Music Welcome to Snewscast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snewscast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by Honeypots. Tonight, we'll read the next part too, Winnie the Pooh, a children's story written by AA Mill and published in 1926. This collection of short stories features an anthropomorphic teddy bear Win Winnie the Pooh, along with his friends Christopher Robin, Piglet, Eor, Owl, Rabbit, Kenga, and Roo. In the previous episode, we read chapter 4 and the first half of chapter 5, in which which are introduced to Eor, who has lost his tail,

and who finds one. Also, Piglet wants to meet a Heavlo.

Let's get cozy. Close your eyes.

Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. As soon as Poo got home, he went to the larder and stood on a chair and took down a very large jar of honey from the top shelf. It had H-U-N-N-Y written on it, but just to make sure he took off the paper cover and looked at it, and it looked just like honey. But, you never can tell," said Pooh. I remember my uncle saying once that he had seen cheese just this color. So, he put his tongue in and took a large lick. Yes, he said it is. No doubt about that. And honey, I should say, right down to the bottom of the jar. Unless, of course, he said, somebody put cheese in the bottom just for a joke. Perhaps I'd better go a little further, just in case. In case, heffelum's don't like cheese, same as me. Ah, and he gave a deep sigh. I was right. It is honey, right the way down.

Having made certain of this, he took the jar back to Piglet, and Piglet looked up from the bottom of his very deep pit and said, got it?

And Poo said,

yes,

but it isn't quite a full jar. And he threw it down to Piglet. And Piglet said, no, it isn't. Is that all you've got left? And Poo said, yes. Because it was. So Piglet put the jar at the bottom of the pit and climbed out. And they went off home together. "'Well, good night, Poo,' said Piglet, when they had got to Poo's house. And we meet at 6 o'clock tomorrow morning by the pine trees and see how many hephalamps we've got in our trap. 6 o'clock, Piglet. And have you got any string? No. Why do you want string? To lead them home with. Oh, I think hephalamps come if you whistle. Some do and some don't. You never can tell with hephalamps. Well, good night. Good night. And off Piglet Trotted to his house, Trespassers W, while Poo made his preparations for bed. Some hours later, just as the night was beginning to steal away, Poo woke up suddenly with a sinking feeling. He had had that sinking feeling before, and

he knew what it meant. He was hungry. So we went to the larder, and he stood on a chair, And reached up to the top shelf and found nothing.

That's funny, he thought. I know I had a jar of honey there, a full jar full of honey right up to the top, and it had honey written on it so that I should know it was honey. That's very funny. And then he began to wander up and down, wandering where it was and murmuring a murmur to himself like this. It's very, very funny, I know I had some honey because it had a label on saying honey. A glob-tuous full-up pot too and I don't know where it's Scott too. No, I don't know where it's gone. Well, it's funny. He had murmured this to himself three times in a singing sort of way. When suddenly he remembered, he had put it into the cunning trap to catch the Heffelump. Bother said Poo had all comes of trying to be kind to Heffelump's. And he got back into bed. But he couldn't sleep. The more he tried to sleep, the more he couldn't. He tried counting sheep, which is sometimes a good way of getting to sleep. And as that was no good, he tried counting heffelumps. And that was worse. Because every Heffalump that he counted was making straight fur a pot of poo's honey and eating it all. For some minutes he lay there miserably, but when the 587th Heffalump was licking its jaws and saying to itself, very good honey this, I don't know when I've tasted better. Poo could bear it no longer. He jumped out of bed. He ran out of the house, and he ran straight to the six pine trees. The sun was still in bed, but there was a lightness in the sky over the hundred acre wood, which seemed to show that it was waking up and would soon be kicking off the clothes. In the half-light, the pine trees looked cold and lonely, and the very deep pit seemed deeper than it was. And Poo's jar of honey at the bottom was something mysterious, a shape and no more. But as he got nearer to it, his nose told him that it was indeed honey, and his tongue came out and began to polish up his mouth, ready for it.

Bother said Poo as he got his nose inside the jar. A half lump has been eating it. And then he thought a little and said, Oh, no, I did, I forgot.

Indeed. And then he thought a little and said, Oh, no, I did. I forgot. Indeed, he had eaten most of it. But there was a little left at the very bottom of the jar, and he pushed his head right in and began to lick. By and by, piglet woke up. As soon as he woke, he said to himself, oh, then he said bravely, yes, and then still more bravely, quite so. But he didn't feel very brave. For the word which was really jigging about in his brain was, Heffelumpse. What was a Heffelump like? Was it fierce? Did it come when you whistled?

And how did it come?

Was it fond of pigs at all?

If it was fond of pigs,

did it make any difference what sort of pig?

Supposing it was fierce with pigs.

Would it make any difference if the pig had a grandfather called Trespasser's William? He didn't know the answer to any of these questions, and he was going to see his first Heflump in about an hour from now. Of course, Poo would be with him, and it was much more friendly with two. But suppose Heffelump's were very fierce with pigs and bears, wouldn't it be better to pretend that he had a headache and couldn't go up to the six pine trees this morning? But then suppose that it was a very fine day and there was no half a lump in the trap. Here he would be and bed all the morning simply wasting his time for nothing. What should he do? And then he had a clever idea. He would go up very quietly to the six pine trees now, peep cautiously into the trap, and see if there was a hephalump there. And if there was, he would go back to bed, and if there wasn't, he wouldn't. So off he went. At first he thought that there wouldn't be a hephalump in the trap. And then he thought that there would. And as he got nearer, he was sure that there would, because he could hear it half-alumping about like anything. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" said Piglet to himself, and he wanted to run away.

But somehow, having got so near, he felt that he must just see what a hevelump was like. So he crept to the side of the trap and looked in.

And all the time, whenny the poo had been trying to get the honey jar off his head, the more he shook it, the more tightly it stuck. Father, he said inside the jar, and, oh, help! And mostly, ow! And he tried bumping it against things, but as he couldn't see what he was bumping it against, it didn't help. And he tried to climb out of the trap, but as he could see nothing but jar, and not much of that, he couldn't find his way. So it last, he lifted up his head, jar and all, and made a loud roaring noise of sadness and despair. And it was at that moment that Piglet looked down. Help! Help! Cryed Piglet? A Heavlump?

A horrible Heavlump!

And he scampered off as hard as he could. Help! cried Piglet. A Heavillump. A horrible Heavillump.

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