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Eeyore Loses A Tail:E198

Eeyore Loses a Tail

Eeyore Loses A Tail:E198

When Eeyore discovers his tail is missing, he has to hunt it down and discovers it in a most surprising place.  A beloved classic from A. A. Milne.  (duration 10 minutes) An episode from Journey with Story, a storytelling podcast for kids ages 4-10.

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Discover How Eeyore Finds His Lost Tail 

Where is Eeyore’s Tail? Listen to this Classic Tale from A. A. Milne and Find Out

Episode 198

September 22,2022

If you were to lose something that was very, very important to you, what would you do to try and get it back?  Has that ever actually happened to you – that you lost something and then were able to get it back?  How did you do that? 

 

Hello everyone. I’m Kathleen Pelley.  Welcome to Journey with Story.  Today’s episode is about a donkey called Eeyore who loses – his tail of all things!  I am sure many of you are familiar with Eeyore who is one of the characters in the famous  story of Winnie the Pooh by A. A. Milne and so this is one of the chapters from that book. 

 

 Before we begin- don’t forget to send us your drawings inspired by our episodes and do please keep rating, reviewing and sharing this podcast with others.  Thanks again to all of our loyal patreon subscribers –hope you are enjoying our weekly coloring sheets. 

 

Now let’s take a journey with Eeyore Loses a Tail by A. A. Milne 

                            

 

The Old Grey Donkey, Eeyore, stood by himself in a thistly corner of 

the forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought 

about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, “Why?” and 

sometimes he thought, “Wherefore?” and sometimes he thought, “Inasmuch 

as which?”–and sometimes he didn’t quite know what he _was_ thinking 

about. So when Winnie-the-Pooh came stumping along, Eeyore was very glad 

to be able to stop thinking for a little, in order to say “How do you 

do?” in a gloomy manner to him. 

 

“And how are you?” said Winnie-the-Pooh. 

 

Eeyore shook his head from side to side. 

 

“Not very how,” he said. “I don’t seem to have felt at all how for a 

long time.” 

 

“Dear, dear,” said Pooh, “I’m sorry about that. Let’s have a look at 

you.” 

 

So Eeyore stood there, gazing sadly at the ground, and Winnie-the-Pooh 

walked all round him once. 

 

“Why, what’s happened to your tail?” he said in surprise. 

 

“What _has_ happened to it?” said Eeyore. 

 

“It isn’t there!” 

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

“Well, either a tail _is_ there or it isn’t there. You can’t make a 

mistake about it. And yours _isn’t_ there!” 

 

“Then what is?” 

 

“Nothing.” 

 

“Let’s have a look,” said Eeyore, and he turned slowly round to the 

place where his tail had been a little while ago, and then, finding that 

he couldn’t catch it up, he turned round the other way, until he came 

back to where he was at first, and then he put his head down and looked 

between his front legs, and at last he said, with a long, sad sigh, “I 

believe you’re right.” 

 

“Of course I’m right,” said Pooh. 

 

“That Accounts for a Good Deal,” said Eeyore gloomily. “It Explains 

Everything. No Wonder.” 

 

“You must have left it somewhere,” said Winnie-the-Pooh. 

 

“Somebody must have taken it,” said Eeyore. “How Like Them,” he added, 

after a long silence. 

 

Pooh felt that he ought to say something helpful about it, but didn’t 

quite know what. So he decided to do something helpful instead. 

 

“Eeyore,” he said solemnly, “I, Winnie-the-Pooh, will find your tail for 

you.” 

 

“Thank you, Pooh,” answered Eeyore. “You’re a real friend,” said he. 

“Not like Some,” he said. 

 

So Winnie-the-Pooh went off to find Eeyore’s tail. 

 

It was a fine spring morning in the forest as he started out. Little 

soft clouds played happily in a blue sky, skipping from time to time in 

front of the sun as if they had come to put it out, and then sliding 

away suddenly so that the next might have his turn. Through them and 

between them the sun shone bravely; and a copse which had worn its firs 

all the year round seemed old and dowdy now beside the new green lace 

which the beeches had put on so prettily. Through copse and spinney 

marched Bear; down open slopes of gorse and heather, over rocky beds of 

streams, up steep banks of sandstone into the heather again; and so at 

last, tired and hungry, to the Hundred Acre Wood. For it was in the 

Hundred Acre Wood that Owl lived. 

 

“And if anyone knows anything about anything,” said Bear to himself, 

“it’s Owl who knows something about something,” he said, “or my name’s 

not Winnie-the-Pooh,” he said. “Which it is,” he added. “So there you 

are.” 

 

Owl lived at The Chestnuts, an old-world residence of great charm, which 

was grander than anybody else’s, or seemed so to Bear, because it had 

both a knocker _and_ a bell-pull. Underneath the knocker there was a 

notice which said: 

 

                   PLES RING IF AN RNSER IS REQIRD. 

 

Underneath the bell-pull there was a notice which said: 

 

                  PLEZ CNOKE IF AN RNSR IS NOT REQID. 

