THREE CHEERS FOR POOH!

Whether or not you remember – even hold as beloved – those childhood immortals Winnie-the-Pooh and Christopher Robin before they were appropriated by Walt Disney back in 1966, I think you'll enjoy Enchanted Places, a double-CD recording of A. A. Milne's verses (and Pooh's inimitable 'Hums') from the quartet of nursery classics: When We Were Very Young, Winnie-the-Pooh, Now We Are Six and The House at Pooh Corner – all of them accompanied by irreplaceable decorations by the magnificent Ernest H. Shepard.

 

Today, however, I guess there many Pooh-lovers who will be unfamiliar with the musical settings that were composed during the height of Mr. Milne's public popularity; although if you mention titles like 'They're Changing Guard at Buckingham Palace', 'Hush, Hush, Whisper Who Dares (Christopher Robin is Saying His Prayers)', 'Halfway Down the Stairs' and 'Cottleston Pie', then you may recall having heard them sung by performers as diverse as Gracie Fields, Robert Tear, David Tomlinson and Burl Ives – not to mention Robin and Rowlf from The Muppets!

 

The music was the work of H. Fraser-Simson, a popular composer of British light music and the long-running operetta, The Maid of the Mountains, and these delightful settings that have endured for almost 100 years and are now available on this new double-CD – the first-ever complete recording of the Milne/Fraser-Simson collaboration – released by EM Records.

 

The songs are performed by baritone Grant Major, accompanied at the piano by John Kember and singer and pianist deftly present the songs with considerable wit and a lightness of touch that is perfectly suited to the verses’ delightful mix of humour, sentiment, nostalgia and nonsense.

 

I might, immodestly, add that there's a cameo appearance by Yours Truly on Disc 2, narrating Milne's amusing introduction to his song, 'The King's Breakfast', and I also wrote the liner notes telling the story of Mr. Milne and Mr. Fraser-Simson and their enchanting collaboration, illustrated with rare Milne family photos from my persoanl collection.

 

This recording will certainly please all lovers of light verse and light music and will delight the young and the young-at-heart.

 

Enchanted Places is available from Amazon HERE

HUSH, HUSH, WHISPER WHO DARES...

I've just noticed that the DVD of Goodbye Christopher Robin is online as a pre-order item which reminds me that I never wrote about the film when it opened, despite having attended the premiere.

The film garnered mixed – indeed polarised – reviews with critiques ranging from:

"Goodbye Christopher Robin touches something bigger than its own ambitions. It touches, in a way movies rarely do, on some essential current of life" to "The film's main conflict is with its source material, twisting and wringing A A Milne's life for everything it's worth and hoping enough is squeezed out to qualify as a film"; and from "the movie's focus on the caustic effects of celebrity make this narrative set in the first half of the 20th century particularly relevant for the media-frenzied 21st" to "everything in this too-too movie feels overfermented, off".

For me, watching the film was a curious experience, mainly because I know too much about the subject. I have a written books, radio plays and programmes touching on the movie's story-line, as well as having known the 'real life Christopher Robin' and corresponded with his mother, his nanny and the artist, Ernest H Shepard who drew the unforgettable illustrations. So, my judgement is probably tainted with both too much knowledge of How Things Actually Were and an abiding affection for the collaboration between Milne and Shepard that created two books of verses about 'Christopher Robin' (and other children) and two books of stories about Winnie-the-Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore and the rest of the inhabitants of the 100 Aker Wood that have been literally life-long friends.

Trying to view the film dispassionately is, therefore, quite difficult. But let me try...

The first thing that needs to be said is that the scenario dexterously walks the perilous tightrope between sentiment and sentimentality; and the screenplay – by the absurdly talented Frank Cottrell-Boyce – merges the factual with the fictional while deftly coping with the difficulty of not being able to quote from the books (due to their being the copyright property of the Disney Company) while providing sufficient memory-triggering imagery to take our minds to where the screenwriter wants us to be. So, for example, a scene in which Mr Milne and his young son track their own footsteps through the snow carries us back to a snowy spinney where Pooh and Piglet do something similar without once having to mention the word 'Woozle'.

