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.
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,
