Alan Alexander Miln. The house at Pooh Corner -
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saying, "It is!" and "It can't be!" and "It's really!" to each
other
"There!" said Eeyore proudly, stopping them outside
Piglet's house. "And the name on it, and everything!"
"Oh!" cried Christopher Robin, wondering whether to
laugh or what.
"Just the house for Owl. Don't you think so, little
Piglet?"
And then Piglet did a Noble Thing, and he did it in a
sort of dream, while he was thinking of all the wonderful words
Pooh had hummed about him.
"Yes, it's just the house for Owl," he said grandly.
"And I hope he'll be very happy in it." And then he gulped
twice, because he had been very happy in it himself.
"What do you think, Christopher Robin?" asked Eeyore a
little anxiously, feeling that something wasn't quite right.
Christopher Robin had a question to ask first, and he
was wondering how to ask it.
"Well," he said at last, "it's a very nice house, and
if your own house is blown down, you must go somewhere else,
mustn't you, Piglet? What would you do, if your house was blown
down?"
Before Piglet could think, Pooh answered for him.
"He'd come and live with me," said Pooh, "wouldn't you,
Piglet?"
Piglet squeezed his paw.
"Thank you, Pooh," he said, "I should love to."
CHRISTOPHER ROBIN was going away. Nobody knew why he was
going; nobody knew where he was going; indeed, nobody even knew
why he knew that Christopher Robin was going away. But somehow
or other everybody in the Forest felt that it was happening at
last. Even Smallest-of-all, a friend-and-relation of Rabbit's