Simon Curtis has a light but sure hand on the directorial tiller and is served well by his cast: Domhnall Gleeson and Margot Robbie as Alan and Daphne Milne – the former abstracted by shattering experiences from the First World War, the latter a rather self-absorbed '20s socialite – Kelly Macdonald as Olive, the nanny who is closer to the Milne's child than they are, and young Will Tilston (a stunning debut) as the 8-year-old Christopher and Alex Lawther as his, later, 18-year-old self.

The photography by Ben Smithard is full of great beauty – the authentic across-the-seasons Ashdown Forest settings are achingly exquisite featuring the genuine Poohsticks Bridge and the Milne's actual country home, Cotchford Farm.

Some quibbles are inevitable (from a veteran Poohologist) and are easily explained by the need of charactersation and dramatic tension, but it was hard to accept the 'chummy' friendship between Milne and Shepard who – despite their common experiences during the Great War – were never close friends but only ever professional collaborators; and, whilst there is hardly a photograph or portrait of Milne where is depicted without his pipe, there's not a whiff of 'Old Holborn' evident in this writer's study. No doubt the same restrictions on certification meant that the society cocktail party in the film is a similarly smoke-free zone.

But, as I say, these are trivialities (as is the curious decision to give the clean-shave Shepard an unnecessary moustache); however, my overwhelming concern (is that too extreme a word?) about Goodbye Christopher Robin is the way it has impacted on the Truth, whatever that is...

The thing is: the film is the story of how celebrity distorted the life of the title character by fictionalising the young Christopher Milne into that literary character 'Christopher Robin' who said his prayers, went to watch the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace and lived in a tree in the middle of the forest with talking animals.

The film asks us to mourn the cost of that distortion (whilst simultaneously celebrating the brilliance of the books that resulted from it) but in doing so, Goodbye Christopher Robin inevitably fictionalises the story yet again, taking it further from, not closer to, the truth. The image of A A Milne sitting on the top of the Ashdown Forest alongside his son – interchangeably as a child and as a man – suggests a sense of understanding and reconciliation between them that is an emotionally satisfying coda, but one that is basically, and sadly, untrue.

The balance is redressed by the fact that my friend and Pooh-colleague, Ann Thwaite who, in 1990, wrote the definitive biography of A A Milne has now written a new book with a partially-similar title to the film, Goodbye Christopher Robin: A A Milne and the Making of Winnie-the-Pooh.

The book tells the story as it really was, completing the picture with a fuller understanding of who Milne was (his reputation – now largely forgotten – as a premier Punch humorist, essayist, writer of light and a hugely successful West End and Broadway dramatist) and what made him tick, his relationship with Daphne ("I married her because she laughed at my jokes") and the impact of the social mores existing among the upper and upper-middle classes of the 1920s which often resulted in the bond between child and nanny that had greater resonance than between child and mother.

Anne's full biography is also still in print, A A Milne: His Life, as is Milne's own account of How-Things-Were (just reprinted) It's Too Late Now: The Autobiography of a Writer.

And anyone who really wants to know what it was like growing up and growing older as 'Christopher Robin' should read Christopher Milne's brilliantly written reflection – by turn, sharply painful and deeply moving – The Enchanted Places: A Childhood Memoir which, thanks to the film, is back in print.

 
Also recently published is James Campbell's The Art of Winnie-the-Pooh: How E H Shepard Illustrated an Icon containing a exceptional gallery of illustrations – many published for the first time – but which is so riddled with errors of identification, as to make the book anything but the last word on Shepard's artistry and his contribution to the mythology of the 100 Aker Wood.

And, finally, anyone seeking more news on Pooh can always consult my own Three Cheers for Pooh...

HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDY

So Owl wrote... and this is what he wrote: 

"HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH

THUTHDA BTHUTHDY"

Pooh looked on admiringly. 

"I'm just saying 'A Happy Birthday'," said Owl carelessly. 

"It's a nice long one," said Pooh, very much impressed by it.

And today, is Winnie-the-Pooh's 90th Birthday!

Yes, 90 years ago today, on 14 October 1926, A A Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh was published, introducing not just "The Best Bear in All the World", but also Piglet, Eeyore, Rabbit, Owl, Kanga and Baby Roo – Tigger made his debut two years later oin The House at Pooh Corner.

But today also happens to be the 40th anniversary of my first-ever radio programme for the BBC.

Broadcast in 1976, it was presented by the well-known character actor and teddy bear authority Peter Bull (Dr Strangelove, Doctor Dolittle etc) and featured Norman Shelley (radio's original 'Voice of Pooh') and singer, pianist and editor of The Pooh Song Book, Antony Miall.

The programme celebrated (as you will have already worked out for yourself having taken 40 away from 90!) Winnie-the-Pooh's 50th birthday and it was entitled: Three Cheers for Pooh.

And here (if you have a half-an-hour to spare) it is...

Happy Birthday to Us!

BEAR FACTS

Rabbit was rushing along through the Hundred Acre Wood in a great hurry.

"Can't stop, Pooh," he said as he hurtled by, "I've got to order my copy of next Sunday's Sunday Telegraph."

Pooh was wondering what a 'Next-Sunday's-Sunday-Telegraph' was, when Eeyore wandered by, stopped and looked gloomily at Pooh. "I don't suppose I'll be in it," he said.

"In what?" asked Pooh.

"What indeed?" echoed Eeyore and shambled away in search of a thistle with which to console himself.

Pooh went to ask Piglet what he thought and then they both went to ask Owl whether he thought they were right and Owl said it was all to do with something called a 'Sequel' that was Coming Very Soon. 

"You see," said Owl, "a sequel is Something That Comes After Something That Went Before and really needs to be the Same but Different, if you see what I mean." 

Unfortunately, they didn't, so they went to ask Christopher Robin What it All it Meant.

Two jars of honey and a plate of haycorns later, Christopher Robin explained that because Pooh was about to celebrate being 90, the nice people at Egmont, who looked after his books for him, had invited four writers – Paul Bright, Jeanne Willis, Kate Saunders and Brian Sibley – to tell four new stories about Pooh and his friends and Mark Burgess to make lots of pictures of them all doing the Sequely things that happen in Sequels.

And when Sunday eventually arrived, Rabbit rushed round to Pooh Corner with a copy of The Sunday Telegraph, which had an interview with Brian in the newsy part, and an article by Brian in what was called the 'Living' part along with a thrilling extract from Brian's story that everybody crowded round and read with great interest and excitement: because, as well as Pooh and Piglet and Eeyore and Rabbit and Owl and Everyone Else, there was Somebody New, called–––––––––

But I really you can't tell you any more than that, because if I do, we will find ourselves being pursued by something called an Embargo, which, as Rabbit has reminded me, is a Very Fierce and Potentially Litigious Creature indeed!

And THAT is why, if you really want to know what this is all about (and Pooh says that You Really Do), you will have to buy The Sunday Telegraph this Sunday...


UPDATE...

And, of course, the answer was –– a Penguin...

 

Inspired by this Milne family photograph... 

 

BIRTHDAY BEAR!

So Owl wrote... and this is what he wrote:
 
HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH THUTHDA BTHUTHDY.
 
Pooh looked on admiringly.
 
"I'm just saying 'A Happy Birthday'," said Owl carelessly.
 
"It's a nice long one," said Pooh, very much impressed by it.
 
"Well, actually, of course, I'm saying 'A Very Happy Birthday with love from Pooh.' Naturally it takes a good deal of pencil to say a long thing like that."
 
"Oh, I see," said Pooh.

On the 14 October, 1926, the publishing firm of Methuen & Co., published a  new book by A A Milne featuring a Bear of Very Little Brain named ––– yes, of course! Winnie-the-Pooh.

So, today is Pooh Bear's 89th birthday! Who would have believed a diet of Hunny and regular games of Pooh sticks could keep a Bear so young in heart?

As it happens, today is – for me – a equally important milestone. From the earliest days of childhood, Pooh was my boon companion: I love him and his hums – and his friends in the 100 Aker Wood: nervous Piglet, gloomy Eeyore, bossy Rabbit, punctilious Owl, fussy Kanga, excitable Roo and, of course, the ever-bouncy Tigger –– all perfectly depicted in the incomparable illustrations of E H Shepard.

 

I kept my affection for Pooh and company across the years and when, 39 years ago, I sold my very first radio programme to the BBC, it was a celebration of Winnie-the-Pooh's 50th birthday.

Three Cheers for Pooh was broadcast, on this day, in 1976. The programme was presented by actor (and Teddy Bear aficionado) Peter Bull (with whom I had become friends some years earlier) and featured veteran BBC actor, Norman Shelley (the BBC's original voice of Pooh) and another dear friend, the talented singer, pianist and broadcaster, Anthony Miall.

It's very old but it still has some charm (I think) and I'm very fond of it because it launched my radio writing and broadcasting career. Not only that, but it's about Pooh!

THAT SORT OF BEAR!

Today happens to be 88th birthday of a certain Edward Bear, better known as 'Winnie-the-Pooh' –– or 'Pooh' for short.

To mark this auspoohcious occasion, here's Pooh creator, A A Milne, reading from the adventures of his famous 'Bear of Very Little Brain'...

ON THE LATE SIDE

Today is A A Milne's birthday.

The author of all those verses and stories about Christopher Robin and his bear of Very Little Brain, Winnie-the-Pooh, was born 132 years ago in Hampstead, London, on 18 January, 1882.

Pooh's good friend, Eeyore, gloomily (but accurately) observed...

"After all, what are birthdays? Here today and gone tomorrow." 

...so to brighten him and everyone else up, I thought I'd mention that my book, Three Cheers for Pooh, is being republished later this year to mark the 90th anniversary of the first publication of When We Were Very Young, in the pages of which Winnie-the-Pooh (then known, formally, as 'Mr Edward Bear' or sometimes simply as 'Teddy Bear') made his bow. Here are the proofs of the cover...

And, for anyone who'd like to know a little more about the man who gave us Pooh, Eeyore, Piglet, Tigger, Kager, Roo, Owl, Rabbit and all his friends (and relations!) sit down with a nice cup of tea and a smackerel of something and enjoy this programme, originally broadcast on BBC Radio 4 in 2006, and starring Alec McCowen and Jasper Britton. It was entitled (after Milne's autobiography) It's Too Late Now...

POOH PERFECT

Today is Winnie-the-Pooh's 87th birthday – if you date his literary origins from his first appearance under that name – and 'under the name of Sanders' in A A Milne's book, Winnie-the-Pooh, published on this day in 1926. 

Mind you, he had already made his bow, two years earlier, in When We Were Very Young, under the rather less impressive moniker, 'Teddy Bear'.

I shall be celebrating 'The Best Bear in All the World' (as Christopher Robin calls him) this evening with a talk to the members of the famous Garrick Club of which Milne was a member and, though royalties on his books, a major benefactor.

Entitled Mr Milne, Mr Shepard and that Bear of Very Little Brain, it will look at Pooh's history and the contributions of AAM, his son, Christopher (who was responsible for Pooh before the bear started having adventures in the '100 Aker Wood') and illustrator Ernest H Shepard who drew the pictures that are now as integral a part of the books as the words they decorate.

Here, to mark the event, is a suite of three Shepard illustrations for Pooh's second book, The House at Pooh Corner (1928), which were originally owned by my friend the artist and illustrator, Pauline Baynes, and came to me after her death. 

