Part 2

She said she didn't mean it, and I never said she did, She said she wanted matches and she just took off the lid, She said that she was sorry, but it's difficult to catch An excited sort of beetle you've mistaken for a match.

She said that she was sorry, and I really mustn't mind, As there's lots and lots of beetles which she's certain we could find, If we looked about the garden for the holes where beetles hid-- And we'd get another match-box and write BEETLE on the lid.

We went to all the places which a beetle might be near, And we made the sort of noises which a beetle likes to hear, And I saw a kind of something, and I gave a sort of shout: "A beetle-house and Alexander Beetle coming out!"

It was Alexander Beetle I'm as certain as can be And he had a sort of look as if he thought it must be ME, And he had a sort of look as if he thought he ought to say: "I'm very very sorry that I tried to run away."

And Nanny's very sorry too for you-know-what-she-did, And she's writing ALEXANDER very blackly on the lid. So Nan and Me are friends, because it's difficult to catch An excited Alexander you've mistaken for a match.

THE EMPEROR'S RHYME

The King of Peru (Who was Emperor too) Had a sort of a rhyme Which was useful to know, If he felt very shy When a stranger came by, Or they asked him the time When his watch didn't go; Or supposing he fell (By mistake) down a well, Or he tumbled when skating And sat on his hat, Or perhaps wasn't told, Till his porridge was cold, That his breakfast was waiting-- Or something like that; Oh, whenever the Emperor Got in to a temper, or Felt himself sulky or sad, He would murmur and murmur, Until he felt firmer, This curious rhyme which he had:

_Eight eights are sixty-four, Multiply by seven. When it's done, Carry one And take away eleven, Nine nines are eighty-one Multiply by three. If it's more, Carry four, And then it's time for tea._

So whenever the Queen Took his armour to clean, And she didn't remember To use any starch; Or his birthday (in May) Was a horrible day, Being wet as November And windy as March; Or, if sitting in state With the Wise and the Great, He just happened to hiccup While signing his name, Or the Queen gave a cough, When his crown tumbled off As he bent down to pick up A pen for the same; Oh, whenever the Emperor Got into a temper, or Felt himself awkward and shy, He would whisper and whisper, Until he felt crisper, This odd little rhyme to the sky:

_Eight eights are eighty-one; Multiply by seven. If it's more, Carry four, And take away eleven. Nine nines are sixty-four; Multiply by three. When it's done, Carry one, And then it's time for tea._

KNIGHT-IN-ARMOUR

Whenever I'm a shining Knight, I buckle on my armour tight; And then I look about for things, Like Rushings-Out, and Rescuings, And Savings from the Dragon's Lair, And fighting all the Dragons there. And sometimes when our fights begin, I think I'll let the Dragons win.... And then I think perhaps I won't, Because they're Dragons, and I don't.

COME OUT WITH ME

_There's sun on the river and sun on the hill_.... You can hear the sea if you stand quite still! There's eight new puppies at Roundabout Farm-- And I saw an old sailor with only one arm!

But every one says, "Run along!" (Run along, run along!) All of them say "Run along! I'm busy as can be." Every one says, "Run along, There's a little darling!" If I'm a little darling, why don't they run with me?

_There's wind on the river and wind on the hill_.... There's a dark dead water-wheel under the mill! I saw a fly which had just been drowned-- And I know where a rabbit goes into the ground!

But every one says, "Run along!" (Run along, run along!) All of them say "Yes, dear," and never notice me. Every one says, "Run along, There's a little darling!" If I'm a little darling, why won't they come and see?

DOWN BY THE POND

_I'm fishing._ Don't talk, anybody, don't come near! Can't you see that the fish might hear? He thinks I'm playing with a piece of string; He thinks I'm another sort of funny sort of thing, _But he doesn't know I'm fishing-- He doesn't know I'm fishing._ That's what I'm doing-- Fishing.

