“That’s just what I was going to say,” said Pooh. And then he added, “Perhaps he’s looking for a—for a—”
“A Spotted or Herbaceous Backson?”
“Yes,” said Pooh. “One of those. In case it isn’t.”
Rabbit looked at him severely.
“I don’t think you’re helping,” he said.
“No,” said Pooh. “I do try,” he added humbly.
Rabbit thanked him for trying, and said that he would now go and see Eeyore, and Pooh could walk with him if he liked. But Pooh, who felt another verse of his song coming on him, said he would wait for Piglet, goodbye, Rabbit; so Rabbit went off.
But, as it happened, it was Rabbit who saw Piglet first. Piglet had got up early that morning to pick himself a bunch of violets; and when he had picked them and put them in a pot in the middle of his house, it suddenly came over him that nobody had ever picked Eeyore a bunch of violets, and the more he thought of this, the more he thought how sad it was to be an Animal who had never had a bunch of violets picked for him. So he hurried out again, saying to himself, “Eeyore, Violets,” and then “Violets, Eeyore,” in case he forgot, because it was that sort of day, and he picked a large bunch and trotted along, smelling them, and feeling very happy, until he came to the place where Eeyore was.
“Oh, Eeyore,” began Piglet a little nervously, because Eeyore was busy.
Eeyore put out a paw and waved him away.
“Tomorrow,” said Eeyore. “Or the next day.”
Piglet came a little closer to see what it was. Eeyore had three sticks on the ground, and was looking at them. Two of the sticks were touching at one end, but not at the other, and the third stick was laid across them. Piglet thought that perhaps it was a Trap of some kind.
“Oh, Eeyore,” he began again, “just—”
“Is that little Piglet?” said Eeyore, still looking hard at his sticks.
“Yes, Eeyore, and I—”