Disclaimer- I do not own M*A*S*H or any of its characters. The Story that is in the fic, belongs to A. A. Milne, Author of 'The House At Pooh Corner' Original copyright 1928, then again in 1956, then again in 1991. I am using The Colour Edition of The House At Pooh Corner' which was written in 1956. I'm only doing the first chapter. Called 'In Which A House Is Built at Pooh Corner for Eeyore' I've only taken till page 12, in my book.
A Little Taste of Heaven
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By Assilem
Somewhere over America
August 1958
As Margaret Houlihan sat looking out the window of the plane, she glanced down at the toddler sitting on her lap sleeping. She tightened her grip on the two-year-old, and watched the curly blonde hair beauty sleep. After a few minutes the little girl woke up. She smiled at her mother.
"Hi Mommy."
"Hi Baby Girl. Did you have a good nap?" The little girl nodded.
"Mommy read story?"
"Sure." Margaret answered pulling a book out from the bag that sat next to her. "One Day when Pooh Bear had nothing else to do, he thought he would so something, so he went around to Piglet's house to see what Piglet was doing."
"I wike Piglet, Mommy." The little girl smiled.
"I know you do." Margaret smiled. "It was still snowing as he stumped over the white forest track, and he expected to ding Piglet warming his toes in the front of his fire, but to his surpise he saw that the door was open, and the more he looked inside the more Piglet wasn't there."
"Where Piglet go?"
"Let's find out." Margaret said excitedly to amuse the little girl. ""He's out," said Pooh sadly. "That's what it is. He's not in. I shall have to ho a fast Thinking Walk by myself. Bother!""
"Piglet gone, and Pooh sad."
"That's right." Margaret smiled, then continued. "But first he thought that he would knock very loudly just
to make quite sure⦠and while he waited for Piglet not to answer, he jumped up and down to keep warm, and a hum suddenly into his head, which seemed o him a Good Hum, such as is Hummed Hopeful to Others." Margaret paused. "You want to sing the song?"
"Yeah!" The little girl exclaimed. "Tiddy pom 'ight?"
"Tiddely pom." Margaret corrected. "The more it snows."
"Tiddy pom"
"The more it goes."
"Tiddy pom"
"On snowing. And nobody knows"
"Tiddy pom"
"How cold my toes."
"Tiddy pom"
"How cold my toes"
"Tiddy pom"
"Are growing."
"Yay!" The toddler exclaimed clapping her hands together. Margaret laughed at the little girl, and then continued.
""So what I'll do," said Pooh, "is I'll do this. I'll just go home first and see what the time is, and perhaps I'll put a muffler round my neck, and then I'll go and see Eeyore and sing to him." He hurried back to his own house; and his mind was so busy on the way with the hum that he was getting ready for Eeyore that, when he suddenly saw Piglet sitting in his best arm-chair, he could only stand there rubbing his head and wondering whose house he was in."
"Piglet at Pooh house?"
"I think he is, do you want to find out?" The little girl nodded yes, with her blonde curls bouncing on her shoulder. ""Hallo, Piglet," he said. "I thought you were out." "No," said Piglet, "it's you who were out, Pooh." "So it was," said Pooh. "I knew on of us was.""
"Pooh out, Piglet in, at Pooh's."
"That's right. Pooh went to go see Piglet, but Piglet went to see Pooh." Margaret smiled then turned back to her book. "He looked at his clock, which has stopped at five minutes to eleven some weeks ago. "Nearly eleven o'clock," said Pooh happily. "You're just in time for a smackerel of something," and he put his head into he cupboard, "And then we'll go out, Piglet, and sing my song to Eeyore." "Which song, Pooh?" "The one we're going to sing to Eeyore," explained Pooh. The clock was still saying five minutes to eleven when Pooh and Piglet set out on their way half an hour later. The wind had dropped, and the snow, tired of rushing round in circles trying to catch itself up, now fluttered gently down until it found a place on which to rest, and sometimes the place was Pooh's nose and sometimes it wasn't, and in a little while Piglet was wearing a white muffler round his neck and feeling more snowy behind the ears than he had ever felt before."
"Snow, 'ight?"
"That's right. You like to play in the snow, don't you?"
"Yep."
Margaret smiled then turned back to the book. ""Pooh," he said at last, and a little timidly, because he
didn't want Pooh to think he was Giving In, "I was just wondering. How would it be if we went home now, and practised your song, and then sang it to Eeyore to-morrow-or-or the next day, when we happen to see him" "That's a very good idea, Piglet," said Pooh. "We'll practise it now as we go along, But it's no good going home to practise it, because it's a special Outdoor Song, which Has To Be Sung In The Snow." "Are you sure?" asked Piglet anxiously. "Well, you'll see, Piglet, when you listen. Because this is how it begins. The more it snows, tiddley pom-" "Tiddely what?" said Piglet.