Shepard drew a series of five illustrations depicting Pooh's friend Piglet plating a 'haycorn' and of these three, only the central drawing was used in the book along with two others of Pooh planting the haycorn and jumping up and down on the earth once the hole had been filled in.

This the first time these previously unseen pictures have been published...

EASTER GOLD

A house with daffodils in it is a house lit up,

whether or no the sun be shining outside. 

– A A Milne

NOT THAT IT MATTERS

Today is the 131st birthday of one of my favourite writers, A A Milne.

Alan Alexander Milne is now pretty much only remembered as the author of verses about Christopher Robin and stories about Christopher's nursery companions, Winnie-the-Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore, Tigger and the rest, but there was so much more to his life and career: he was Assistant Editor on the humorous magazine, Punch and  a highly acclaimed novelist, essayist, polemicist and playwright.

In 1992, on the centenary of Milne's birth, I compiled Not That It Matters, a radio celebration, made up mostly of his own words taken from his plays, essays (a volume of which provided the title) and his quirky – often ironic – autobiographical writings.

Mr Milne was played by Hugh Dickson, a superb actor whom fans of The Archers will remember as Guy Pemberton and with whom I had the great pleasure of working on the radio dramatisation of The Lord of the Rings, in which he had played Lord Elrond.

Produced by veteran radio director, Graham Gauld, the characters in Milne's novels and plays were portrayed by a cast of radio stalwarts, including my dear friend, Antony Miall, who also played the piano and was Piglet to my Pooh in the "More it Snows, Tiddely-Pom" number!

Since the snow is currently falling (at least where I am) why not make yourself a nice mug of hot chocolate and curl up for half an hour and enjoy this little tribute to the forgotten talents of a much-loved author –– not that it matters...

Images: Drawing of A A Milne by Harry Furniss; Illustration of Christopher Robin, Pooh and Piglet by E H Shepard

CRACKING FUN

The other week I was giving a talk to a bunch of American students visiting Britain on a course devoted to Children's Literature. My subject was talking animals in literature (from the serpent in the Garden of Eden to manifestations of Parseltongue in the Harry Potter books) and coincidentally – while I was in the midst of my researches – David and I were looking out items from our collection for a new exhibition at The Cartoon Museum entitled...

Animal Crackers is a celebration of an amazing ark-load of creatures who, across many generations, have been put to work by cartoonists, illustrators and film-makers in the interests of humour and satire.

There are cartoons featuring animals as national types or political groups across several centuries from John Tenniel and David Low (whose Coalition Ass is, surely, ripe for revival!) to today's satirists, Steve Bell and Martin Rowson.

But best of all are those animals simply horsing around or monkeying about for the sheer fun of it or, as in these two cartoons, re-defining the term 'bird brain'...

 

There are people behaving like animals and animals dressed up like people, as in this example, 'Hare Dressing', by one of Dickens' illustrators, John Leech...

Among the more than 140 exhibits by 60 artists you'll find, cheek by jowl, Korky the Kat...

...and Simon's Cat...

There are perennial favourites like Fred Basset, Rupert Bear, Flook and one of Thelwell's endearingly obstreperous ponies...

There are also a number of rabbits in evidence from this literary imagining (from our collection) by Michael fflokes...

...to the black humour of Andy Riley's Bunny Suicides...

From the nation's comics you'll meet a range of amusing animals from Pip, Squeak and Wilfred (a bizarre vintage menage featuring a dog, a penguin and a rabbit) and, from the Beano, The Three Bears...

And from animated films there's the Pink Panther, Gromit (and Wallace) and assorted Disney folk from Max Hare and Toby Tortoise from the 1934 Silly Symphony, The Tortoise and the Hare...

...to that king of the swingers, The Jungle Book's King Louie...

This wonderfully entertaining exhibition remains on show until 21 October.

