“Yes, yes,” said Rabbit, “but I mean later than that. Have you seen him between eleven and twelve?”
“Well,” said Pooh, “at eleven o’clock—at eleven o’clock—well, at eleven o’clock, you see, I generally get home about then. Because I have One or Two Things to Do.”
“Quarter past eleven, then?”
“Well———” said Pooh.
“Half past.”
“Yes,” said Pooh. “At half past—or perhaps later—I might see him.”
And now that he did think of it, he began to remember that he hadn’t seen Christopher Robin about so much lately. Not in the mornings. Afternoons, yes; evenings, yes; before breakfast, yes; just after breakfast, yes. And then, perhaps, “See you again, Pooh,” and off he’d go.
“That’s just it,” said Rabbit, “Where?”
“Perhaps he’s looking for something.”
“What?” asked Rabbit.
“That’s just what I was going to say,” said Pooh. And then he added, “Perhaps he’s looking for a—for a———”
“A Spotted or Herbaceous Backson?”
“Yes,” said Pooh. “One of those. In case it isn’t.”
Rabbit looked at him severely.
“I don’t think you’re helping,” he said.
