It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
"So it is."
"And freezing."
"Is it?"
"Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately.

What day is it?"
It's today," squeaked Piglet.
My favorite day," said Pooh.

The wind was against them now, and Piglet's ears streamed behind him like banners as he fought his way along, and it seemed hours before he got them into the shelter of the Hundred Acre Wood and they stood up straight again, to listen, a little nervously, to the roaring of the gale among the treetops.
'Supposing a tree fell down, Pooh, when we were underneath it?'
'Supposing it didn't,' said Pooh after careful thought.

Pooh," said Rabbit kindly, "you haven't any brain."
"I know," said Pooh humbly.

In a very little time they got to the corner of the field by the side of the pine wood where Eeyore's house wasn't any longer.
'There!' said Eeyore. 'Not a stick of it left! Of course, I've still got all this snow to do what I like with. One mustn't complain.

Think, think, think.