, Piglet doing the "tiddely poms" and Pooh doing the rest of it, and both of them thumping on the top of the gate with pieces of stick at the proper places. And in a little while they felt much warmer and were able to talk again. "I''ve been thinking," said Pooh, "and what I''ve been thinking is this: I''ve been thinking about Eeyore." "What about Eeyore?" "Well, poor Eeyore has nowhere to live.
" "Nor he has," said Piglet. " You have a house, Piglet, and I have a house, and they are very good houses. And Christopher Robin has a house, and Owl and Kanga and Rabbit have houses, and even Rabbit''s friends and relations have houses or somethings, but poor Eeyore has nothing. So what I''ve been thinking is: let''s build him a house." "That," said Piglet, "is a grand idea. Where shall we build it?" "We will build it here," said Pooh, "just by this wood, out of the wind, because this is where I thought of it. And we will call this Pooh Corner. And we will build an Eeyore house with sticks at Pooh Corner for Eeyore.
" "There was a heap of sticks on the other side of the wood," said Piglet. "I saw them. Lots and lots. All piled up." "Thank you, Piglet," said Pooh. "What you have just said will be a great help to us, and because of it I could call this place Pooh and Piglet Corner if ''Pooh Corner'' didn''t sound better, which it does, being smaller and more like a corner. Come along." So they got down off the gate and went round to the other side of the wood to fetch the sticks.
Christopher Robin had spent the morning indoors going to Africa and back, and he had just gotten off the boat and was wondering what it was like outside, when who should come knocking at the door but Eeyore. "Hello, Eeyore," said Christopher Robin as he opened the door and came out. "How are you ?" "It''s snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily. "So it is." " And freezing." "Is it?" "Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven''t had an earthquake lately." "What''s the matter, Eeyore?" "Nothing, Christopher Robin.
Nothing important. I suppose you haven''t seen a house or whatnot anywhere about?" "What sort of a house?" "Just a house." "Who lives there?" "I do. At least I thought I did. But I suppose I don''t. After all, we can''t all have houses." "But, Eeyore, I didn''t know. I always thought--" "I don''t know how it is, Christopher Robin, but what with all this snow and one thing and another, not to mention icicles and suchlike, it isn''t so hot in my field about three o''clock in the morning as some people think it is.
It isn''t close, if you know what I mean--not so as to be uncomfortable. It isn''t stuffy. In fact, Christopher Robin," he went on in a loud whisper, "quite-between-ourselves-and-don''t-tell-anybody: it''s cold." "Oh, Eeyore!" "And I said to myself: the others will be sorry if I''m getting myself all cold. They haven''t got brains, any of them, only gray fluff that''s blown into their heads by mistake, and they don''t think, b.