"There you are!" said Piglet. "I told you so. I'm Piglet."
Christopher Robin shook his head again.
"Oh, you're not Piglet," he said. "I know Piglet well, and he's quite
a different colour."
Piglet began to say that this was because he had just had a bath, and
then he thought that perhaps he wouldn't say that, and as he opened his
mouth to say something else, Kanga slipped the medicine spoon in, and
then patted him on the back and told him that it was really quite a nice
taste when you got used to it.
"I knew it wasn't Piglet," said Kanga. "I wonder who it can be."
"Perhaps it's some relation of Pooh's," said Christopher Robin. "What
about a nephew or an uncle or something?"
Kanga agreed that this was probably what it was, and said that they
would have to call it by some name.
"I shall call it Pootel," said Christopher Robin. "Henry Pootel for
short."
And just when it was decided, Henry Pootel wriggled out of Kanga's arms
and jumped to the ground. To his great joy Christopher Robin had left
the door open. Never had Henry Pootel Piglet run so fast as he ran then,
and he didn't stop running until he had got quite close to his house.
But when he was a hundred yards away he stopped running, and rolled the
rest of the way home, so as to get his own nice comfortable colour
again....


So Kanga and Roo stayed in the Forest. And every Tuesday Roo spent the
day with his great friend Rabbit, and every Tuesday Kanga spent the day
with her great friend Pooh, teaching him to jump, and every Tuesday
Piglet spent the day with his great friend Christopher Robin. So they
were all happy again.

CHAPTER VIII
IN WHICH CHRISTOPHER ROBIN LEADS AN EXPOTITION TO THE NORTH POLE
One fine day Pooh had stumped up to the top of the Forest to see if
his friend Christopher Robin was interested in Bears at all. At
breakfast that morning (a simple meal of marmalade spread lightly over a
honeycomb or two) he had suddenly thought of a new song. It began like
this:


"Sing Ho! for the life of a Bear."