path: root/70516-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 70516 ***




                            NOW WE ARE SIX

                          BY A.A. MILNE WITH
                   DECORATIONS BY ERNEST H. SHEPARD

              NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON & CO., INC.

                   NOW WE ARE SIX, COPYRIGHT, 1927,
                      BY E. P. DUTTON & CO., INC.
                          ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
                           PRINTED IN U.S.A.

               First Printing               Sept., 1927
               Tenth Printing               Sept., 1927
               Twentieth Printing           Sept., 1927
               Thirtieth Printing           Sept., 1927
               Thirty-third Printing        Sept., 1927
               Thirty-fifth Printing         Nov., 1927
               Fortieth Printing             Nov., 1927
               Forty-fifth Printing          Nov., 1927
               Fiftieth Printing             Nov., 1927
               Fifty-fifth Printing          Dec., 1927
               Sixtieth Printing             Dec., 1927
               Sixty-fifth Printing          Dec., 1927
               Seventieth Printing           Dec., 1927
               Seventy-fourth Printing       Dec., 1928
               Seventy-eighth Printing      Sept., 1929
               Eightieth Printing             May, 1930
               Eighty-fourth Printing         May, 1931
               Eighty-sixth Printing         July, 1932
               Eighty-ninth Printing         July, 1933

               New Edition                   Aug., 1935

               Ninety-first Printing         Aug., 1935
               Ninety-fourth Printing        Aug., 1935




                                  TO
                            ANNE DARLINGTON
                           NOW SHE IS SEVEN
                                  AND
                            BECAUSE SHE IS
                                  SO
                                SPESHAL




                            NOW WE ARE SIX




                             INTRODUCTION


When you are reciting poetry, which is a thing we never do, you find
sometimes, just as you are beginning, that Uncle John is still telling
Aunt Rose that if he can't find his spectacles he won't be able to hear
properly, and does she know where they are; and by the time everybody
has stopped looking for them, you are at the last verse, and in another
minute they will be saying, "Thank-you, thank-you," without really
knowing what it was all about. So, next time, you are more careful;
and, just before you begin you say, "_Er-h'r'm!_" very loudly,
which means, "Now then, here we are"; and everybody stops talking and
looks at you: which is what you want. So then you get in the way of
saying it whenever you are asked to recite ... and sometimes it is just
as well, and sometimes it isn't.... And by and by you find yourself
saying it without thinking. Well, this bit which I am writing now,
called Introduction, is really the _er-h'r'm_ of the book, and I
have put it in, partly so as not to take you by surprise, and partly
because I can't do without it now. There are some very clever writers
who say that it is quite easy not to have an _er-h'r'm_, but I
don't agree with them. I think it is much easier not to have all the
rest of the book.

What I want to explain in the Introduction is this. We have been nearly
three years writing this book. We began it when we were very young ...
and now we are six. So, of course, bits of it seem rather baby-ish to
us, almost as if they had slipped out of some other book by mistake.
On page whatever-it-is there is a thing which is simply three-ish, and
when we read it to ourselves just now we said, "Well, well, well," and
turned over rather quickly. So we want you to know that the name of the
book doesn't mean that this is us being six all the time, but that it
is about as far as we've got at present, and we half think of stopping
there.

                                                               A. A. M.

P.S.--Pooh wants us to say that he thought it was a different book; and
he hopes you won't mind, but he walked through it one day, looking for
his friend Piglet, and sat down on some of the pages by mistake.




                               CONTENTS


                           SOLITUDE

                           KING JOHN'S CHRISTMAS

                           BUSY

                           SNEEZLES

                           BINKER

                           CHERRY STONES

                           THE KNIGHT WHOSE ARMOUR DIDN'T SQUEAK

                           BUTTERCUP DAYS

                           THE CHARCOAL BURNER

                           US TWO

                           THE OLD SAILOR

                           THE ENGINEER

                           JOURNEY'S END

                           FURRY BEAR

                           FORGIVEN

                           THE EMPEROR'S RHYME

                           KNIGHT-IN-ARMOUR

                           COME OUT WITH ME

                           DOWN BY THE POND

                           THE LITTLE BLACK HEN

                           THE FRIEND

                           THE GOOD LITTLE GIRL

                           A THOUGHT

                           KING HILARY AND THE BEGGARMAN

                           SWING SONG

                           EXPLAINED

                           TWICE TIMES

                           THE MORNING WALK

                           CRADLE SONG

                           WAITING AT THE WINDOW

                           PINKLE PURR

                           WIND ON THE HILL

                           FORGOTTEN

                           IN THE DARK

                           THE END




                            NOW WE ARE SIX




                               SOLITUDE


    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.




                         KING JOHN'S CHRISTMAS


    King John was not a good man--
      He had his little ways.
    And sometimes no one spoke to him
      For days and days and days.
    And men who came across him,
      When walking in the town,
    Gave him a supercilious stare,
    Or passed with noses in the air--
    And bad King John stood dumbly there,
      Blushing beneath his crown.

    King John was not a good man,
      And no good friends had he.
    He stayed in every afternoon...
      But no one came to tea.
    And, round about December,
      The cards upon his shelf
    Which wished him lots of Christmas cheer,
    And fortune in the coming year,
    Were never from his near and dear,
      But only from himself.

    King John was not a good man,
      Yet had his hopes and fears.
    They'd given him no present now
      For years and years and years.
    But every year at Christmas,
      While minstrels stood about,
    Collecting tribute from the young
    For all the songs they might have sung,
    He stole away upstairs and hung
      A hopeful stocking out.

