When Pooh saw what it was, he nearly fell down, he was so pleased. It was
a Special Pencil Case. There were pencils in it marked “B” for Bear, and pencils
marked “HB “ for Helping Bear, and pencils marked “BB” for Brave Bear. There
was a knife for sharpening the pencils, and indiarubber for rubbing out anything
which you had spelt wrong, and a ruler for ruling lines for the words to walk
on, and inches marked on the ruler in case you wanted to know how many inches
anything was, and Blue Pencils and Red Pencils and Green Pencils for saying
special things in blue and red and green. And all these lovely things were in
little pockets of their own in a Special Case which shut with a click when you
clicked it. And they were all for Pooh.
“Oh!” said Pooh.
“Oh, Pooh!” said everybody else except Eeyore.
“Thank-you,” growled Pooh.
But Eeyore was saying to himself, “This writing business. Pencils and what-not.
Over-rated, if you ask me. Silly stuff. Nothing in it.”
Later on, when they had all said “Good-bye” and “Thank-you” to Christopher
Robin, Pooh and Piglet walked home thoughtfully together in the golden evening,
and for a long time they were silent.
“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what's the
first thing you say to yourself?”
“What's for breakfast?” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?”
“I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting to-day?” said Piglet. Pooh
“It's the same thing,” he said.
“And what did happen?” asked Christopher Robin.
“I don't know.”
“Could you think, and tell me and Pooh some time?”
“If you wanted it very much.”
“Pooh does,” said Christopher Robin.
He gave a deep sigh, picked his bear up by the leg and walked off to the
door, trailing Winnie-the-Pooh behind him. At the door he turned and said, “Coming
to see me have my bath?”
“I might,” I said.
“Was Pooh's pencil case any better than mine?”
“It was just the same,” I said.
He nodded and went out... and in a moment I heard Winnie-the-Pooh—bump, bump,
bump—going up the stairs behind him.