The Cartoon Museum
35 Little Russell Street
London WC1A 2HH

Telephone 0207 580 8155

OPENING TIMES:
Tuesdays-Saturdays 10:30-17:30
Sunday 12:-17:30 Closed Mondays (including Bank Holidays)

ADMISSION:
£5.50 Adults; £4.00; Concessions; £3 Students Free to Under-18s
Art Fund Members and Friends of the Cartoon Museum
Children 12 or under must be accompanied by an adult

There are occasional special events arranged to coincide with exhibitions: check the Cartoon Museum website for up-to-date details and how to book.

***

Finally, these two characters...

...prompt me to let you know that the recent radio programme, The Songs of Milne that features the settings written by H Fraser-Simson for A A Milne's Christopher Robin verses and Hums of Pooh (in which I made an appearance) gets a repeat airing tomorrow (Saturday) on BBC Radio 4 at 13:30.


Image credits:
Penguin and Polar Bear © Royston Roberton
Ian Baker, Readers' Digest  200
'A Nasty Tern' from Ralph Steadman’s Extinct Boids with Ceri Levy (October 2012)
Korky the Cat, James Crighton, Dandy 1949 © D C Thomson & Co Ltd.
Simon's Cat © Simon Tofield
'You Can Talk to Your Horse' © Norman Thelwell
'For Services to Literature' © the estate of Michael ffolkes (Brian Davis)
Bunny Suicides © Andy Riley
The Three Bears (detail), Leo Baxendale, Beano1963 © D C Thomson & Co Ltd
Disney images © The Walt Disney Studio

HUM–ALONG–A-POOH

Do you remember this..

The year: 1977... A record made by a small green frog reaches No.7 in the UK Top Ten and earns him an appearance on the BBC's weekly TV show, Top of the Pops.

The frog was Robin, nephew of Kermit, Master of Ceremonies of The Muppet Show and the lyrics – by A A Milne (left) author, playwright and essayist and Assistant Editor of the humorous magazine Punch – had originally been published in 1924 in Milne's celebrated collection of children's verses, with illustrations by E H Shepard, When We Were Very Young.

The wistful melody was the work of Harold Fraser-Simson (right), a close neighbour of Milne's in Chelsea and a fellow member of the Garrick Club.

He had also earned a reputation as a successful composer of light music with his score for the phenomenal West End triumph, The Maid of the Mountains, an operetta that played for 1,352 performances: a record run second only, at the time, to that of Chu Chin Chow.

The partnership between Fraser-Simson and Milne began with a volume of Fourteen Songs from 'When We Were Very Young', which instantly capitalised on the huge success achieved by the book of verses, many of which were 'fictionally' based on the juvenile doings of Milne's son, Christopher Robin: going to see the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace ('with Alice') or being careful not to treads on the lines of the street – especially whenever he went 'Hoppity-hoppity-hoppity-hoppity-hop'!

One of the most famous songs to come out of this collaboration was Milne's first 'children's verse', published two years before When We Were Very Young in 1923, in the American magazine, Vanity Fair. It's formal title was 'Vespers' but most people know it as...

Some may think it is a tad too sentimental (and they'd probably be right!) but, in it's defence, I would point out that the writer later said that if you read the words carefully you'll see that it is, in fact, about a little boy NOT saying his prayers!

Many recordings of the song have been made over the years, from 'Belfast's Own Boy Soprano', Billy Neely...

...via Gracie Fields and Webster Booth to the New York Met's great Wagnerian soprano, Helen Traubel...

In addition to the verses in When We Were Very Young and Now We Are Six, Fraser-Simson provided musical settings for the Hums of Pooh, the ditties extemporised by Christopher Robin's 'bear of very little brain' in the books, Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner.

Anyway, what all this is leading up to is that there is a 30-minute feature tomorrow (Tuesday) morning on BBC Radio 4 at 11:30 am about the MIlne/Fraser-Simson partnership.  