    King John was not a good man,
      He lived his life aloof;
    Alone he thought a message out
      While climbing up the roof.
    He wrote it down and propped it
      Against the chimney stack:
    "TO ALL AND SUNDRY--NEAR AND FAR--
    F. CHRISTMAS IN PARTICULAR."
    And signed it not "Johannes R."
      But very humbly, "JACK."

    "I want some crackers,
      And I want some candy;
    I think a box of chocolates
      Would come in handy;
    I don't mind oranges,
      I do like nuts!
    And I SHOULD like a pocket-knife
      That really cuts.
    And, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at all,
    Bring me a big, red india-rubber ball!"

    King John was not a good man--
      He wrote this message out,
    And gat him to his room again,
      Descending by the spout.
    And all that night he lay there,
      A prey to hopes and fears.
    "I think that's him a-coming now,"
    (Anxiety bedewed his brow.)
    "He'll bring one present, anyhow--
      The first I've had for years."

    "Forget about the crackers,
      And forget about the candy;
    I'm sure a box of chocolates
      Would never come in handy;
    I don't like oranges,
      I don't want nuts,
    And I HAVE got a pocket-knife
      That almost cuts.
    But, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at all,
    Bring me a big, red india-rubber ball!"

    King John was not a good man--
      Next morning when the sun
    Rose up to tell a waiting world
      That Christmas had begun,
    And people seized their stockings,
      And opened them with glee,
    And crackers, toys and games appeared,
    And lips with sticky sweets were smeared,
    King John said grimly: "As I feared,
      Nothing again for me!"

    "I did want crackers,
      And I did want candy;
    I know a box of chocolates
      Would come in handy;
    I do love oranges,
      I did want nuts.
    I haven't got a pocket-knife--
      Not one that cuts.
    And, oh! if Father Christmas had loved me at all,
    He would have brought a big, red india-rubber ball!"

    King John stood by the window,
      And frowned to see below
    The happy bands of boys and girls
      All playing in the snow.
    A while he stood there watching,
      And envying them all...
    When through the window big and red
    There hurtled by his royal head,
    And bounced and fell upon the bed,
      An india-rubber ball!

    AND OH, FATHER CHRISTMAS,
    MY BLESSINGS ON YOU FALL
        FOR BRINGING HIM
        A BIG, RED,
        INDIA-RUBBER
        BALL!




                                 BUSY


    I think I am a Muffin Man. I haven't got a bell,
    I haven't got the muffin things that muffin people sell.
    Perhaps I am a Postman. No, I think I am a Tram.
    I'm feeling rather funny and I don't know _what_ I am--

                 BUT

            _Round_ about
            And _round_ about
            And _round_ about I go--
            All round the table,
            The table in the nursery--
            _Round_ about
            And _round_ about
            And _round_ about I go;

    I think I am a Traveller escaping from a Bear;
    I think I am an Elephant,
    Behind another Elephant
    Behind _another_ Elephant who isn't really there....

                 SO

            _Round_ about
            And _round_ about
            And _round_ about and _round_ about
            And _round_ about
            And _round_ about
                I go.

    I think I am a Ticket Man who's selling tickets--please,
    I think I am a Doctor who is visiting a Sneeze;
    Perhaps I'm just a Nanny who is walking with a pram
    I'm feeling rather funny and I don't know _what_ I am--

                 BUT

            _Round_ about
            And _round_ about
            And _round_ about I go--
            All around the table,
            The table in the nursery--
            _Round_ about
            And _round_ about
            And _round_ about I go;

    I think I am a Puppy, so I'm hanging out my tongue;
    I think I am a Camel who
    Is looking for a Camel who
    Is looking for a Camel who is looking for its Young....

                 SO

            _Round_ about
            And _round_ about
            And _round_ about and _round_ about
            And _round_ about
            And _round_ about
                I go.




                               SNEEZLES


    Christopher Robin
    Had wheezles
    And sneezles,
    They bundled him
    Into
    His bed.
    They gave him what goes
    With a cold in the nose,
    And some more for a cold
    In the head.
    They wondered
    If wheezles
    Could turn
    Into measles,
    If sneezles
    Would turn
    Into mumps;
    They examined his chest
    For a rash,
    And the rest
    Of his body for swellings and lumps.
    They sent for some doctors
    In sneezles
    And wheezles
    To tell them what ought
    To be done.

    All sorts and conditions
    Of famous physicians
    Came hurrying round
    At a run.
    They all made a note
    Of the state of his throat,
    They asked if he suffered from thirst;
    They asked if the sneezles
    Came _after_ the wheezles,
    Or if the first sneezle
    Came first.
    They said, "If you teazle
    A sneezle
    Or wheezle,
    A measle
    May easily grow.
    But humour or pleazle
    The wheezle
    Or sneezle,
    The measle
    Will certainly go."
    They expounded the reazles
    For sneezles
    And wheezles,
    The manner of measles
    When new.
    They said "If he freezles
    In draughts and in breezles,
    Then PHTHEEZLES
    May even ensue."

           *       *       *       *       *

    Christopher Robin
    Got up in the morning,
    The sneezles had vanished away.
    And the look in his eye
    Seemed to say to the sky,
    "_Now, how to amuse them to-day?_"




                                BINKER


    Binker--what I call him--is a secret of my own,
    And Binker is the reason why I never feel alone.
    Playing in the nursery, sitting on the stair,
    Whatever I am busy at, Binker will be there.

        Oh, Daddy is clever, he's a clever sort of man,
        And Mummy is the best since the world began,
        And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan--
                      But they can't
                      See
                      Binker.

    Binker's always talking, 'cos I'm teaching him to speak:
    He sometimes likes to do it in a funny sort of squeak,
    And he sometimes likes to do it in a hoodling sort of roar ...
    And I have to do it for him 'cos his throat is rather sore.