"POM!" The little girl exclaimed.
"That's right." Margaret smiled. ""Pom," said Pooh. "I put that in to make it more hummy. The more it goes, tiddely pom, the more------" "Did you say snows?" "Yes, but that was before." "Before the tiddely pom?" "It was different tiddely pom," said Pooh, feeling rather muddled now. "I'll sing it to you properly and then you'll see." So he sang it again."
"I help?"
"Sure, what do you say?"
"Tiddely pom!" The little girl clapped. Margaret smiled.
"The more it SNOWS-"
"Tiddely-pom,"
"The more it GOES-"
"Tiddely-pom,"
"The more it GOES-"
"Tiddely-pom,"
"On Snowing. And nobody KNOWS-"
"Tiddely-pom,"
"How cold my TOES-"
"Tiddely-pom,"
"How cold my TOES-"
"Tiddely-pom,"
"Are Growing."
"YAY!" The little girl clapped excitedly. Margaret smiled once more, and hugged the little girl closer.
"He sang it like that, which is much the best way of singing it, and when he had finished, he waited for Piglet to say that, of all the Outdoor Hums for Snowy Weather he had ever heard, this was the best. And, after thinking the matter out carefully, Piglet said: "Pooh," he said solemnly, "it isn't the toes so much as the ears."
"Piglet's ear cold." The little girl added with a smile.
Margaret smiled and continued. "By this time they were getting near Eeyore's Gloomy Place, which was where he lived, and as it was still getting very snowy behind Piglet's ears, and he was getting tired of it, they turned into a little pine wood, and sat down on the gate which led into it. They were out of the snow now, but it was very cold, and to keep themselves warm they sang Pooh's song right through six times,"
"Tiddely pom song, 'ight?"
"That's right, baby girl." Margaret smiled. "Piglet was doing a tiddely-poms and Pooh doing the rest of it, and both of them thumping on the top of the gate with pieces of stick at the proper places. And in a little while they felt much warmer, and we able to talk again. "I've been thinking," said Pooh, "and what I've been thinking is this. I've been thinking about Eeyore." "What about Eeyore?" "Well, poor Eeyore has nowhere to live." "Nor he has," said Piglet. "You have a house, Piglet, and I have a house, and they are very good houses. And Christopher Robin has a house, and Owl, and Kanga, and Rabbit have houses, and even Rabbit's friends and relations have houses or something's, but poor Eeyore has nothing. So what I've been thinking is: Let's build him a house."
"A 'ouse, cause Eeyore, got no home."
"No he doesn't. Not like me and you."
"We have 'ouse."
"That's right." Margaret said with a soft voice. ""That," said Piglet, "is a Grand Idea. Where shall we build it?" "We will build it here," said Pooh, "just by this wood, out of the wind, because this is where I thought of it. And we will call this Pooh Corner. And we will build an Eeyore House with sticks at Pooh Corner for Eeyore." "There was a heap of sticks on the other side of the wood," said Piglet. "I saw them. Lots and lots. All piled up." "Thank you, Piglet," said Pooh. "What you have just said will be a Great Help to us, and because of it I could call this Poohandpiglet Corner if Pooh Corner didn't sound better, which it does, being small and more like a corner. Come along." So they go down off the gate and went around to the other side of the wood to fetch the sticks. Christopher Robin had spent the morning indoors going to Africa and back, and he had just got off the boat and was wondering what it was like outside, when who should come knocking at the but Eeyore."
"Eeyore come!"
"That's right." Margaret smiled at he daughter's excitement. ""Hallo, Eeyore," said Christopher Robin, as he opened the door and came out. "How are you?" "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 has a earthquake lately." "What's the matter, Eeyore?" "Nothing, Christopher Robin. Nothing important. I suppose you haven't seen a house or whatnot anywhere about?" "What sort of house?" "Just a house." "Who lives there?" "I do. At least I thought I did. But I suppose I don't. After all, we cant all have houses." "But Eeyore, I didn't know. I always thought----"
"Mommy I gotta go potty."
"Come on." Margaret said as she stood up. Taking the toddler's hand in her own, and leading her to the bathroom. After the little girl was done, she dragged her mother back to their seats to finish the story. Margaret entertained the little girl until they got to Portland.