The Songs of Milne is presented by pianist John Kember (below right with baritone Richard Burkhard), who first came across the music on a friend's piano and set about collecting the scores for all of Fraser-Simson's sixty-seven settings of Milne's verses and Pooh's Hums. It is John's ambition that he and Richard might produce a complete recording of these delightful songs.

In the programme, John tells the story of this, now largely forgotten, partnership and explores the relationship between the words and the music, their rise and decline in popularity and ponders the question of whether they have any currency in today's world that is so very different to that of the 1920s era of nannies, nursery teas and prayers at bedtime...

Also taking part in the broadcast are Andrew Lamb, authority on musical theatre, Dr Clare Rose, Honorary Research Fellow at the Centre for the Study of Childhood and Youth –– and the author of Three Cheers for Pooh, viz... Me! 

Following the broadcast, the programme can be heard via the BBC iPlayer for the next seven days.

I began by mentioning the Muppets and I think the late Jim Henson must have had an affection for these songs because, over the years, a number of them were featured on The Muppet Show. I'll leave you with Rowlf's rendition of one of Pooh's best hums, 'Cottleston Pie'...

LINES AND SQUARES

On a nearby building-site – in an attempt to make the place look more attractive than building-sites usually look – colourful hoardings were erected and were specially graffitied with helpful suggestions on how to brighten up our otherwise hum-drum Kennington lives.

For example, why not...

Or, again, you could...


But, whatever we do, we were reminded, we absolutely MUST remember...


I wonder exactly when it was decided that one ought NOT to walk on the lines on the street?

Certainly if it wasn't down to A A Milne, he (with his penchant for bears) at least made it something of which every reader of When We Were Very Young became acutely aware through this little verse...

Whenever I walk in a London street,
I'm ever so careful to watch my feet;
And I keep in the squares,
And the masses of bears,
Who wait at the corners all ready to eat
The sillies who tread on the lines of the street,
Go back to their lairs,
And I say to them, "Bears,
just look how I'm walking in all the squares!"

And the little bears growl to each other, "He's mine,
As soon as he's silly and steps on a line."
And some of the bigger bears try to pretend
That they came round the corner to look for a friend;
And they try to pretend that nobody cares
Whether you walk on the lines or squares.
But only the sillies believe the talk;
It's ever so portant how you walk.
And it's ever so jolly to call out, "Bears,
just watch me walking in all the squares!"

A few hours after posting innocent piece of flummery above, I was driven by my insatiable curiosity (and readers of Kipling will recall where insatiable curiosity inevitably leads) to start trawling the net in search of a pre-Milnean origin for Linesofthestreetphobia!

The result was both illuminating and shocking according to CSI the website of the magazine Skeptical Enquiry.

Here (in their uncensored words) is the alleged origin of Christopher Robin's innocent bear-avoidance game:

Ill-fortune is said to be the result from stepping on a crack in the pavement. Present day society usually associates the superstition behind treading on cracks to the rhyme: "Step on a crack, break your mother's back" but the superstition actually goes back to the late 19th - early 20th Century and the racism that was prevalent in this period.

The original rhyming verse is thought to be "Step on a crack and your mother will turn black." It was also common to think that walking on the lines in pavement would mean you would marry a negro and have a black baby. (Apparently this superstition only applied to Caucasians and because of the rampant prejudice against black people, was considered an activity to avoid.)

Stepping on cracks also had significance for children. In the mid-20th Century it was popular to tell children that if they stepped on the cracks in the street, they would be eaten by the bears that congregate on street corners waiting for their lunch to walk by. [Appallingly, no credit given to Mr Milne here! Ed]

Also, the number of lines a person would walk on corresponded with the number of china dishes that the person would break, later in the day.

Only in the last few decades has the rhyming superstition resurfaced to be the recognized "step on a crack, break your mother's back" and in some areas, two superstitions above are melded together to include the number of lines one steps on will correspond with the number of your mother's bones that are broken.

Original illustrations to When We Were Very Young (1924) by Ernest H Shepard