She led the way to the woodpecker’s tree, and they listened at the hole.

Down below there was a noise of nutcrackers, and a fat squirrel voice and a thin squirrel voice were singing together—­

     “My little old man and I fell out,
     How shall we bring this matter about? 
     Bring it about as well as you can,
     And get you gone, you little old man!”

“You could squeeze in, through
that little round hole,” said Goody
Tiptoes.  “Yes, I could,” said the
Chipmunk, “but my husband,
Chippy Hackee, bites!”

Down below there was a noise of cracking nuts and nibbling; and then the fat squirrel voice and the thin squirrel voice sang—­

     “For the diddlum day
     Day diddle durn di! 
     Day diddle diddle dum day!”

Then Goody peeped in at the
hole, and called down—­“Timmy
Tiptoes!  Oh fie, Timmy Tiptoes!”
And Timmy replied, “Is that you,
Goody Tiptoes?  Why, certainly!”

He came up and kissed Goody through the hole; but he was so fat that he could not get out.

Chippy Hackee was not too fat, but he did not want to come; he stayed down below and chuckled.

And so it went on for a fort-night; till a big wind blew off the top of the tree, and opened up the hole and let in the rain.

Then Timmy Tiptoes came out, and went home with an umbrella.

But Chippy Hackee continued to camp out for another week, although it was uncomfortable.

At last a large bear came walking through the wood.  Perhaps he also was looking for nuts; he seemed to be sniffing around.

Chippy Hackee went home
in a hurry!

And when Chippy Hackee got home, he found he had caught a cold in his head; and he was more uncomfortable still.

And now Timmy and Goody Tiptoes keep their nut store fastened up with a little padlock.

And whenever that little bird sees the Chipmunks, he sings—­“Who’s-been-digging-up my-nuts?  Who’s been dig-ging-up my-nuts?” But nobody ever answers!

THE TALE OF MR. TOD

[For William Francis of Ulva—­Someday!]

I have made many books about well-behaved people.  Now, for a change, I am going to make a story about two disagreeable people, called Tommy Brock and Mr. Tod.

Nobody could call Mr. Tod “nice.”  The rabbits could not bear him; they could smell him half a mile off.  He was of a wandering habit and he had foxy whiskers; they never knew where he would be next.

One day he was living in a stick-house in the coppice [grove], causing terror to the family of old Mr. Benjamin Bouncer.  Next day he moved into a pollard willow near the lake, frightening the wild ducks and the water rats.

In winter and early spring he might generally be found in an earth amongst the rocks at the top of Bull Banks, under Oatmeal Crag.