Alan Alexander Miln. The house at Pooh Corner -
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"That's the point."
Owl looked at the notice again. To one of his education
the reading of it was easy. "Gone out, Backson. Bisy,
Backson"-- just the sort of thing you'd expect to see on a
notice.
"It is quite clear what has happened, my dear Rabbit,"
he said. "Christopher Robin has gone out somewhere with
Backson. He and Backson are busy together. Have you seen a
Backson anywhere about in the Forest lately?"
"I don't know," said Rabbit. "That's what I came to ask
you. What are they like?"
"Well," said Owl, "the Spotted or Herbaceous Backson is
just a--"
"At least," he said, "it's really more of a----"
"Of course," he said, "it depends on the----"
"Well," said Owl, "the fact is," he said, "I don't know
what they're like," said Owl frankly.
"Thank you," said Rabbit. And he hurried off to see
Pooh.
Before he had gone very far he heard a noise. So he
stopped and listened. This was the noise.
NOISE, BY POOH
Oh, the butterflies are flying,
Now the winter days are dying,
And the primroses are trying
To be seen.
And the turtle-doves are cooing,
And the woods arc up and doing,
For the violets are blue-ing
In the green.
Oh, the honey-bees are gumming
On their little wings, and humming
That the summer, which is coming,
Will be fun.
And the cows are almost cooing,
And the turtle-doves are mooing,
Which is why a Pooh is poohing
In the sun.
For the spring is really springing;