I Knew When I Met You An

To Her- Hand In Hand We Come Christopher Robin And I To Lay This Book In Your Lap. Say You're Surprised? Say You Like It? Say It's Just What You Wanted? Because It's Yours- Because We Love You.

Pooh Hasn't Much Brain, But He Never Comes To Any Harm. He Does Silly Things And They Turn Out Right. There's Owl. Owl Hasn't Exactly Got Brain, But He Knows Things. He Would Know The Right Thing To Do When Surrounded By Water. There's Rabbit. He Hasn't Learnt In Books, But He Can Always Think Of A Clever Plan. There's Kanga. She Isn't Clever, Kanga Isn't, But She Would Be So Anxious About Roo That She Would Do A Good Thing To Do Without Thinking About It. And Then There's Eeyore. And Eeyore Is So Miserable Anyhow That He Wouldn't Mind About This.

I Suppose That Every One Of Us Hopes Secretly For Immortality; To Leave, I Mean, A Name Behind Him Which Will Live Forever In This World, Whatever He May Be Doing, Himself, In The Next.

But [pooh] Couldn't Sleep. The More He Tried To Sleep The More He Couldn't. He Tried Counting Sheep, Which Is Sometimes A Good Way Of Getting To Sleep, And, As That Was No Good, He Tried Counting Heffalumps. And That Was Worse. Because Every Heffalump That He Counted Was Making Straight For A Pot Of Pooh's Honey, And Eating It All. For Some Minutes He Lay There Miserably, But When The Five Hundred And Eighty-seventh Heffalump Was Licking Its Jaws, And Saying To Itself, "very Good Honey This, I Don't Know When I've Tasted Better," Pooh Could Bear It No Longer.

I Did Know Once, Only I've Sort Of Forgotten.