On Monday, when the sun is hot
I wonder to myself a lot:
"Now is it true, or is it not,
"That what is which and which is what?"


On Tuesday, when it hails and snows,
The feeling on me grows and grows
That hardly anybody knows
If those are these or these are those.


On Wednesday, when the sky is blue,
And I have nothing else to do,
I sometimes wonder if it's true
That who is what and what is who.


On Thursday, when it starts to freeze
And hoar-frost twinkles on the trees,
How very readily one sees
That these are whose—but whose are these?


On Friday——

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" said Kanga, not waiting to hear what happened on
Friday. "Just one more jump, Roo, dear, and then we really must be
going."


Rabbit gave Pooh a hurrying-up sort of nudge.
"Talking of Poetry," said Pooh quickly, "have you ever noticed that tree
right over there?"
"Where?" said Kanga. "Now, Roo——"
"Right over there," said Pooh, pointing behind Kanga's back.
"No," said Kanga. "Now jump in, Roo, dear, and we'll go home."
"You ought to look at that tree right over there," said Rabbit. "Shall I
lift you in, Roo?" And he picked up Roo in his paws.
"I can see a bird in it from here," said Pooh. "Or is it a fish?"
"You ought to see that bird from here," said Rabbit. "Unless it's a
fish."
"It isn't a fish, it's a bird," said Piglet.
"So it is," said Rabbit.
"Is it a starling or a blackbird?" said Pooh.
"That's the whole question," said Rabbit. "Is it a blackbird or a
starling?"
And then at last Kanga did turn her head to look. And the moment that
her head was turned, Rabbit said in a loud voice "In you go, Roo!" and
in jumped Piglet into Kanga's pocket, and off scampered Rabbit, with Roo
in his paws, as fast as he could.
"Why, where's Rabbit?" said Kanga, turning round again. "Are you all
right, Roo, dear?"
Piglet made a squeaky Roo-noise from the bottom of Kanga's pocket.
"Rabbit had to go away," said Pooh. "I think he thought of something he
had to go and see about suddenly."