Alan Alexander Miln. The house at Pooh Corner -
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circles trying to catch itself up, 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 practised
your song, and then sang it to Eeyore to-morrow--or--or the
next day, when we happen to see him?"
"That's a very good idea, Piglet," said Pooh. "We'll
practise it now as we go along. But it's no good going home to
practise 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