By the time it
came to the edge of the forest the stream had grown up, so that
it was almost a river, and, being grown-up, it did not run and
jump and sparkle along as it used to do when it was younger, but
moved more slowly. For it knew now where it was going, and it
said to itself, 'There is no hurry. We shall get there some day.'
But all the little streams higher up in the Forest went this way
and than. quickly, eagerly, having so much to find out before it
was too late. There was a broad track, almost as broad as a road, leading from the Outland to the Forest, but before it could come to the Forest, it had to cross this river. So, where it crossed, there was a wooden bridge, almost as broad as a road, with wooden rails on each side of it. Christopher Robin could get his chin on the top of the rail, if he wanted to, but it was more fun to stand on the bottom rail so that he could lean right over, and watch the river slipping slowly away beneath him. Pooh could get his chin on to the bottom rail if he wanted to, but it was more fun to lie down and get his head under it,and watch the river slipping slowly away beneath him. And this was the only way in which Piglet and Roo could watch the river at all, because they were too small to reach the bottom rail. so they would lie down and watch it... ands slipped away very slowly, being in no hurry to get there.
One day, when Pooh was walking towards this bridge, he was trying to make up a piece of poetry about fir-cones,because there they were, lying about on each side of him, and he felt singy. So he picked a fir-cone up, and looked at it, and said to himself, "This is a very good fir-cone, and something ought to rhyme to it.' But he couldn't think of any thing. And then this came into his head suddenly:
Here's a myst'ry
About a little fir-tree.
Owl says it's his tree,
And Kanga says it's her tree.
'Which doesn't make sense,'said Pooh, 'because Kanga doesn't live in a tree.
He had just come to the bridge; and not looking where he was going, he tripped over something, and the fir-cone jerked out of his paw into the river.
'Bother,' said Pooh, as it floated slowly under the bridge, and he went back to get another fir-cone which had rhyme to it. but then he thought that he would just look at the river instead, because it was a peaceful sort of day, so he lay down and looked at ot, and it slipped slowly away beneath him... and suddenly, there was this fir-cone slipping away too.
'That's funny,' said Pooh. 'I dropped it on the other side,' said Pooh, 'and it came out on this side! I wonder if it would do it again?' And he went back for some more fir-cones.
It did. It kept on doing it. Then he dropped two in at once, and leant over the bridge to see which of them would come out first; and one of them did; but as they were both the same size, he didn't know if it was the one which he wanted to win, or the other one. So the next time he dropped one big one and one little one, and the big one came out first, which was what he said it would do, and the little one came out last, which he had said it would do, so he had won twice.... and when he went home for tea, he had won thirty-six and lost twenty-eight, wich meant that he was - that he had - well, you take twenty-eight from thirty-six, and that's what he was. Instead of the other way around.
And that was the beginning of the game called Pooh-sticks, which Pooh invented, and which he and his friends used to play on the edge on the Forest. But they played with sticks instead of fir-cones, because they were easier to mark.