 

These notices had been written by Christopher Robin, who was the only 

one in the forest who could spell; for Owl, wise though he was in many 

ways, able to read and write and spell his own name WOL, yet somehow 

went all to pieces over delicate words like MEASLES and BUTTEREDTOAST. 

 

Winnie-the-Pooh read the two notices very carefully, first from left to 

right, and afterwards, in case he had missed some of it, from right to 

left. Then, to make quite sure, he knocked and pulled the knocker, and 

he pulled and knocked the bell-rope, and he called out in a very loud 

voice, “Owl! I require an answer! It’s Bear speaking.” And the door 

opened, and Owl looked out. 

 

“Hallo, Pooh,” he said. “How’s things?” 

 

“Terrible and Sad,” said Pooh, “because Eeyore, who is a friend of mine, 

has lost his tail. And he’s Moping about it. So could you very kindly 

tell me how to find it for him?” 

 

“Well,” said Owl, “the customary procedure in such cases is as follows.” 

 

“What does Crustimoney Proseedcake mean?” said Pooh. “For I am a Bear of 

Very Little Brain, and long words Bother me.” 

 

“It means the Thing to Do.” 

 

“As long as it means that, I don’t mind,” said Pooh humbly. 

 

“The thing to do is as follows. First, Issue a Reward. Then—-“ 

 

“Just a moment,” said Pooh, holding up his paw. “_What_ do we do to 

this–what you were saying? You sneezed just as you were going to tell 

me.” 

 

“I _didn’t_ sneeze.” 

 

“Yes, you did, Owl.” 

 

“Excuse me, Pooh, I didn’t. You can’t sneeze without knowing it.” 

 

“Well, you can’t know it without something having been sneezed.” 

 

“What I _said_ was, ‘First _Issue_ a Reward’.” 

 

“You’re doing it again,” said Pooh sadly. 

 

“A Reward!” said Owl very loudly. “We write a notice to say that we will 

give a large something to anybody who finds Eeyore’s tail.” 

 

“I see, I see,” said Pooh, nodding his head. “Talking about large 

somethings,” he went on dreamily, “I generally have a small something 

about now–about this time in the morning,” and he looked wistfully at 

the cupboard in the corner of Owl’s parlour; “just a mouthful of 

condensed milk or whatnot, with perhaps a lick of honey—-“ 

 

“Well, then,” said Owl, “we write out this notice, and we put it up all 

over the forest.” 

 

“A lick of honey,” murmured Bear to himself, “or–or not, as the case 

may be.” And he gave a deep sigh, and tried very hard to listen to what 

Owl was saying. 

 

But Owl went on and on, using longer and longer words, until at last he 

came back to where he started, and he explained that the person to write 

out this notice was Christopher Robin. 

 

“It was he who wrote the ones on my front door for me. Did you see them, 

Pooh?” 

 

For some time now Pooh had been saying “Yes” and “No” in turn, with his 

eyes shut, to all that Owl was saying, and having said, “Yes, yes,” last 

time, he said “No, not at all,” now, without really knowing what Owl was 

talking about. 

 

“Didn’t you see them?” said Owl, a little surprised. “Come and look at 

them now.” 

 

So they went outside. And Pooh looked at the knocker and the notice 

below it, and he looked at the bell-rope and the notice below it, and 

the more he looked at the bell-rope, the more he felt that he had seen 

something like it, somewhere else, sometime before. 

 

“Handsome bell-rope, isn’t it?” said Owl. 

 

Pooh nodded. 

 

“It reminds me of something,” he said, “but I can’t think what. Where 

did you get it?” 

 

“I just came across it in the Forest. It was hanging over a bush, and I 

thought at first somebody lived there, so I rang it, and nothing 

happened, and then I rang it again very loudly, and it came off in my 

hand, and as nobody seemed to want it, I took it home, and—-“ 

 

“Owl,” said Pooh solemnly, “you made a mistake. Somebody did want it.” 

 

“Who?” 

 

“Eeyore. My dear friend Eeyore. He was–he was fond of it.” 

 

“Fond of it?” 

 

“Attached to it,” said Winnie-the-Pooh sadly. 

 

                 *        *        *        *        * 

 

So with these words he unhooked it, and carried it back to Eeyore; and 

when Christopher Robin had nailed it on in its right place again, Eeyore 

frisked about the forest, waving his tail so happily that 

Winnie-the-Pooh came over all funny, and had to hurry home for a little 

snack of something to sustain him. And, wiping his mouth half an hour 

afterwards, he sang to himself proudly: 

 

    _Who found the Tail?_ 

      “I,” said Pooh, 

    “At a quarter to two 

      (Only it was quarter to eleven really), 

    _I_ found the Tail!” 

 

So glad that poor Eeyore got his tail back –would be dreadful for an animal to lose his tail.  I wonder what is something that you would miss the most if you were to lose it?  Maybe you could write your own story about someone who loses something and how he or she finds it again.  And remember keep sending us your drawings and reviews so we can share with others. 

 

Cheerio then, join me next time for Journey with Story. 

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