For a week Pooh Bear ate bran instead of honey. He grew lean and ground his new-found claws on concrete. He gargled with salt water every night, and again on Thursdays at three.
He dined the second week on swiss cheese, washed down with strong black tea, tannic and hot, grumbling and humbling and snapping his fingers to Louis Armstrong.
On the third week, he packed a knapsack with Pecan Sandies and hiked the Matterhorn, plodding till the air was thin and the planets close as moths. Then he stopped, and munched, and spoke - and the voice he used was Tom's.
Pumice stones sand heels Tom in the Dry Tortugas Heals sand by speaking