twenty-eight, which meant that he was—that he had—well, you take twenty-eight from thirty-six, and that’s what he was. Instead of the other way round.
And that was the beginning of the game called Poohsticks, which Pooh invented, and which he and his friends used to play on the edge of the Forest. But they played with sticks instead of fir-cones, because they were easier to mark.
Now one day Pooh and Piglet and Rabbit and Roo were all playing Poohsticks together. They had dropped their sticks in when Rabbit said “Go!” and then they had hurried across to the other side of the bridge, and now they were all leaning over the edge, waiting to see whose stick would come out first. But it was a long time coming, because the river was very lazy that day, and hardly seemed to mind if it didn’t ever get there at all.
“I can see mine!” cried Roo. “No, I can’t, it’s something else. Can you see yours, Piglet? I thought I could see mine, but I couldn’t. There it is! No, it isn’t. Can you see yours, Pooh?”
“No,” said Pooh.
“I expect my stick’s stuck,” said Roo. “Rabbit, my stick’s stuck. Is your stick stuck, Piglet?”
“They always take longer than you think,” said Rabbit.
“How long do you think they’ll take?” asked Roo.
“I can see yours, Piglet,” said Pooh suddenly.