_No, I'm not, I'm newting._ Don't cough, anybody, don't come by! Any small noise makes a newt feel shy. He thinks I'm a bush, or a new sort of tree; He thinks it's somebody, but doesn't think it's Me, _And he doesn't know I'm newting-- No, he doesn't know I'm newting._ That's what I'm doing-- Newting.

THE LITTLE BLACK HEN

Berryman and Baxter, Prettiboy and Penn And old Farmer Middleton Are five big men.... And all of them were after The Little Black Hen.

She ran quickly, They ran fast; Baxter was first, and Berryman was last. I sat and watched By the old plum-tree.... She squawked through the hedge And she came to me.

The Little Black Hen Said "Oh, it's you!" I said "Thank you, How do you do? And please will you tell me, Little Black Hen, What did they want, Those five big men?"

The Little Black Hen She said to me: "They want me to lay them An egg for tea. If they were Emperors, If they were Kings, I'm much too busy To lay them things."

"I'm not a King And I haven't a crown; I climb up trees, And I tumble down. I can shut one eye, I can count to ten, So lay me an egg, please, Little Black Hen."

The Little Black Hen said, "What will you pay, If I lay you an egg For Easter Day?"

"I'll give you a Please And a How-do-you-do, I'll show you the Bear Who lives in the Zoo, I'll show you the nettle-place On my leg, If you'll lay me a great big Eastery egg."

The Little Black Hen Said "I don't care For a How-do-you-do Or a Big-brown-bear, But I'll lay you a beautiful Eastery egg, If you'll show me the nettle-place On your leg."

I showed her the place Where I had my sting. She touched it gently With one black wing. "Nettles don't hurt If you count to ten. And now for the egg," Said the Little Black Hen.

When I wake up On Easter Day, I shall see my egg She's promised to lay. If I were Emperors, If I were Kings, It couldn't be fuller Of wonderful things.

Berryman and Baxter, Prettiboy and Penn, And old Farmer Middleton Are five big men. All of them are wanting An egg for their tea, But the Little Black Hen is much too busy, The Little Black Hen is _much_ too busy, The Little Black Hen is MUCH too busy.... _She's laying my egg for me!_

THE FRIEND

There are lots and lots of people who are always asking things, Like Dates and Pounds-and-ounces and the names of funny Kings, And the answer's either Sixpence or A Hundred Inches Long, And I know they'll think me silly if I get the answer wrong.

So Pooh and I go whispering, and Pooh looks very bright, And says, "Well, _I_ say sixpence, but I don't suppose I'm right," And then it doesn't matter what the answer ought to be, 'Cos if he's right, I'm Right, and if he's wrong, it isn't Me.

THE GOOD LITTLE GIRL

It's funny how often they say to me, "Jane? "Have you been a _good_ girl?" "Have you been a _good_ girl?" And when they have said it, they say it again, "Have you been a _good_ girl?" "Have you been a _good_ girl?"

I go to a party, I go out to tea, I go to an aunt for a week at the sea, I come back from school or from playing a game; Wherever I come from, it's always the same: "Well? Have you been a _good_ girl, Jane?"

It's always the end of the loveliest day: "Have you been a _good_ girl?" "Have you been a _good_ girl?" I went to the Zoo, and they waited to say: "Have you been a _good_ girl?" "Have you been a _good_ girl?"

Well, what did they think that I went there to do? And why should I want to be bad at the Zoo? _And should I be likely to say if I had?_ So that's why it's funny of Mummy and Dad, This asking and asking, in case I was bad, "Well? Have you been a _good_ girl, Jane?"

A THOUGHT

If I were John and John were Me, Then he'd be six and I'd be three. If John were Me and I were John, I shouldn't have these trousers on.

KING HILARY AND THE BEGGERMAN

_Of Hilary the Great and Good They tell a tale at Christmas time I've often thought the story would Be prettier but just as good If almost anybody should Translate it into rime. So I have done the best I can For lack of some more learned man._

Good King Hilary Said to his Chancellor (Proud Lord Willoughby, Lord High Chancellor): "Run to the wicket-gate Quickly, quickly, Run to the wicket gate And see who is knocking. It may be a rich man, Sea-borne from Araby, Bringing me peacocks, Emeralds and ivory; It may be a poor man, Travel-worn and weary, Bringing me oranges To put in my stocking."

