“Where does he live?” asked Snythergen.
“Stop the top, stop the top!” bellowed Squeaky
“In a very big house about a mile from here. You can visit him later on, but first I want you to spend a week with me and see some of the sights on the Wreath. Your friend overworked himself last Christmas and needs another week of rest.”
It made Snythergen homesick to go to Blasterjinx’ house and meet his parents, for they were small like his own father and mother and their house was not very large either, except Blasterjinx’ room which was a separate building covering most of the yard. Blasterjinx’ mother was a kind soul and made her visitors feel very much at home with the aid of doughnuts, cookies and pies. Somehow this made Snythergen feel better, although his mother and father were always in his thoughts.
The three friends told Blasterjinx about their adventures, and he became so interested he wanted to play tree at once. He tried on Snythergen’s suit of green but it was not big enough in the waist for him, and when he squeezed into it the bark began to rip.
“You will tear it,” cried Blasterjinx’ mother, “and then Snythergen won’t be able to wear it—for I am sure I don’t know how to mend torn bark. I might sew it with a pine needle, but I wouldn’t know what to use for thread.”