Alan Alexander Miln. The house at Pooh Corner -
70 >
he could see.
"Pooh," said Owl severely, "did you do that?"
"No," said Pooh humbly. "I don't think so."
"Then who did?"
"I think it was the wind," said Piglet. "I think your
house has blown down."
"Oh, is that it? I thought it was Pooh."
"No," said Pooh.
"If it was the wind," said Owl, considering the matter,
"then it wasn't Pooh's fault. No blame can be attached to him."
With these kind words he flew up to look at his new ceiling.
"Piglet!" called Pooh in a loud whisper.
Piglet leant down to him.
"Yes, Pooh?"
"What did he say was attached to me?"
"He said he didn't blame you."
"Oh! I thought he meant-- Oh, I see."
"Owl," said Piglet, "come down and help Pooh." Owl, who
was admiring his letter-box, flew down again. Together they
pushed and pulled at the arm-chair, and in a little while Pooh
came out from underneath, and was able to look round him again.
"Well!" said Owl. "This is a nice state of things!"
"What are we going to do, Pooh? Can you think of
anything?" asked Piglet.
"Well, I had just thought of something," said Pooh. "It
was just a little thing I thought of." And he began to sing:
I lay on my chest
And I thought it best
To pretend I was having an evening rest;
I lay on my tum
And I tried to hum
But nothing particular seemed to come.
My face was flat
On the floor, and that
Is all very well for an acrobat;
But it doesn't seem fair
To a Friendly Bear
To stiffen him out with a basket-chair
And a sort of sqoze