        Oh, Daddy is clever, he's a clever sort of man,
        And Mummy knows all that anybody can,
        And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan--
                      But they don't
                      Know
                      Binker.

    Binker's brave as lions when we're running in the park;
    Binker's brave as tigers when we're lying in the dark;
    Binker's brave as elephants. He never, never cries ...
    Except (like other people) when the soap gets in his eyes.

        Oh, Daddy is Daddy, he's a Daddy sort of man,
        And Mummy is as Mummy as anybody can,
        And Nanny is Nanny, and I call her Nan ...
                      But they're not
                      Like
                      Binker.

    Binker isn't greedy, but he does like things to eat,
    So I have to say to people when they're giving me a sweet,
    "Oh, Binker wants a chocolate, so could you give me two?"
    And then I eat it for him, 'cos his teeth are rather new.

    Well, I'm very fond of Daddy, but he hasn't time to play,
    And I'm very fond of Mummy, but she sometimes goes away,
    And I'm often cross with Nanny when she wants to brush my hair ...
    But Binker's always Binker, and is certain to be there.




                             CHERRY STONES


        _Tinker_, _Tailor_,
        _Soldier_, _Sailor_,
        _Rich Man_, _Poor Man_,
        _Ploughboy_, _Thief_--

    And what about a Cowboy,
    Policeman, Jailer,
    Engine-driver,
    Or Pirate Chief?
    What about a Postman--or a Keeper at the Zoo?
    What about the Circus Man who lets the people through?
    And the man who takes the pennies for the roundabouts and swings,
    Or the man who plays the organ, and the other man who sings?
    What about a Conjuror with rabbits in his pockets?
    What about a Rocket Man who's always making rockets?
    Oh, there's such a lot of things to do and such a lot to be
    That there's always lots of cherries on my little cherry tree!




                 THE KNIGHT WHOSE ARMOUR DIDN'T SQUEAK


    Of all the Knights in Appledore
      The wisest was Sir Thomas Tom.
    He multiplied as far as four,
      And knew what nine was taken from
    To make eleven. He could write
    A letter to another Knight.

    No other Knight in all the land
      Could do the things which he could do.
    Not only did he understand
      The way to polish swords, but knew
    What remedy a Knight should seek
    Whose armour had begun to squeak.

    And, if he didn't fight too much,
      It wasn't that he did not care
    For blips and buffetings and such,
      But felt that it was hardly fair
    To risk, by frequent injuries,
    A brain as delicate as his.

    His castle (Castle Tom) was set
      Conveniently on a hill;
    And daily, when it wasn't wet,
      He paced the battlements until
    Some smaller Knight who couldn't swim
    Should reach the moat and challenge him.

    Or sometimes, feeling full of fight,
      He hurried out to scour the plain;
    And, seeing some approaching Knight,
      He either hurried home again,
    Or hid; and, when the foe was past,
    Blew a triumphant trumpet-blast.

    One day when good Sir Thomas Tom
      Was resting in a handy ditch,
    The noises he was hiding from,
      Though very much the noises which
    He'd always hidden from before,
    Seemed somehow less.... Or was it more?

    The trotting horse, the trumpet's blast,
      The whistling sword, the armour's squeak,
    These, and especially the last,
      Had clattered by him all the week.
    Was this the same, or was it not?
    _Something was different._ But what?

    Sir Thomas raised a cautious ear
      And listened as Sir Hugh went by,
    And suddenly he seemed to hear
      (Or not to hear) the reason why
    This stranger made a nicer sound
    Than other Knights who lived around.

    Sir Thomas watched the way he went--
      His rage was such he couldn't speak,
    For years they'd called him down in Kent
      The Knight Whose Armour Didn't Squeak!
    Yet here and now he looked upon
    _Another_ Knight whose squeak had gone.

    He rushed to where his horse was tied;
      He spurred it to a rapid trot.
    The only fear he felt inside
      About his enemy was not
    "How sharp his sword?" "How stout his heart?"
    But "Has he got too long a start?"

    Sir Hugh was singing, hand on hip,
      When something sudden came along,
    And caught him a terrific blip
      Right in the middle of his song.
    "A thunderstorm!" he thought. "Of course!"
    And toppled gently off his horse.

    Then said the good Sir Thomas Tom,
      Dismounting with a friendly air,
    "Allow me to extract you from
      The heavy armour that you wear.
    At times like these the bravest Knight
    May find his armour much too tight."

    A hundred yards or so beyond
      The scene of brave Sir Hugh's defeat
    Sir Thomas found a useful pond,
      And, careful not to wet his feet,
    He brought the armour to the brink,
    And flung it in ... and watched it sink.

    So ever after, more and more,
      The men of Kent would proudly speak
    Of Thomas Tom of Appledore,
      "The Knight Whose Armour Didn't Squeak"
    Whilst Hugh, the Knight who gave him best,
    Squeaks just as badly as the rest.




                            BUTTERCUP DAYS


    Where is Anne?
      Head above the buttercups,
    Walking by the stream,
      Down among the buttercups.
    Where is Anne?
    Walking with her man,
    Lost in a dream,
      Lost among the buttercups.

    What has she got in that little brown head?
    Wonderful thoughts which can never be said.
    What has she got in that firm little fist of hers?
    Somebody's thumb, and it feels like Christopher's.

    Where is Anne?
    Close to her man.
    Brown head, gold head,
      In and out the buttercups.




                          THE CHARCOAL-BURNER


    The charcoal-burner has tales to tell.
    He lives in the Forest,
    Alone in the Forest;
    He sits in the Forest,
    Alone in the Forest.
    And the sun comes slanting between the trees,
    And rabbits come up, and they give him good-morning,
    And rabbits come up and say, "Beautiful morning"....
    And the moon swings clear of the tall black trees,
    And owls fly over and wish him good-night,
    Quietly over to wish him good-night....

