But when the other squirrels heard that song, they rushed upon Timmy Tiptoes and cuffed and scratched him, and upset his bag of nuts.  The innocent little bird which had caused all the mischief, flew away in a fright!

Timmy rolled over and over, and then turned tail and fled towards his nest, followed by a crowd of squirrels shouting—­ “Who’s-been digging-up my-nuts?”

They caught him and dragged him up the very same tree, where there was the little round hole, and they pushed him in.  The hole was much too small for Timmy Tiptoes’ figure.  They squeezed him dreadfully, it was a wonder they did not break his ribs.  “We will leave him here till he confesses,” said Silvertail Squirrel and he shouted into the hole—­“Who’s-been-digging-up my-nuts?”

Timmy Tiptoes made no reply; he had tumbled down inside the tree, upon half a peck of nuts belonging to himself.  He lay quite stunned and still.

Goody Tiptoes picked up the nut bags and went home.  She made a cup of tea for Timmy; but he didn’t come and didn’t come.

Goody Tiptoes passed a lonely and unhappy night.  Next morning she ventured back to the nut bushes to look for him; but the other unkind squirrels drove her away.

She wandered all over the wood, calling—­

“Timmy Tiptoes!  Timmy Tip-toes!  Oh, where is Timmy Tiptoes?”

In the meantime Timmy Tiptoes came to his senses.  He found himself tucked up in a little moss bed, very much in the dark, feeling sore; it seemed to be under ground.  Timmy coughed and groaned, because his ribs hurted him.  There was a chirpy noise, and a small striped Chipmunk appeared with a night light, and hoped he felt better?

It was most kind to Timmy Tiptoes; it lent him its nightcap; and the house was full of provisions.

The Chipmunk explained that it had rained nuts through the top of the tree—­“Besides, I found a few buried!” It laughed and chuckled when it heard Timmy’s story.  While Timmy was confined to bed, it ’ticed him to eat quantities —­“But how shall I ever get out through that hole unless I thin myself?  My wife will be anxious!” “Just another nut—­or two nuts; let me crack them for you,” said the Chipmunk.  Timmy Tiptoes grew fatter and fatter!

Now Goody Tiptoes had set to work again by herself.  She did not put any more nuts into the woodpecker’s hole, because she had always doubted how they could be got out again.  She hid them under a tree root; they rattled down, down, down.  Once when Goody emptied an extra big bagful, there was a decided squeak; and next time Goody brought another bagful, a little striped Chipmunk scrambled out in a hurry.

“It is getting perfectly full-up downstairs; the sitting room is full, and they are rolling along the passage; and my husband, Chippy Hackee, has run away and left me.  What is the explanation of these showers of nuts?”

“I am sure I beg your pardon; I did not know that anybody lived here,” said Mrs. Goody Tiptoes; “but where is Chippy Hackee?  My husband, Timmy Tiptoes, has run away too.”  “I know where Chippy is; a little bird told me,” said Mrs. Chippy Hackee.