Alan Alexander Miln. The house at Pooh Corner -
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Eeyore gloomily.
Before Pooh could say: "Why Thursdays?" Christopher
Robin began to explain the sad story of Eeyore's Lost House.
And Pooh and Piglet listened, and their eyes seemed to get
bigger and bigger.
"Where did you say it was?" asked Pooh.
"Just here," said Eeyore.
"Made of sticks?"
"Yes."
"Oh!" said Piglet.
"What?" said Eeyore.
"I just said 'Oh!'" said Piglet nervously. And so as to
seem quite at ease he hummed Tiddely-pom once or twice in a
what-shall-we-do-now kind of way.
"You're sure it was a house?" said Pooh. "I mean,
you're sure the house was just here?"
"Of course I am," said Eeyore. And he murmured to
himself, "No brain at all, some of them."
"Why, what's the matter, Pooh?" asked Christopher
Robin.
"Well," said Pooh . . . "The fact is," said Pooh . . .
"Well, the fact is," said Pooh . . . "You see," said Pooh . . .
"It's like this," said Pooh, and something seemed to tell him
that he wasn't explaining very well, and he nudged Piglet
again.
"It's like this," said Piglet quickly.... "Only
warmer," he added after deep thought.
"What's warmer?"
"The other side of the wood, where Eeyore's house is."
"My house?" said Eeyore. "My house was here."
"No," said Piglet firmly. "The other side of the wood."
"Because of being warmer," said Pooh.
"But I ought to know?"
"Come and look," said Piglet simply, and he led the
way.
"There wouldn't be two houses," said Pooh. "Not so
close together."
They came round the corner, and there was Eeyore's
house, looking as comfy as anything.
"There you are," said Piglet.
"Inside as well as outside," said Pooh proudly.