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Chapter III
In Which
A Search is Organdized, and Piglet
Nearly Meets the Heffalump Again
Pooh was sitting in his house one day, counting his pots of honey, when there came a knock on the door.
“Fourteen,” said Pooh. “Come in. Fourteen. Or was it fifteen? Bother. That’s muddled me.”
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“Hallo, Pooh,” said Rabbit.
“Hallo, Rabbit. Fourteen, wasn’t it?”
“What was?”
“My pots of honey what I was counting.”
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