"Oh, help!" said Pooh, as he dropped ten feet on the branch below him.
"If only I hadn't-" he said, as he bounced twenty feet on to the next branch.
"You see, what I meant to do," he explained, as he turned head-over-heels, and crashed on to another branch thirty feet below, "what I meant to do-"
"Of course, it was rather-" he admitted, as he slithered very quickly through
the next six branches.
"It all comes, I suppose," he decided, as he said good-bye to the last branch, spun round three times, and flew gracefully into a gorse-bush, "it all comes of liking honey so much. Oh, help!"
He crawled out of the gorse-bush, brushed the prickles from his nose, and began to think again. And the first person he thought of was Christopher Robin.
("Was that me?" said Christopher Robin in an awed voice, hardly daring to
believe it.
"That was you."Christopher Robin said nothing, but his eyes got larger and larger, and his face
got pinker and pinker.)
So Winnie-the-Pooh went round to his friend Christopher Robin, who lived behind
a green door in another part of the Forest.
"Good morning, Christopher Robin," he said.
"Good morning, Winnie-ther-Pooh," said you.
"I wonder if you've got such a thing as a balloon about you?"
"A balloon?"
"Yes, I just said to myself coming along: 'I wonder if Christopher Robin has such a thing as a balloon about him?' I just said it to myself, thinking of balloons, and wondering."