Proud Lord Willoughby, Lord High Chancellor, Laughed both loud and free:[1] "I've served Your Majesty, man to man, Since first Your Majesty's reign began, And I've often walked, but I never, never ran, Never, never, never," quoth he.

[Footnote 1: Haw! Haw! Haw!]

Good King Hilary Said to his Chancellor (Proud Lord Willoughby, Lord High Chancellor): "Walk to the wicket-gate Quickly, quickly, Walk to the wicket-gate And see who is knocking.

It may be a captain, Hawk-nosed, bearded, Bringing me gold-dust, Spices, and sandalwood: It may be a scullion, Care-free, whistling, Bringing me sugar-plums To put in my stocking."

Proud Lord Willoughby, Lord High Chancellor, Laughed both loud and free: "I've served in the Palace since I was four, And I'll serve in the Palace a-many years more, And I've opened a window, but never a door, Never, never, never," quoth he.

Good King Hilary Said to his Chancellor (Proud Lord Willoughby, Lord High Chancellor): "Open the window Quickly, quickly, Open the window And see who is knocking.

It may be a waiting-maid, Apple-cheeked, dimpled, Sent by her mistress To bring me greeting; It may be children, Anxious, whispering, Bringing me cobnuts, To put in my stocking."

Proud Lord Willoughby, Lord High Chancellor, Laughed both loud and free: "I'll serve Your Majesty till I die-- As Lord Chancellor, not as spy To peep from lattices; no, not I, Never, never, never," quoth he.

Good King Hilary Looked at his Chancellor (Proud Lord Willoughby, Lord High Chancellor): He said no word To his stiff-set Chancellor, But ran to the wicket-gate To see who was knocking. He found no rich man Trading from Araby; He found no captain, Blue-eyed, weather-tanned; He found no waiting-maid Sent by her mistress; But only a beggarman With one red stocking.

Good King Hilary Looked at the beggarman, And laughed him three times three; And he turned that beggarman round about: "Your thews are strong, and your arm is stout; Come, throw me a Lord High Chancellor out, And take his place," quoth he.

Of Hilary the Good and Great Old wives at Christmas time relate This tale, which points, at any rate, Two morals on the way. The first: "_Whatever Fortune brings, Don't be afraid of doing things._" (Especially, of course, for Kings.) It also seems to say (But not so wisely): "_He who begs With one red stocking on his legs Will be, as sure as eggs are eggs, A Chancellor some day._"

SWING SONG

Here I go up in my swing Ever so high. I am the King of the fields, and the King Of the town. I am the King of the earth, and the King Of the sky. Here I go up in my swing.... Now I go down.

EXPLAINED

Elizabeth Ann Said to her Nan: "Please will you tell me how God began? _Somebody_ must have made Him. So Who could it be, 'cos I want to know?" And Nurse said, "_Well!_" And Ann said, "Well? I know you know, and I wish you'd tell." And Nurse took pins from her mouth, and said, "Now then, darling, it's time for bed."

Elizabeth Ann Had a wonderful plan: She would run round the world till she found a man Who knew _exactly_ how God began. She got up early, she dressed, and ran Trying to find an Important Man. She ran to London and knocked at the door Of the Lord High Doodelum's coach-and-four. "Please, sir (if there's anyone in), However-and-ever did God begin?"

The Lord High Doodelum lay in bed, But out of the window, large and red, Came the Lord High Coachman's face instead. And the Lord High Coachman laughed and said: "Well, what put _that_ in your quaint little head?"

Elizabeth Ann went home again And took from the ottoman Jennifer Jane. "Jenniferjane," said Elizabeth Ann, "Tell me _at once_ how God began." And Jane, who didn't much care for speaking, Replied in her usual way by squeaking.

