Piglet thought for a little.
“I think what I’d like best, Pooh, is I’d like you to hum it to me now—and—and then to hum it to all of us. Because then Everybody would hear it, but I could say ‘Oh, yes, Pooh’s told me,’ and pretend not to be listening.”
So Pooh hummed it to him, all the seven verses and Piglet said nothing, but just stood and glowed.
Never before had anyone sung ho for Piglet (PIGLET) ho all by himself. When it was over, he wanted to ask for one of the verses over again, but didn’t quite like to. It was the verse beginning “O gallant Piglet,” and it seemed to him a very thoughtful way of beginning a piece of poetry.
“Did I really do all that?” he said at last.
“Well,” said Pooh, “in poetry—in a piece of poetry—well, you did it, Piglet, because the poetry says you did. And that’s how people know.”
“Oh!” said Piglet. “Because I—I thought I did blinch a little. Just at first. And it says, ‘Did he blinch no no.’ That’s why.”
“You only blinched inside,” said Pooh, “and that’s the bravest way for a Very Small Animal not to blinch that there is.”
Piglet sighed with happiness, and began to think about himself. He was BRAVE . . .
When they got to Owl’s old house, they found everybody else there except Eeyore. Christopher
