One hundred years ago today—on March 28, 1926—a rather notably consequential missive was dispatched from Chelsea. It seems the Observer had the exceedingly poor taste to describe a certain bear of very little brain as a "fabulous monster." A.A. Milne, a man of sharp wit and immeasurable loyalty, was having none of it, threatening that Pooh himself would head directly to his publishers at Methuen to settle the matter.
In our temporary quarters at the Upright Burrow, the Keeper of Remembered Things guards this piece of history with profound care. It is a legacy that spans generations of these House-Creatures; note the plush bear in the archives, hand-stitched by the Keeper’s mother in the 1970s. If you look closer at the embroidery on his tiny garments, you will find both of his names: Edward Bear and Pooh. We are told the Keeper’s grandmother was particularly fond of these tales and could produce a Piglet voice of surprising accuracy.
P herself was quite partial to the Milne family. She often reflects upon their afternoons spent on Blackfriars Bridge over the Thames. While Alan and Daphne thought P and young Christopher were playing a rousing game of “Poohsticks,” P and the child had a far more wickedly whimsical purpose: to annoy the cranky water sprites residing in the muck below. P notes that the sprites’ resulting indignation was a "delightfully high-pitched shade of emerald."
Even after a century, the magic of a faithful friend remains manifestly powerful. By preserving these stories—and perhaps hiding a tiny curio of your own near a well-loved book—you help sustain the very existence of the fantastic.