The most forgetful squirrel in the wood was called Silvertail. He began to dig, and he could not remember. And then he dug again and found some nuts that did not belong to him; and there was a fight. And other squirrels began to dig,—the whole wood was in commotion!
Unfortunately, just at this time a flock of little birds flew by, from bush to bush, searching for green caterpillars and spiders. There were several sorts of little birds, twittering different songs.
The first one sang—“Who’s bin digging-up my nuts? Who’s-been-digging-up my nuts?”
And another sang—“Little bita bread and-no-cheese! Little bit-a-bread an’-no-cheese!”
The squirrels followed and listened. The first little bird flew into the bush where Timmy and Goody Tiptoes were quietly tying up their bags, and it sang—“Who’s-bin digging-up my nuts? Who’s been digging-up my-nuts?”
Timmy Tiptoes went on with his work without replying; indeed, the little bird did not expect an answer. It was only singing its natural song, and it meant nothing at all.
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—
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 Tiptoes! 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?