Written down, like this, it doesn't seem a very good song, but coming through pale fawn fluff at about half-past eleven on a very sunny morning, it seemed to Pooh to be one of the best songs he had ever sung. So he went on singing it.
Piglet was busy digging a small hole in the ground outside his house.
"Hallo, Piglet," said Pooh.
"Hallo, Pooh," said Piglet, giving a jump of surprise. "I knew it was you."
"So did I," said Pooh. "What are you doing?"
"I'm planting a haycorn, Pooh, so that it can grow up into an oak-tree, and have lots of haycorns just outside the front door instead of having to walk miles and miles, do you see, Pooh?"
"Supposing it doesn't?" said Pooh.