"Of course, Eeyore."
"My birthday?"
"Yes."
"Me having a real birthday?"
"Yes, Eeyore, and I've brought you a present."
Eeyore took down his right hoof from his right ear, turned round, and
with great difficulty put up his left hoof.
"I must have that in the other ear," he said. "Now then."
"A present," said Piglet very loudly.
"Meaning me again?"
"Yes."
"My birthday still?"
"Of course, Eeyore."
"Me going on having a real birthday?"
"Yes, Eeyore, and I brought you a balloon."


"Balloon?" said Eeyore. "You did say balloon? One of those big
coloured things you blow up? Gaiety, song-and-dance, here we are and
there we are?"
"Yes, but I'm afraid—I'm very sorry, Eeyore—but when I was running
along to bring it you, I fell down."
"Dear, dear, how unlucky! You ran too fast, I expect. You didn't hurt
yourself, Little Piglet?"
"No, but I—I—oh, Eeyore, I burst the balloon!"
There was a very long silence.
"My balloon?" said Eeyore at last.
Piglet nodded.
"My birthday balloon?"
"Yes, Eeyore," said Piglet sniffing a little. "Here it is. With—with
many happy returns of the day." And he gave Eeyore the small piece of
damp rag.
"Is this it?" said Eeyore, a little surprised.
Piglet nodded.
"My present?"
Piglet nodded again.
"The balloon?"
"Yes."
"Thank you, Piglet," said Eeyore. "You don't mind my asking," he went
on, "but what colour was this balloon when it—when it was a balloon?"
"Red."
"I just wondered.... Red," he murmured to himself. "My favourite
colour.... How big was it?"
"About as big as me."
"I just wondered.... About as big as Piglet," he said to himself
sadly. "My favourite size. Well, well."
Piglet felt very miserable, and didn't know what to say. He was still
opening his mouth to begin something, and then deciding that it wasn't
any good saying that, when he heard a shout from the other side of the
river, and there was Pooh.
"Many happy returns of the day," called out Pooh, forgetting that he had
said it already.