What did it mean? Well, to be quite candid, _I_ don't know, but Elizabeth Ann did. Elizabeth Ann said softly, "Oh! Thank you, Jennifer. Now I know."

TWICE TIMES

There were Two little Bears who lived in a Wood, And one of them was Bad and the other was Good. Good Bear learnt his Twice Times One-- But Bad Bear left all his buttons undone.

They lived in a Tree when the weather was hot, And one of them was Good, and the other was Not. Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Two-- But Bad Bear's thingummies were worn right through.

They lived in a Cave when the weather was cold, And they Did, and they Didn't Do, what they were told. Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Three-- But Bad Bear _never_ had his hand-ker-chee.

They lived in the Wood with a Kind Old Aunt, And one said "_Yes'm_," and the other said "_Shan't!_" Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Four-- But Bad Bear's knicketies were terrible tore.

And then quite suddenly (just like Us) One got Better and the other got Wuss. Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Three-- But Bad Bear coughed _in his hand-ker-chee_!

Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Two-- But Bad Bear's thingummies looked like new. Good Bear muddled his Twice Times One-- But Bad Bear _never_ left his buttons undone.

There may be a Moral, though some say not; I think there's a moral, though I don't know what. But if one gets better, as the other gets wuss, These Two Little Bears are just like Us. For Christopher remembers up to Twice Times Ten.... But _I_ keep forgetting where I've put my pen.[2]

[Footnote 2: _So I have had to write this one in pencil._]

THE MORNING WALK

When Anne and I go out a walk, We hold each other's hand and talk Of all the things we mean to do When Anne and I are forty-two.

And when we've thought about a thing, Like bowling hoops or bicycling, Or falling down on Anne's balloon, We do it in the afternoon.

CRADLE SONG

O Timothy Tim Has ten pink toes, And ten pink toes Has Timothy Tim. They go with him Wherever he goes, And wherever he goes They go with him.

O Timothy Tim Has two blue eyes, And two blue eyes Has Timothy Tim. They cry with him Whenever he cries, And whenever he cries, They cry with him.

O Timothy Tim Has one red head, And one red head Has Timothy Tim. It sleeps with him In Timothy's bed. Sleep well, red head Of Timothy Tim.

WAITING AT THE WINDOW

These are my two drops of rain Waiting on the window-pane.

I am waiting here to see Which the winning one will be.

Both of them have different names. One is John and one is James.

All the best and all the worst Comes from which of them is first.

James has just begun to ooze. He's the one I want to lose.

John is waiting to begin. He's the one I want to win.

James is going slowly on. Something sort of sticks to John.

John is moving off at last. James is going pretty fast.

John is rushing down the pane. James is going slow again.

James has met a sort of smear. John is getting very near.

Is he going fast enough? (James has found a piece of fluff.)

John has hurried quickly by. (James was talking to a fly.)

John is there, and John has won! _Look! I told you! Here's the sun!_

PINKLE PURR

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr, A little black nothing of feet and fur; And by-and-by, when his eyes came through, He saw his mother, the big Tattoo. And all that he learned he learned from her. "I'll ask my mother," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr, A ridiculous kitten with silky fur. And little black Pinkle grew and grew Till he got as big as the big Tattoo. And all that he did he did with her. "Two friends together," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr, An adventurous cat in a coat of fur. And whenever he thought of a thing to do, He didn't much bother about Tattoo, For he knows its nothing to do with her, So "See you later," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo is the mother of Pinkle Purr, An enormous leopard with coal-black fur. A little brown kitten that's nearly new Is now playing games with its big Tattoo.... And Pink looks lazily down at her: "Dear little Tat," says Pinkle Purr.

WIND ON THE HILL

No one can tell me, Nobody knows, Where the wind comes from, Where the wind goes.

It's flying from somewhere As fast as it can, I couldn't keep up with it, Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding The string of my kite, It would blow with the wind For a day and a night.