    And he sits and thinks of the things they know,
    He and the Forest, alone together--
    The springs that come and the summers that go,
    Autumn dew on bracken and heather,
    The drip of the Forest beneath the snow....
    All the things they have seen,
    All the things they have heard:
    An April sky swept clean and the song of a bird....
    Oh, the charcoal-burner has tales to tell!
    And he lives in the Forest and knows us well.




                                US TWO


    Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
    There's always Pooh and Me.
    Whatever I do, he wants to do,
    "Where are you going to-day?" says Pooh:
    "Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
    Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
    "Let's go together," says Pooh.

    "What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
    ("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
    "I _think_ it ought to be twenty-two."
    "Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
    "It wasn't an easy sum to do,
    But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
    "That's what it is," said Pooh.

    "Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
    "Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
    We crossed the river and found a few--
    "Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
    "As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
    That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
    "That's what they are," said Pooh.

    "Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
    "That's right," said Pooh to Me.
    "_I'm_ not afraid," I said to Pooh,
    And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
    Silly old dragons!"--and off they flew.
    "I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
    "I'm _never_ afraid with you."

    So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
    There's always Pooh and Me.
    "What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
    "If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
    It isn't much fun for One, but Two
    Can stick together," says Pooh, says he.
    "That's how it is," says Pooh.




                            THE OLD SAILOR


    There was once an old sailor my grandfather knew
    Who had so many things which he wanted to do
    That, whenever he thought it was time to begin,
    He couldn't because of the state he was in.

    He was shipwrecked, and lived on an island for weeks,
    And he wanted a hat, and he wanted some breeks;
    And he wanted some nets, or a line and some hooks
    For the turtles and things which you read of in books.

    And, thinking of this, he remembered a thing
    Which he wanted (for water) and that was a spring;
    And he thought that to talk to he'd look for, and keep
    (If he found it) a goat, or some chickens and sheep.

    Then, because of the weather, he wanted a hut
    With a door (to come in by) which opened and shut
    (With a jerk, which was useful if snakes were about),
    And a very strong lock to keep savages out.

    He began on the fish-hooks, and when he'd begun
    He decided he couldn't because of the sun.
    So he knew what he ought to begin with, and that
    Was to find, or to make, a large sun-stopping hat.

    He was making the hat with some leaves from a tree,
    When he thought, "I'm as hot as a body can be,
    And I've nothing to take for my terrible thirst;
    So I'll look for a spring, and I'll look for it _first_."

    Then he thought as he started, "Oh, dear and oh, dear!
    I'll be lonely to-morrow with nobody here!"
    So he made in his note-book a couple of notes:
    "_I must first find some chickens_" and "_No, I mean goats._"

    He had just seen a goat (which he knew by the shape)
    When he thought, "But I must have a boat for escape.
    But a boat means a sail, which means needles and thread;
    So I'd better sit down and make needles instead."

    He began on a needle, but thought as he worked,
    That, if this was an island where savages lurked,
    Sitting safe in his hut he'd have nothing to fear,
    Whereas now they might suddenly breathe in his ear!

    So he thought of his hut ... and he thought of his boat,
    And his hat and his breeks, and his chickens and goat,
    And the hooks (for his food) and the spring (for his thirst)....
    But he _never_ could think which he ought to do first.

    And so in the end he did nothing at all,
    But basked on the shingle wrapped up in a shawl.
    And I think it was dreadful the way he behaved--
    He did nothing but basking until he was saved!




                             THE ENGINEER


    Let it rain!
    Who cares?
    I've a train
    Upstairs,
    With a brake
    Which I make
    From a string
    Sort of thing,
    Which works
    In jerks,
    'Cos it drops
    In the spring,
    Which stops
    With the string,
    And the wheels
    All stick
    So quick
    That it feels
    Like a thing
    That you make
    With a brake,
    Not string....

    So that's what I make,
    When the day's all wet.
    It's a good sort of brake
    But it hasn't worked yet.




                             JOURNEY'S END


    _Christopher, Christopher, where are you going, Christopher Robin?_
          "Just up to the top of the hill,
          Upping and upping until
          I am right on the top of the hill,"
              Said Christopher Robin.

    _Christopher, Christopher, why are you going, Christopher Robin?_
          _There's nothing to see, so when
          You've got to the top, what then?_
          "Just down to the bottom again,"
              Said Christopher Robin.




                              FURRY BEAR


    If I were a bear,
      And a big bear too,
    I shouldn't much care
      If it froze or snew;
    I shouldn't much mind
      If it snowed or friz--
    I'd be all fur-lined
      With a coat like his!

    For I'd have fur boots and a brown fur wrap,
    And brown fur knickers and a big fur cap.
    I'd have a fur muffle-ruff to cover my jaws,
    And brown fur mittens on my big brown paws.
    With a big brown furry-down up to my head,
    I'd sleep all the winter in a big fur bed.




                               FORGIVEN


    I found a little beetle, so that Beetle was his name,
    And I called him Alexander and he answered just the same.
    I put him in a match-box, and I kept him all the day....
    And Nanny let my beetle out--
      Yes, Nanny let my beetle out--
               She went and let my beetle out--
                         And Beetle ran away.

    She said she didn't mean it, and I never said she did,
    She said she wanted matches and she just took off the lid,
    She said that she was sorry, but it's difficult to catch
    An excited sort of beetle you've mistaken for a match.

    She said that she was sorry, and I really mustn't mind,
    As there's lots and lots of beetles which she's certain we could find,
    If we looked about the garden for the holes where beetles hid--
    And we'd get another match-box and write BEETLE on the lid.

