The White House at Pooh Corner
One day Christopher Robin and Pooh and Piglet were talking of this and that, but mostly that, and Pooh was wondering whether or not it might be time for a Little Something, and then beginning to wonder if it would ever not be time, when Christopher Robin said, “I saw a Heffatrump the other day.”
“What was it doing?” asked Pooh.
“Oh, just lumping along,” said Christopher Robin. “I don’t think it saw me.”
“I saw one once,” said Piglet. “At least I think I did. Only perhaps I didn’t.”
“So didn’t I?” said Pooh, while asking himself what a Heffatrump was like.
When Christopher Robin had gone, Piglet and Pooh walked back through the Hundred Acre Wood. They talked of this and that, but mostly this, and then Piglet said: “Pooh, what is a Heffatrump?”
And Pooh said, “Piglet, that is a good question. I have—” And he thought for a moment. “I have been rumbinating on exactly that. And the person who can answer it, I think, is Owl.”
So they both went to see Owl, and they found him at home, looking extremely wise, and they asked him about the Heffatrump.
“The Heffatrump,” said Owl, after a few minutes, during which he closed his eyes, “lives in a Huff. At least, he does in warm weather. In winter he moves to a Snit.”
“And where might we find the Huff?” asked Pooh. “Or, for that matter, the Snit?”
“On the far side of the Great Pond,” said Owl. At this, Piglet gave a squeak of excitement, not unmixed with fear, because the Great Pond was on the western edge of the Hundred Acre Wood, and he had been there only once, and had been so overcome that he had run all the way home and jumped into bed.
“What’s it like on the far side?” asked Pooh.
“It has,” said Owl, drawing himself up and looking very grand, “a Constitution.”
“Bless you,” said Pooh, who thought that Owl had sneezed especially loudly. Then he asked: “What does it mean to have a Constant Ishoo?”
“It means,” Owl declared, “that you have the right to bear arms.”
Then there was a Silence. It went on a long time, because Pooh was wondering why anyone would want to write on a bear’s arms, and Piglet, who always had bare arms, was afraid that it might not be right.
Finally, Pooh said, “Can you catch a Heffatrump?”
Owl considered, and replied, “No, you cannot. If it falls into a trap, it just climbs out and carries on doing whatever it was doing. The secret to meeting a Heffatrump,” said Owl, “is Vasive Action.”
There was another Silence. Then Owl, remembering that Pooh was a Bear of Very Little Brain, and that Piglet’s brain was hardly there at all, explained: “You must build a Heffatrump Hide.”
“So that the Heffatrump can hide?” asked Pooh, who was so confused that he was starting to feel weak and in need of a Little Something, or maybe Something Not So Little After All.
“No, so that you can hide,” said Owl, “and wait for the Heffatrump to blow over.”
“Like a storm,” cried Piglet, in a voice that was slightly squeakier than he wanted it to be.
“Zackly,” said Owl, and closed his eyes.
Then Pooh and Piglet walked back home, and Pooh, without really knowing why, began to hum a Hum, like this:
When Piglet had heard the Hum, he said to Pooh, as if it didn’t matter either way, although it absolutely did: “Pooh, I don’t think that I care to meet a Heffatrump. Not for now. If you don’t mind.”
“Nor do I,” said Pooh, who was relieved that Piglet had said so first, and grateful, too. “But somebody should go. Somebody braver than us. Even braver, I mean.”
“Like Eeyore and Kanga,” said Piglet.
“Now that, Piglet, is a very good idea,” said Pooh. “We must ask them at once. After tea, that is, and supper, and a good night’s rest.”
Next day, after breakfast, and then a second breakfast, Pooh and Piglet went to find Kanga, and the three of them went to meet Eeyore.
“It has come to my attention,” said Pooh, wondering what It was and where It had come from, “that an Expotition is required, over the Great Pond. To hide from a Heffatrump.”
“I knew you’d ask,” said Eeyore. “Whenever there is something difficult to do, up goes the cry, ‘Ask Eeyore.’ Not that I mind, much. Is a boat involved? I expect it will sink, bit by bit. It usually does.”
“Nonsense,” said Kanga. “It will be an adventure. You will enjoy it.”
“I enjoyed something once,” said Eeyore. “It didn’t last.”
So they all set off for the Great Pond, and Kanga and Eeyore found a little boat, and got in. Pooh and Piglet watched them drift away, and Piglet felt impressed and scared and envious all at once, which was rather too much for him. So he ran home and jumped into bed.
It was not until four days later that Kanga and Eeyore returned from their Expotition. And, when they came to tell Pooh and Piglet all about it, they found Christopher Robin there, too. They talked of this and that, and mostly both, and then Pooh, to be polite, inquired, “Oh, how was it on the far side of the Great Pond?”
“Sunshiny. And very friendly,” said Kanga, who liked to put on a Brave Face. But Eeyore, who did not have the sort of Face you can be Brave with, just said, “Much as I thought. Not that I thought very much.”
“Did you hide from the Heffatrump?” asked Piglet, who was worried that the answer to his question might be Yes, but was even more worried in case it turned out to be No.
“Yes,” said Kanga.
“No,” said Eeyore. “We tried hiding, but we were spotted. It is very hard to hide from a Heffatrump. Even when he is not there, you can’t help feeling that he is. So in the end we had to have tea with the Heffatrump.”
Then there was a Silence, the longest any of them could remember. Pooh spent the Silence wondering if there had been honey for tea, but thought it rude to ask. Piglet quivered a little. But Christopher Robin, who, as Owl always said, was highly Fullosophical, just said, “Tell me, Eeyore, if you had the chance to cross the Great Pond again, and meet the Heffatrump one more time, would you go?”
And Eeyore thought a while, and replied, “Do you know, Christopher Robin, I don’t believe I would. I would prefer to stay here with you and Pooh and Piglet and Kanga. And even Tigger, which is saying a lot. Because life with a Heffatrump is—”
And Pooh could see that Eeyore was looking for a word, as if he had dropped it.
“Blustery,” said Pooh.
“Thank you, Pooh,” said Eeyore. “With a Heffatrump, every day is a Blustery Day.” ♦