“I just like to know,” said Pooh humbly. “So as I can say to myself: ‘I’ve got fourteen pots of honey left.’ Or fifteen, as the case may be. It’s sort of comforting.”

“Well, let’s call it sixteen,” said Rabbit. “What I came to say was: Have you seen Small anywhere about?”

“I don’t think so,” said Pooh. And then, after thinking a little more, he said: “Who is Small?”

“One of my friends-and-relations,” said Rabbit carelessly.

This didn’t help Pooh much, because Rabbit had so many friends-and-relations, and of such different sorts and sizes, that he didn’t know whether he ought to be looking for Small at the top of an oak-tree or in the petal of a buttercup.

“I haven’t seen anybody today,” said Pooh, “not so as to say ‘Hallo, Small,’ to. Did you want him for anything?”