    We went to all the places which a beetle might be near,
    And we made the sort of noises which a beetle likes to hear,
    And I saw a kind of something, and I gave a sort of shout:
    "A beetle-house and Alexander Beetle coming out!"

    It was Alexander Beetle I'm as certain as can be
    And he had a sort of look as if he thought it must be ME,
    And he had a sort of look as if he thought he ought to say:
    "I'm very very sorry that I tried to run away."

    And Nanny's very sorry too for you-know-what-she-did,
    And she's writing ALEXANDER very blackly on the lid.
    So Nan and Me are friends, because it's difficult to catch
    An excited Alexander you've mistaken for a match.




                          THE EMPEROR'S RHYME


    The King of Peru
    (Who was Emperor too)
      Had a sort of a rhyme
        Which was useful to know,
    If he felt very shy
    When a stranger came by,
      Or they asked him the time
        When his watch didn't go;
    Or supposing he fell
    (By mistake) down a well,
      Or he tumbled when skating
        And sat on his hat,
    Or perhaps wasn't told,
    Till his porridge was cold,
      That his breakfast was waiting--
        Or something like that;
    Oh, whenever the Emperor
    Got in to a temper, or
      Felt himself sulky or sad,
    He would murmur and murmur,
    Until he felt firmer,
      This curious rhyme which he had:

    _Eight eights are sixty-four,
      Multiply by seven.
    When it's done,
    Carry one
      And take away eleven,
    Nine nines are eighty-one
      Multiply by three.
    If it's more,
    Carry four,
      And then it's time for tea._

    So whenever the Queen
    Took his armour to clean,
      And she didn't remember
        To use any starch;
    Or his birthday (in May)
    Was a horrible day,
      Being wet as November
        And windy as March;
    Or, if sitting in state
    With the Wise and the Great,
      He just happened to hiccup
        While signing his name,
    Or the Queen gave a cough,
    When his crown tumbled off
      As he bent down to pick up
        A pen for the same;
    Oh, whenever the Emperor
    Got into a temper, or
      Felt himself awkward and shy,
    He would whisper and whisper,
    Until he felt crisper,
      This odd little rhyme to the sky:

    _Eight eights are eighty-one;
      Multiply by seven.
    If it's more,
    Carry four,
      And take away eleven.
    Nine nines are sixty-four;
      Multiply by three.
    When it's done,
    Carry one,
      And then it's time for tea._




                           KNIGHT-IN-ARMOUR


    Whenever I'm a shining Knight,
    I buckle on my armour tight;
    And then I look about for things,
    Like Rushings-Out, and Rescuings,
    And Savings from the Dragon's Lair,
    And fighting all the Dragons there.
    And sometimes when our fights begin,
    I think I'll let the Dragons win....
    And then I think perhaps I won't,
    Because they're Dragons, and I don't.




                           COME OUT WITH ME


    _There's sun on the river and sun on the hill_....
    You can hear the sea if you stand quite still!
    There's eight new puppies at Roundabout Farm--
    And I saw an old sailor with only one arm!

              But every one says, "Run along!"
                (Run along, run along!)
      All of them say "Run along! I'm busy as can be."
                Every one says, "Run along,
                There's a little darling!"
      If I'm a little darling, why don't they run with me?

    _There's wind on the river and wind on the hill_....
    There's a dark dead water-wheel under the mill!
    I saw a fly which had just been drowned--
    And I know where a rabbit goes into the ground!

              But every one says, "Run along!"
                (Run along, run along!)
      All of them say "Yes, dear," and never notice me.
                Every one says, "Run along,
                There's a little darling!"
      If I'm a little darling, why won't they come and see?




                           DOWN BY THE POND


          _I'm fishing._
    Don't talk, anybody, don't come near!
    Can't you see that the fish might hear?
    He thinks I'm playing with a piece of string;
    He thinks I'm another sort of funny sort of thing,
          _But he doesn't know I'm fishing--
          He doesn't know I'm fishing._
            That's what I'm doing--
                Fishing.

          _No, I'm not, I'm newting._
    Don't cough, anybody, don't come by!
    Any small noise makes a newt feel shy.
    He thinks I'm a bush, or a new sort of tree;
    He thinks it's somebody, but doesn't think it's Me,
          _And he doesn't know I'm newting--
          No, he doesn't know I'm newting._
            That's what I'm doing--
                Newting.




                         THE LITTLE BLACK HEN


          Berryman and Baxter,
            Prettiboy and Penn
          And old Farmer Middleton
            Are five big men....
          And all of them were after
            The Little Black Hen.

          She ran quickly,
            They ran fast;
          Baxter was first, and
            Berryman was last.
          I sat and watched
            By the old plum-tree....
          She squawked through the hedge
            And she came to me.

          The Little Black Hen
            Said "Oh, it's you!"
          I said "Thank you,
            How do you do?
          And please will you tell me,
            Little Black Hen,
          What did they want,
            Those five big men?"

          The Little Black Hen
            She said to me:
          "They want me to lay them
            An egg for tea.
          If they were Emperors,
            If they were Kings,
          I'm much too busy
            To lay them things."

          "I'm not a King
            And I haven't a crown;
          I climb up trees,
            And I tumble down.
          I can shut one eye,
            I can count to ten,
          So lay me an egg, please,
            Little Black Hen."

          The Little Black Hen said,
            "What will you pay,
          If I lay you an egg
            For Easter Day?"

          "I'll give you a Please
            And a How-do-you-do,
          I'll show you the Bear
            Who lives in the Zoo,
          I'll show you the nettle-place
            On my leg,
          If you'll lay me a great big
            Eastery egg."

