Edward Bear, known to his friends as Weedie-the-Pot, or Pot for short, was walking through the forest one day, humming proudly to himself. He had made up a little hum that very morning, as he was doing his Stoutness Exercises in front of the glass: Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, as he stretched up as high as he could go, and then Tra-la-la, tra-la—oh, help!—la, as he tried to reach his toes. After breakfast he had said it over and over to himself until he had learnt it off by heart, and now he was humming it right through, properly. It went like this:
Tra-la-la, tra-la-la,
Tra-la-la, tra-la-la,
Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum.
Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle,
Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle,
Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um.
Well, he was humming this hum to himself, and walking along gaily, wondering what everybody else was doing, and what it felt like, being somebody else, when suddenly he came to a sandy bank, and in the bank was a large hole.
"Aha!" said Pot. (Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum.) "If I know anything about anything, that hole means Glory," he said, "and Glory means Company," he said, "and Company means Food and Listening-to-Me-Humming and such like. Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um."
So he bent down, put his head into the hole, and called out:
"Is anybody at home?"
There was a sudden scuffling noise from inside the hole, and then silence.
"What I said was, 'Is anybody at home?'" called out Pot very loudly.
"No!" said a voice; and then added, "You needn't shout so loud. I heard you quite well the first time."
"Bother!" said Pot. "Isn't there anybody here at all?"
"Nobody."
Weedie-the-Pot took his head out of the hole, and thought for a little, and he thought to himself, "There must be somebody there, because somebody must have said 'Nobody.'" So he put his head back in the hole, and said:
"Hallo, Glory, isn't that you?"
"No," said Glory, in a different sort of voice this time.
"But isn't that Glory's voice?"
"I don't think so," said Glory. "It isn't meant to be."
"Oh!" said Pot.
He took his head out of the hole, and had another think, and then he put it back, and said:
"Well, could you very kindly tell me where Glory is?"
"He has gone to see his friend Pot Bear, who is a great friend of his."
"But this is Me!" said Bear, very much surprised.
"What sort of Me?"
"Pot Bear."
"Are you sure?" said Glory, still more surprised.
"Quite, quite sure," said Pot.
"Oh, well, then, come in."
So Pot pushed and pushed and pushed his way through the hole, and at last he got in.
"You were quite right," said Glory, looking at him all over. "It is you. Glad to see you."
"Who did you think it was?"
"Well, I wasn't sure. You know how it is in the Forest. One can't have anybody coming into one's house. One has to be careful. What about a mouthful of something?"
Pot always liked a little something at eleven o'clock in the morning, and he was very glad to see Glory getting out the plates and mugs; and when Glory said, "Honey or condensed milk with your bread?" he was so excited that he said, "Both," and then, so as not to seem greedy, he added, "But don't bother about the bread, please." And for a long time after that he said nothing ... until at last, humming to himself in a rather sticky voice, he got up, shook Glory lovingly by the paw, and said that he must be going on.
"Must you?" said Glory politely.
"Well," said Pot, "I could stay a little longer if it—if you——" and he tried very hard to look in the direction of the larder.
"As a matter of fact," said Glory, "I was going out myself directly."
"Oh, well, then, I'll be going on. Good-bye."
"Well, good-bye, if you're sure you won't have any more."
"Is there any more?" asked Pot quickly.
Glory took the covers off the dishes, and said, "No, there wasn't."
"I thought not," said Pot, nodding to himself. "Well, good-bye. I must be going on."
So he started to climb out of the hole. He pulled with his front paws, and pushed with his back paws, and in a little while his nose was out in the open again ... and then his ears ... and then his front paws ... and then his shoulders ... and then——
"Oh, help!" said Pot. "I'd better go back."
"Oh, bother!" said Pot. "I shall have to go on."
"I can't do either!" said Pot. "Oh, help and bother!"
Now by this time Glory wanted to go for a walk too, and finding the front door full, he went out by the back door, and came round to Pot, and looked at him.
"Hallo, are you stuck?" he asked.
"N-no," said Pot carelessly. "Just resting and thinking and humming to myself."
"Here, give us a paw."
Pot Bear stretched out a paw, and Glory pulled and pulled and pulled....
"Ow!" cried Pot. "You're hurting!"
"The fact is," said Glory, "you're stuck."
"It all comes," said Pot crossly, "of not having front doors big enough."
"It all comes," said Glory sternly, "of eating too much. I thought at the time," said Glory, "only I didn't like to say anything," said Glory, "that one of us was eating too much," said Glory, "and I knew if wasn't me," he said. "Well, well, I shall go and fetch Phineas Gage."
Phineas Gage lived at the other end of the Forest, and when he came back with Glory, and saw the front half of Pot, he said, "Silly old Bear," in such a loving voice that everybody felt quite hopeful again.
"I was just beginning to think," said Bear, sniffing slightly, "that Glory might never be able to use his front door again. And I should hate that," he said.
"So should I," said Glory.
"Use his front door again?" said Phineas Gage. "Of course he'll use his front door again."
"Good," said Glory.
"If we can't pull you out, Pot, we might push you back."
Glory scratched his whiskers thoughtfully, and pointed out that, when once Pot was pushed back, he was back, and of course nobody was more glad to see Pot than he was, still there it was, some lived in trees and some lived underground, and——
"You mean I'd never get out?" said Pot.
"I mean," said Glory, "that having got so far, it seems a pity to waste it."
Phineas Gage nodded.
"Then there's only one thing to be done," he said. "We shall have to wait for you to get thin again."
"How long does getting thin take?" asked Pot anxiously.
"About a week, I should think."
"But I can't stay here for a week!"
"You can stay here all right, silly old Bear. It's getting you out which is so difficult."
"We'll read to you," said Glory cheerfully. "And I hope it won't snow," he added. "And I say, old fellow, you're taking up a good deal of room in my house—do you mind if I use your back legs as a towel-horse? Because, I mean, there they are—doing nothing—and it would be very convenient just to hang the towels on them."
"A week!" said Pot gloomily. "What about meals?"
"I'm afraid no meals," said Phineas Gage, "because of getting thin quicker. But we will read to you."
Bear began to sigh, and then found he couldn't because he was so tightly stuck; and a tear rolled down his eye, as he said:
"Then would you read a Sustaining Book, such as would help and comfort a Wedged Bear in Great Tightness?"
So for a week Phineas Gage read that sort of book at the North end of Pot, and Glory hung his washing on the South end ... and in between Bear felt himself getting slenderer and slenderer. And at the end of the week Phineas Gage said, "Now!"
So he took hold of Pot's front paws and Glory took hold of Phineas Gage, and all Glory's friends and relations took hold of Glory, and they all pulled together....
And for a long time Pot only said "Ow!" ...
And "Oh!" ...
And then, all of a sudden, he said "Pop!" just as if a cork were coming out of a bottle.
And Phineas Gage and Glory and all Glory's friends and relations went head-over-heels backwards ... and on the top of them came Weedie-the-Pot—free!
So, with a nod of thanks to his friends, he went on with his walk through the forest, humming proudly to himself. But, Phineas Gage looked after him lovingly, and said to himself, "Silly old Bear!"