Unknown Artist Paris Eiffel Tower paintingRene Magritte The Son of Man painting
has been raining," explained Owl. "Yes," said Christopher Robin. "It has." "The flood-level has reached an unprecedented height." "The who?" "There's a lot of water about," explained Owl. "Yes," said Christopher Robin, "there is." "However, the prospects are rapidly becoming more favourable. At any moment--" "Have you seen Pooh?" "No. At any moment--" "I hope he's all right," said Christopher Robin. "I've been wondering about him. I expect Piglet's with him. Do you think they're all right, Owl?" "I expect so. You see, at any moment--" "Do go and see, Owl. Because Pooh hasn't got very much brain, and he might do something silly, and I do love him so, Owl. Do you see, Owl?" "That's all right," said Owl. "I'll go. Back directly." And he flew off. In a little while he was back again. Pooh isn't there," he said. "Not there?" "He's been there. He's been sitting on a branch of his tree outside his house with nine pots of honey. But he isn't there now." "Oh, Pooh!" cried Christopher Robin. "Where are you?" "Here I am," said a growly voice behind him.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment