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It was a brisk and busy spring day in the Hundred Acre Wood. The sky was blue and the clouds were perfectly white and fluffy as they slid across the sky. Lower down, the wind was just right for making the leaves rustle and everybody move just a little more quickly than they ordinarily would.
Rabbit felt especially organised and purposeful. He vigorously shook out his favourite blue striped rug and draped it over his clotheshorse to air before heading back inside for his favourite red polka dot rug. He was in the mood for cleaning and shaking and making and mending, and he had Pooh and Piglet coming for afternoon tea.
Today was a good day. An enthusiastically organised kind of a day. Sweeping out the corners, Rabbit hummed a little song to himself and gathered up all the dust to take outside and shake away on the wind. His burrow was clean, and the breeze through the window made the curtains flutter and spread the smell of fresh flowers and springtime inside.
He finished up his humming as he reached the door to his burrow, looking around one last time in satisfaction, little knowing the danger he was letting himself in for by venturing outside. The garden gate had just been opened by Tigger and Roo, laden down with sandwiches for afternoon tea and a sense of adventure.
As Rabbit hopped out onto his doormat, a crash stopped him in his tracks, but not soon enough to avoid a collision that knocked him over and sent him, the dustpan, and all the dust, flying. Coughing, Rabbit looked up into Tigger's face.
"Look what you made me do," said Rabbit. "Dust everywhere!" He sneezed to punctuate his complaint. Springing to his feet, he started to dust himself off.
"Let me help," said Tigger. "Tiggers are good at helping." He moved forward, paws outstretched to help. Poor Rabbit did look so very dusty and uncomfortable.
"No, no," fussed Rabbit, "stay back, I can dust myself off." He twisted to get out of the way of Tigger's well-meaning, but clumsy, paws. Tigger followed, intent on being helpful. They danced together for a moment on Rabbit's doorstep, before the inevitable happened and they both went over in a cloud of dust and the ominous crunch of something breaking. Roo's excited squeaking was the only applause.
Rabbit got to his feet, breathing hard. Tigger bounced up, not even looking winded, and prudently retired out of arm's reach. Rabbit was a good sort of a fellow, but a little hasty sometimes when small accidents of this type happened. As he watched Rabbit take in the damage to himself and the potted plant they had knocked over, Tigger retreated even further, getting behind Roo just in case. Rabbit was unlikely to steamroller over Roo just to get to Tigger.
"Ah, we can help tidy that up, can't we, Roo?" Tigger said, eyeing Rabbit nervously.
"Oh yes, I can tidy really well," said Roo. He tried to edge out from in front of Tigger, but Tigger hooked his paws into the back of Roo's jacket to hold him still. Roo tried to look innocent and squirmed to the side as much as he could.
Rabbit put his hand to his forehead. He'd been feeling so full of frisk and dash this morning too, and now he was covered in dust, soil, and (he extracted a shard from the fur on his bottom), bits of his favourite potted geranium. He looked at Tigger as he tried, and failed, to look small and remorseful behind Roo.
"I do not want your help!" Rabbit said. It sounded shrill and hysterical even to his own ears, but he continued anyway. "You cause nothing but trouble, Tigger. Too much bouncing, not enough thinking!"
Tigger opened his mouth to try to defend himself, but Rabbit blustered on regardless. "Just rush, rush, rush without caring about anything but yourself! Go away! Shoo!"
With that, he flounced inside to find his broom, full of righteous indignation. Tigger was always too busy galumphing about and bouncing and having fun, and he never considered other people, never. Rabbit stamped back outside to the ruins of his geranium and started sweeping up the soil. Despite his anger, his paws were careful on the plant, lifting it tenderly from under the ruined pot and straightening its leaves. He hoped he could rescue it.
Tigger and Roo had hurried away as the noise of Rabbit throwing things around inside his burrow had started. Tigger didn't say anything until they paused for breath under a tree. He was ready to make a joke and laugh about falling over Rabbit, but Roo's face was unusually serious.
"Rabbit was really upset," Roo said.
"Not at all," blustered Tigger. "Just fun and games." Roo didn't say anything. Tigger knew that Roo didn't blame him, but he felt a little guilty all the same. It had been his idea to sneak in the garden gate and wait at the door to bounce him. He certainly hadn't intended to knock him over - twice - and break his plant.
"How about a snack?" Tigger asked. Perhaps he was feeling guilty because he was hungry.
"I have jam sandwiches," said Roo. "Do you think Rabbit was upset?"
"No, not really. It was just a little bounce. Where are my sandwiches?"
"In your satchel. I think it was a quite big bounce. Rabbit didn't like it, especially the last one."
"Well, yes, he didn't like the last one because of the broken pot. No one likes pottery in their fur. I can't find them, are you sure?"
"Yes," said Roo, "I saw Kanga put them in there. I don't think Rabbit likes being bounced at all." He'd been thinking that for a while. Rabbit liked things to be nice and orderly. He had mostly stopped trying to make Roo and Tigger neat and orderly, but Tigger still bounced him. Roo wasn't sure that was fair.
"I can't find them. They must have fallen out." Tigger looked up at Roo. "I must have dropped them at Rabbit's house."
"Go back and ask for them, then," said Roo. He took a big bite of his first sandwich.
"I can't," said Tigger. "He'll still be angry with me."
"But you said it was just a little bounce and he wasn't upset."
Tigger sometimes wished that Roo was not quite so literal. His guilty feelings were getting stronger, and looking at Roo chewing happily on his sandwich was making him actually hungry as well. He must have been being careless back at Rabbit's house, bouncing around so hard that he didn't even notice his sandwiches falling out of his satchel.
"You can have some of mine," said Roo, holding out his half-eaten sandwich. Tigger shuddered. He didn't like jam.
"There's only one thing for it," said Tigger. "We will have to do something stupendous and amazing so that Rabbit will forgive us."
"I don't need Rabbit to forgive me," said Roo. "I didn't knock him over - twice - and break his plant."
Tigger ignored him. He knew that he'd be able to think of the perfect solution. There had to be something that would make Rabbit happy and help him get back his snack. Then Rabbit would have to forgive him, and Tigger could stop feeling bad.
Meanwhile, Rabbit had finally gotten the doorstep looking tidy again, with all the pot pieces swept up and the plant potted up again, a little the worse for wear, but already cheerfully drinking up as much sunlight as it could to recover on the kitchen windowsill.
Brushing off his paws one last time, Rabbit put on his apron and crossed to the cupboard to get out his ingredients. The oven was heating up nicely. He was going to start with Pooh's favourite honey cake, so that the special honey syrup had time to soak in before they sat down to eat.
The bench and table filled up with ingredients: flour, sugar, baking powder, Piglet's favourite acorns, butter and spices. Rabbit looked at them and frowned. Something was missing. He went through each recipe again, starting with Piglet's favourite date and acorn loaf. Then he realised: he didn't have any honey.
Rabbit's heart sank. No honey! The cake was going to be the centrepiece of his table. He had imagined it all that morning as he had cleaned and swept, how Pooh would be amazed and delighted by all the effort Rabbit had gone to. And now? Nothing!
He looked at the time and his heart sank. He could have gone and got some, but all the tidying and cleaning he'd done - especially all the extra cleaning - had eaten into the day too much. He was going to have to make do without it. Ears drooping sadly, Rabbit tipped dates into a pot for Piglet's loaf and added the water and baking soda. At least he could still bake some things, he consoled himself, even if he didn't have honey.
He put the pot on the stove and waited for it to heat up. As the water slowly warmed, he turned over in his head impossible scenarios for getting the honey he needed. He'd been too busy cleaning and organising, while he should have been worrying about the important things: his friends were coming to see him, not his perfect doorstep.
Staring out the window, Rabbit considered his options. His eyes lighted on the little geranium. If only he'd accepted Tigger and Roo's offer of help. It might have ended well, if he'd listened to their apologies and let them clean up. At least he would have had time to get more honey. He shook his head to clear it. He was going to have to make do. The water on the stove started bubbling gently and he stirred it again, doing his best to concentrate on the things he had to do.
Back in the clearing, Tigger had thought up and discarded any number of famous schemes. Roo had eaten his way through his jam sandwich and was making a daisy chain. Tigger had hoped to convince Roo that his schemes were fantastic, but they all sounded improbable, even to his own ears. Roo looked up from weaving the last daisy into place.
"If you really want to make it up to Rabbit," he said, "you should give him something that he needs. Rabbit isn't really into extravagant schemes, you know."
"Yes, but what?" demanded Tigger. As he popped the daisy chain on and settled it around his ears, Roo considered.
"Aren't Pooh and Piglet going there for afternoon tea?" he asked. "Mama always says that Pooh guzzles honey something terrible and no one can ever have enough honey when they are friends with Pooh."
"Roo! You're right! You are the cleverest and bestest friend that ever there was!" Tigger did a happy little jumping dance that ended with both of them covered in dirt under a berry bush. He bounced to his feet, helped Roo up, and straightened his daisy chain. "Honey is perfect," he said happily. "Do you think Kanga would mind if we took just one jar of honey from her pantry?"
"Yes," said Roo, "I think she would. Remember last time, when she said-"
"Yes, yes," interrupted Tigger, who did indeed remember last time, and did not want a repeat of the incident. "We'll have to see Christopher Robin."
"I love Christopher Robin," said Roo. "Let's go!"
Some time later, Rabbit removed the date and acorn loaves from the oven and put them on the windowsill to cool in the breeze. They smelled delicious. He turned back to deal with the muffins when there was a clatter and the unmistakable sound of something being knocked over outside. He looked at the clock and frowned. Surely Pooh and Piglet couldn't be here yet.
Outside, Tigger and Roo waited for Rabbit to come outside. Tigger hoped he hadn't heard the small incident with the rake, which had been an accident. Roo hoped Tigger wouldn't try to hide behind him again if Rabbit had heard Tigger bounce into the rake and knock it, and a bucket, and himself, over.
As Rabbit emerged, Tigger held out the jar of Christopher Robin's best honey. Rabbit looked tired and had flour on his apron and on his face. Tigger didn't have time to say anything as Rabbit's face broke into a giant smile and he launched himself at Tigger. They went over in a jumble of paws and rolled into the fallen bucket and rake. Tigger was impressed. That had been a most masterly bounce, almost worthy of a Tigger!
Rabbit wrestled the honey out of Tigger's paws and got to his feet. It was the luckiest moment of his day and he beamed at Roo, Tigger and the honey all together. He didn't even care that his rake and bucket had been sent flying, and he completely forgot that he'd wished to never see Tigger again.
"We got you honey," said Tigger, "to say sorry."
"To say sorry from Tigger," clarified Roo.
"Thank you!" said Rabbit, holding out a paw to help Tigger up. "I needed honey, and I should have let you help me earlier." Tigger heaved on him and they nearly went flying again, but Rabbit managed to get him to his feet and steady.
"Would you like to come to afternoon tea?" Rabbit asked. "Since your honey will ensure I can finish it just right."
"Tiggers love afternoon tea," said Tigger.
"Me too," said Roo.
"That will be excellent," said Rabbit. He hugged the honey to himself again. "Don't be late," he called, as he rushed back inside to sort out his baking. He was going to make honey cake and everything would be alright.
Bustling around, Rabbit mixed the batter for the cake. The spring breeze was blowing again and it seemed like a good day to be full of frisk and organisation. He mixed and baked and cooled, he laid the table with a large cloth, and got out extra napkins. When Pooh Bear was visiting, it was best to be prepared for stickiness. On the table went knives and butter, and a stack of plates all in spring patterns.
Muffins went onto a serving plate, and the date and acorn loaf was on a board with the bread knife. As Rabbit turned back to the stove to check on his last item, there was a small scuffle outside, followed by a knock.
Tigger and Roo held out a handful of flowers each. Tigger's handful was bigger, but Roo had managed to corral them in his paws more neatly.
"Come in," said Rabbit. "I'll get a vase, and can you please put them in while I finish with the food?"
"Of course," replied Tigger. "Tiggers are good at dealing with flowers. I'll have these arranged in no time." Rabbit got his least favourite vase down, just in case, and Roo resolved to keep a very close eye on the arranging process.
Pooh and Piglet came to the door just as Tigger set the vase on the table and Roo put an extra cushion on his chair. They all sat down and turned expectantly towards Rabbit as he brought over the honey cake on his best cake stand. It was still warm, but the syrup had soaked in and it smelled delicious.
"Just wait," said Rabbit, "there's one more thing." He went back to the windowsill and took down the last pan that was waiting there. He turned it out onto a board. Carefully carrying it back to the table, he smiled as Tigger whooped with glee and bounced in his chair.
"Malt loaf, for you," Rabbit said. Tigger clapped his hands and bounced just a little too far. As he rolled off his chair and onto the floor, Rabbit stepped nimbly out of the way and put the loaf on the table. Tigger bounced to his feet.
"I didn't knock the table over," he said proudly.
"Indeed, you didn't," agreed Rabbit. He cut Tigger the first slice of loaf and watched him slather it with butter. All his friends were round the table, saluting his effort with the clink of plates and the sort of polite noises people make when trying not to shove their entire, delicious pawful of food straight into their mouth. Rabbit beamed. Today had been a busy day, but the wind outside was gentling as Rabbit sat down and joined his friends.