          The Little Black Hen
            Said "I don't care
          For a How-do-you-do
            Or a Big-brown-bear,
          But I'll lay you a beautiful
            Eastery egg,
          If you'll show me the nettle-place
            On your leg."

          I showed her the place
            Where I had my sting.
          She touched it gently
            With one black wing.
          "Nettles don't hurt
            If you count to ten.
          And now for the egg,"
            Said the Little Black Hen.

          When I wake up
            On Easter Day,
          I shall see my egg
            She's promised to lay.
          If I were Emperors,
            If I were Kings,
          It couldn't be fuller
            Of wonderful things.

          Berryman and Baxter,
            Prettiboy and Penn,
          And old Farmer Middleton
            Are five big men.
          All of them are wanting
            An egg for their tea,
    But the Little Black Hen is much too busy,
    The Little Black Hen is _much_ too busy,
    The Little Black Hen is MUCH too busy....
            _She's laying my egg for me!_




                              THE FRIEND


    There are lots and lots of people who are always asking things,
    Like Dates and Pounds-and-ounces and the names of funny Kings,
    And the answer's either Sixpence or A Hundred Inches Long,
    And I know they'll think me silly if I get the answer wrong.

    So Pooh and I go whispering, and Pooh looks very bright,
    And says, "Well, _I_ say sixpence, but I don't suppose I'm right,"
    And then it doesn't matter what the answer ought to be,
    'Cos if he's right, I'm Right, and if he's wrong, it isn't Me.




                         THE GOOD LITTLE GIRL


    It's funny how often they say to me, "Jane?
      "Have you been a _good_ girl?"
      "Have you been a _good_ girl?"
    And when they have said it, they say it again,
      "Have you been a _good_ girl?"
      "Have you been a _good_ girl?"

    I go to a party, I go out to tea,
    I go to an aunt for a week at the sea,
    I come back from school or from playing a game;
    Wherever I come from, it's always the same:
      "Well?
      Have you been a _good_ girl, Jane?"

    It's always the end of the loveliest day:
      "Have you been a _good_ girl?"
      "Have you been a _good_ girl?"
    I went to the Zoo, and they waited to say:
      "Have you been a _good_ girl?"
      "Have you been a _good_ girl?"

    Well, what did they think that I went there to do?
    And why should I want to be bad at the Zoo?
    _And should I be likely to say if I had?_
    So that's why it's funny of Mummy and Dad,
    This asking and asking, in case I was bad,
      "Well?
      Have you been a _good_ girl, Jane?"




                               A THOUGHT


    If I were John and John were Me,
    Then he'd be six and I'd be three.
    If John were Me and I were John,
    I shouldn't have these trousers on.




                     KING HILARY AND THE BEGGERMAN


    _Of Hilary the Great and Good
        They tell a tale at Christmas time
    I've often thought the story would
    Be prettier but just as good
    If almost anybody should
        Translate it into rime.
    So I have done the best I can
    For lack of some more learned man._

        Good King Hilary
        Said to his Chancellor
        (Proud Lord Willoughby,
        Lord High Chancellor):
        "Run to the wicket-gate
        Quickly, quickly,
        Run to the wicket gate
            And see who is knocking.
        It may be a rich man,
        Sea-borne from Araby,
        Bringing me peacocks,
        Emeralds and ivory;
        It may be a poor man,
    Travel-worn and weary,
    Bringing me oranges
        To put in my stocking."

    Proud Lord Willoughby,
    Lord High Chancellor,
        Laughed both loud and free:[1]
    "I've served Your Majesty, man to man,
    Since first Your Majesty's reign began,
    And I've often walked, but I never, never ran,
        Never, never, never," quoth he.

[Footnote 1: Haw! Haw! Haw!]

        Good King Hilary
        Said to his Chancellor
        (Proud Lord Willoughby,
        Lord High Chancellor):
        "Walk to the wicket-gate
    Quickly, quickly,
    Walk to the wicket-gate
        And see who is knocking.

    It may be a captain,
    Hawk-nosed, bearded,
    Bringing me gold-dust,
    Spices, and sandalwood:
    It may be a scullion,
    Care-free, whistling,
    Bringing me sugar-plums
        To put in my stocking."

    Proud Lord Willoughby,
    Lord High Chancellor,
        Laughed both loud and free:
    "I've served in the Palace since I was four,
    And I'll serve in the Palace a-many years more,
    And I've opened a window, but never a door,
        Never, never, never," quoth he.

        Good King Hilary
        Said to his Chancellor
        (Proud Lord Willoughby,
        Lord High Chancellor):
        "Open the window
    Quickly, quickly,
    Open the window
        And see who is knocking.

    It may be a waiting-maid,
    Apple-cheeked, dimpled,
    Sent by her mistress
    To bring me greeting;
    It may be children,
    Anxious, whispering,
    Bringing me cobnuts,
        To put in my stocking."

    Proud Lord Willoughby,
    Lord High Chancellor,
        Laughed both loud and free:
    "I'll serve Your Majesty till I die--
    As Lord Chancellor, not as spy
    To peep from lattices; no, not I,
        Never, never, never," quoth he.

    Good King Hilary
    Looked at his Chancellor
    (Proud Lord Willoughby,
    Lord High Chancellor):
    He said no word
    To his stiff-set Chancellor,
    But ran to the wicket-gate
        To see who was knocking.
    He found no rich man
    Trading from Araby;
    He found no captain,
    Blue-eyed, weather-tanned;
    He found no waiting-maid
    Sent by her mistress;
    But only a beggarman
        With one red stocking.

    Good King Hilary
    Looked at the beggarman,
        And laughed him three times three;
    And he turned that beggarman round about:
    "Your thews are strong, and your arm is stout;
    Come, throw me a Lord High Chancellor out,
        And take his place," quoth he.

