surrounded by water and I can't do anything."
It went on raining, and every day the water got a little higher, until
now it was nearly up to Piglet's window ... and still he hadn't done
anything.


"There's Pooh," he thought to himself. "Pooh hasn't much Brain, but he
never comes to any harm. He does silly things and they turn out right.
There's Owl. Owl hasn't exactly got Brain, but he Knows Things. He would
know the Right Thing to Do when Surrounded by Water. There's Rabbit. He
hasn't Learnt in Books, but he can always Think of a Clever Plan.
There's Kanga. She isn't Clever, Kanga isn't, but she would be so
anxious about Roo that she would do a Good Thing to Do without thinking
about It. And then there's Eeyore. And Eeyore is so miserable anyhow
that he wouldn't mind about this. But I wonder what Christopher Robin
would do?"
Then suddenly he remembered a story which Christopher Robin had told him
about a man on a desert island who had written something in a bottle and
thrown it in the sea; and Piglet thought that if he wrote something in a
bottle and threw it in the water, perhaps somebody would come and rescue
him!
He left the window and began to search his house, all of it that wasn't
under water, and at last he found a pencil and a small piece of dry
paper, and a bottle with a cork to it. And he wrote on one side of the
paper:
HELP!
PIGLET (ME)
and on the other side:
IT'S ME PIGLET, HELP HELP.
Then he put the paper in the bottle, and he corked the bottle up as
tightly as he could, and he leant out of his window as far as he could
lean without falling in, and he threw the bottle as far as he could
throw—splash!—and in a little while it bobbed up again on the water;
and he watched it floating slowly away in the distance, until his eyes
ached with looking, and sometimes he thought it was the bottle, and
sometimes he thought it was just a ripple on the water which he was
following, and then suddenly he knew that he would never see it again