And then when I found it, Wherever it blew, I should know that the wind Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them Where the wind goes.... But where the wind comes from _Nobody_ knows.

FORGOTTEN

Lords of the Nursery Wait in a row, Five on the high wall, And four on the low; Big Kings and Little Kings, Brown Bears and Black, All of them waiting Till John comes back.

Some think that John boy Is lost in the wood, Some say he couldn't be, Some say he could. Some think that John boy Hides on the hill; Some say he won't come back, Some say he will.

High was the sun, when John went away.... Here they've been waiting All through the day; Big Bears and Little Bears, White Kings and Black, All of them waiting Till John comes back.

Lords of the Nursery Looked down the hill, Some saw the sheep-fold, Some saw the mill; Some saw the roofs Of the little grey town.... And their shadows grew long As the sun slipt down.

Gold between the poplars An old moon shows; Silver up the star-way The full moon rose; Silver down the star-way The old moon crept.... And, one by another, The grey fields slept.

Lords of the Nursery Their still watch keep.... They hear from the sheep-fold The rustle of sheep. A young bird twitters And hides its head; A little wind suddenly Breathes, and is dead.

Slowly and slowly Dawns the new day.... What's become of John boy? No one can say. Some think that John boy Is lost on the hill; Some say he won't come back, Some say he will.

_What's become of John boy? Nothing at all, He played with his skipping rope, He played with his ball. He ran after butterflies, Blue ones and red; He did a hundred happy things-- And then went to bed._

IN THE DARK

I've had my supper, And _had_ my supper, And _HAD_ my supper and all; I've heard the story Of Cinderella, And how she went to the ball; I've cleaned my teeth, And I've said my prayers, And I've cleaned and said them right; And they've all of them been And kissed me lots, They've all of them said "Good-night."

So--here I am in the dark alone, There's nobody here to see; I think to myself, I play to myself, And nobody knows what I say to myself; Here I am in the dark alone, What is it going to be? I can think whatever I like to think, I can play whatever I like to play, I can laugh whatever I like to laugh, There's nobody here but me.

I'm talking to a rabbit ... I'm talking to the sun ... I think I am a hundred-- I'm one. I'm lying in a forest ... I'm lying in a cave ... I'm talking to a Dragon ... I'm BRAVE. I'm lying on my left side ... I'm lying on my right ... I'll play a lot to-morrow ... ....... I'll think a lot to-morrow ... ....... I'll laugh ... a lot ... to-morrow ... (_Heigh-ho!_) Good-night.

THE END

When I was One, I had just begun.

When I was Two, I was nearly new.

When I was Three, I was hardly Me.

When I was Four, I was not much more.

When I was Five, I was just alive.

But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever. So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.

* * * * *

NEW UNIFORM EDITION

These inimitable and imperishable Milne classics with the Shepard drawings are now available, _for the first time_, in a new edition, uniform with this volume.

WHEN WE WERE VERY YOUNG

The most popular book of child-verse of modern times.

NOW WE ARE SIX

A companion volume of verse to When We Were Very Young

WINNIE-THE-POOH

Pooh and Christopher Robin are among the most treasured characters of story-land.

THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER

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OTHER BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS

_By_ A. A. MILNE

THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN VERSES

Fully illustrated by E. H. SHEPARD, with 12 plates in color

THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN STORY BOOK

Illustrated by E. H. SHEPARD

THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN BIRTHDAY BOOK

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THE CHRISTOPHER ROBIN READER

Collected by A. A. MILNE from his four books of poetry and prose, including selections recommended by the New York City Board of Education.

SONG-BOOKS FROM THE POEMS OF A. A. MILNE

With Music by H. FRASER-SIMSON and Decorations by E. H. SHEPARD

FOURTEEN SONGS TEDDY BEAR AND OTHER SONGS SONGS FROM "NOW WE ARE SIX" THE KING'S BREAKFAST MORE "VERY YOUNG" SONGS THE HUMS OF POOH