    Of Hilary the Good and Great
    Old wives at Christmas time relate
    This tale, which points, at any rate,
        Two morals on the way.
    The first: "_Whatever Fortune brings,
    Don't be afraid of doing things._"
    (Especially, of course, for Kings.)
        It also seems to say
    (But not so wisely): "_He who begs
    With one red stocking on his legs
    Will be, as sure as eggs are eggs,
        A Chancellor some day._"




                              SWING SONG


    Here I go up in my swing
      Ever so high.
    I am the King of the fields, and the King
      Of the town.
    I am the King of the earth, and the King
      Of the sky.
    Here I go up in my swing....
      Now I go down.




                               EXPLAINED


    Elizabeth Ann
    Said to her Nan:
    "Please will you tell me how God began?
    _Somebody_ must have made Him. So
    Who could it be, 'cos I want to know?"
    And Nurse said, "_Well!_"
    And Ann said, "Well?
    I know you know, and I wish you'd tell."
    And Nurse took pins from her mouth, and said,
    "Now then, darling, it's time for bed."

    Elizabeth Ann
    Had a wonderful plan:
    She would run round the world till she found a man
    Who knew _exactly_ how God began.
    She got up early, she dressed, and ran
    Trying to find an Important Man.
    She ran to London and knocked at the door
    Of the Lord High Doodelum's coach-and-four.
    "Please, sir (if there's anyone in),
    However-and-ever did God begin?"

    The Lord High Doodelum lay in bed,
    But out of the window, large and red,
    Came the Lord High Coachman's face instead.
    And the Lord High Coachman laughed and said:
    "Well, what put _that_ in your quaint little head?"

    Elizabeth Ann went home again
    And took from the ottoman Jennifer Jane.
    "Jenniferjane," said Elizabeth Ann,
    "Tell me _at once_ how God began."
    And Jane, who didn't much care for speaking,
    Replied in her usual way by squeaking.

    What did it mean? Well, to be quite candid,
    _I_ don't know, but Elizabeth Ann did.
    Elizabeth Ann said softly, "Oh!
    Thank you, Jennifer. Now I know."




                              TWICE TIMES


    There were Two little Bears who lived in a Wood,
    And one of them was Bad and the other was Good.
    Good Bear learnt his Twice Times One--
    But Bad Bear left all his buttons undone.

    They lived in a Tree when the weather was hot,
    And one of them was Good, and the other was Not.
    Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Two--
    But Bad Bear's thingummies were worn right through.

    They lived in a Cave when the weather was cold,
    And they Did, and they Didn't Do, what they were told.
    Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Three--
    But Bad Bear _never_ had his hand-ker-chee.

    They lived in the Wood with a Kind Old Aunt,
    And one said "_Yes'm_," and the other said "_Shan't!_"
    Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Four--
    But Bad Bear's knicketies were terrible tore.

    And then quite suddenly (just like Us)
    One got Better and the other got Wuss.
    Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Three--
    But Bad Bear coughed _in his hand-ker-chee_!

    Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Two--
    But Bad Bear's thingummies looked like new.
    Good Bear muddled his Twice Times One--
    But Bad Bear _never_ left his buttons undone.

    There may be a Moral, though some say not;
    I think there's a moral, though I don't know what.
    But if one gets better, as the other gets wuss,
    These Two Little Bears are just like Us.
    For Christopher remembers up to Twice Times Ten....
    But _I_ keep forgetting where I've put my pen.[2]

[Footnote 2: _So I have had to write this one in pencil._]




                           THE MORNING WALK


    When Anne and I go out a walk,
    We hold each other's hand and talk
    Of all the things we mean to do
    When Anne and I are forty-two.

    And when we've thought about a thing,
    Like bowling hoops or bicycling,
    Or falling down on Anne's balloon,
    We do it in the afternoon.




                              CRADLE SONG


    O Timothy Tim
      Has ten pink toes,
      And ten pink toes
    Has Timothy Tim.
    They go with him
      Wherever he goes,
      And wherever he goes
    They go with him.

    O Timothy Tim
      Has two blue eyes,
      And two blue eyes
    Has Timothy Tim.
    They cry with him
      Whenever he cries,
      And whenever he cries,
    They cry with him.

    O Timothy Tim
      Has one red head,
      And one red head
    Has Timothy Tim.
    It sleeps with him
      In Timothy's bed.
      Sleep well, red head
    Of Timothy Tim.




                         WAITING AT THE WINDOW


    These are my two drops of rain
    Waiting on the window-pane.

    I am waiting here to see
    Which the winning one will be.

    Both of them have different names.
    One is John and one is James.

    All the best and all the worst
    Comes from which of them is first.

    James has just begun to ooze.
    He's the one I want to lose.

    John is waiting to begin.
    He's the one I want to win.

    James is going slowly on.
    Something sort of sticks to John.

    John is moving off at last.
    James is going pretty fast.

    John is rushing down the pane.
    James is going slow again.

    James has met a sort of smear.
    John is getting very near.

    Is he going fast enough?
    (James has found a piece of fluff.)

    John has hurried quickly by.
    (James was talking to a fly.)

    John is there, and John has won!
    _Look! I told you! Here's the sun!_




                              PINKLE PURR


    Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
    A little black nothing of feet and fur;
    And by-and-by, when his eyes came through,
    He saw his mother, the big Tattoo.
    And all that he learned he learned from her.
    "I'll ask my mother," says Pinkle Purr.

    Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
    A ridiculous kitten with silky fur.
    And little black Pinkle grew and grew
    Till he got as big as the big Tattoo.
    And all that he did he did with her.
    "Two friends together," says Pinkle Purr.

    Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
    An adventurous cat in a coat of fur.
    And whenever he thought of a thing to do,
    He didn't much bother about Tattoo,
    For he knows its nothing to do with her,
    So "See you later," says Pinkle Purr.

    Tattoo is the mother of Pinkle Purr,
    An enormous leopard with coal-black fur.
    A little brown kitten that's nearly new
    Is now playing games with its big Tattoo....
    And Pink looks lazily down at her:
    "Dear little Tat," says Pinkle Purr.




                           WIND ON THE HILL


    No one can tell me,
      Nobody knows,
    Where the wind comes from,
      Where the wind goes.

    It's flying from somewhere
      As fast as it can,
    I couldn't keep up with it,
      Not if I ran.

    But if I stopped holding
      The string of my kite,
    It would blow with the wind
      For a day and a night.

    And then when I found it,
      Wherever it blew,
    I should know that the wind
      Had been going there too.

    So then I could tell them
      Where the wind goes....
    But where the wind comes from
      _Nobody_ knows.




                               FORGOTTEN


    Lords of the Nursery
      Wait in a row,
    Five on the high wall,
      And four on the low;
    Big Kings and Little Kings,
      Brown Bears and Black,
    All of them waiting
      Till John comes back.

    Some think that John boy
      Is lost in the wood,
    Some say he couldn't be,
      Some say he could.
    Some think that John boy
      Hides on the hill;
    Some say he won't come back,
      Some say he will.

    High was the sun, when
      John went away....
    Here they've been waiting
      All through the day;
    Big Bears and Little Bears,
      White Kings and Black,
    All of them waiting
      Till John comes back.

    Lords of the Nursery
      Looked down the hill,
    Some saw the sheep-fold,
      Some saw the mill;
    Some saw the roofs
      Of the little grey town....
    And their shadows grew long
      As the sun slipt down.

    Gold between the poplars
      An old moon shows;
    Silver up the star-way
      The full moon rose;
    Silver down the star-way
      The old moon crept....
    And, one by another,
      The grey fields slept.

    Lords of the Nursery
      Their still watch keep....
    They hear from the sheep-fold
      The rustle of sheep.
    A young bird twitters
      And hides its head;
    A little wind suddenly
      Breathes, and is dead.

    Slowly and slowly
      Dawns the new day....
    What's become of John boy?
      No one can say.
    Some think that John boy
      Is lost on the hill;
    Some say he won't come back,
      Some say he will.

    _What's become of John boy?
      Nothing at all,
    He played with his skipping rope,
      He played with his ball.
    He ran after butterflies,
      Blue ones and red;
    He did a hundred happy things--
      And then went to bed._




                              IN THE DARK


    I've had my supper,
      And _had_ my supper,
        And _HAD_ my supper and all;
    I've heard the story
      Of Cinderella,
        And how she went to the ball;
    I've cleaned my teeth,
      And I've said my prayers,
        And I've cleaned and said them right;
    And they've all of them been
      And kissed me lots,
        They've all of them said "Good-night."

    So--here I am in the dark alone,
      There's nobody here to see;
            I think to myself,
            I play to myself,
        And nobody knows what I say to myself;
    Here I am in the dark alone,
        What is it going to be?
    I can think whatever I like to think,
    I can play whatever I like to play,
    I can laugh whatever I like to laugh,
        There's nobody here but me.

    I'm talking to a rabbit ...
        I'm talking to the sun ...
    I think I am a hundred--
        I'm one.
    I'm lying in a forest ...
        I'm lying in a cave ...
    I'm talking to a Dragon ...
        I'm BRAVE.
    I'm lying on my left side ...
        I'm lying on my right ...
    I'll play a lot to-morrow ...
         .......
    I'll think a lot to-morrow ...
         .......
    I'll laugh ...
                a lot ...
                        to-morrow ...
                (_Heigh-ho!_)
                          Good-night.




                                THE END


              When I was One,
              I had just begun.

              When I was Two,
              I was nearly new.

              When I was Three,
              I was hardly Me.

              When I was Four,
              I was not much more.

              When I was Five,
              I was just alive.

    But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever.
    So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.


       *       *       *       *       *

                          NEW UNIFORM EDITION

These inimitable and imperishable Milne classics with the Shepard
drawings are now available, _for the first time_, in a new
edition, uniform with this volume.


                        WHEN WE WERE VERY YOUNG

The most popular book of child-verse of modern times.


                            NOW WE ARE SIX

A companion volume of verse to When We Were Very Young


                            WINNIE-THE-POOH

Pooh and Christopher Robin are among the most treasured characters of
story-land.


                       THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER

There just had to be another story about Christopher Robin and his
seven friends--Pooh, Piglet, Owl, Tigger, etc.


_Published by_ E. P. DUTTON & CO., INC.




                    OTHER BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS

                           _By_ A. A. MILNE


                     THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN VERSES

      Fully illustrated by E. H. SHEPARD, with 12 plates in color


                   THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN STORY BOOK

                     Illustrated by E. H. SHEPARD


                  THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN BIRTHDAY BOOK

                     Illustrated by E. H. SHEPARD


                     THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN READER

Collected by A. A. MILNE from his four books of poetry and prose,
including selections recommended by the New York City Board of
Education.


               SONG-BOOKS FROM THE POEMS OF A. A. MILNE

    With Music by H. FRASER-SIMSON and Decorations by E. H. SHEPARD

                            FOURTEEN SONGS
                      TEDDY BEAR AND OTHER SONGS
                      SONGS FROM "NOW WE ARE SIX"
                         THE KING'S BREAKFAST
                        MORE "VERY YOUNG" SONGS
                           THE HUMS OF POOH


*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 70516 ***