It Was A Drowsy Summer

I Don’t Feel Very Much Like Pooh Today," Said Pooh. "there There," Said Piglet. "i’ll Bring You Tea And Honey Until You Do.

By The Time It Came To The Edge Of The Forest, The Stream Had Grown Up, So That It Was Almost A River, And, Being Grown-up, It Did Not Run And Jump And Sparkle Along As It Used To Do When It Was Younger, But Moved More Slowly. For It Knew Now Where It Was Going, And It Said To Itself, “there Is No Hurry. We Shall Get There Some Day.” But All The Little Streams Higher Up In The Forest Went This Way And That, Quickly, Eagerly, Having So Much To Find Out Before It Was Too Late.

In A Very Little Time They Got To The Corner Of The Field By The Side Of The Pine Wood Where Eeyore's House Wasn't Any Longer. 'there!' Said Eeyore. 'not A Stick Of It Left! Of Course, I've Still Got All This Snow To Do What I Like With. One Mustn't Complain.

But Piglet Is So Small That He Slips Into A Pocket, Where It Is Very Comfortable To Feel Him When You Are Not Quite Sure Whether Twice Seven Is Twelve Or Twenty-two.

I Have A House Where I Go, When There's Too Many People, I Have A House Where I Go Where No One Can Be; I Have A House Where I Go, Where Nobody Ever Says "no" Where No One Says Anything - So There Is No One But Me.