Unfortunately Snythergen was ticklish and whenever the birds touched a sensitive spot he could not help wiggling. This frightened the woodpeckers for a while and they flew to a neighboring limb to gaze at the strange tree. But as soon as they stopped tickling Snythergen always stopped shaking. This puzzled the birds. They could not understand why they felt the tree shake when they pecked, but could not see it move when they stopped to look at it. Finally they decided that they only imagined it moved, and after that they did not fly away unless the wiggling was very violent—which it was whenever a bird happened to blunder upon Snythergen’s “funny bone.” Snythergen was beginning to realize that the life of a tree is not all joy. Hardly could he wait for night to come when the birds would fly away. In the meantime he tried and tried to think of a plan to outwit them. “I have it!” he whispered to himself at last.
When it was quite dark he pulled off his tree suit, and went to a near-by town to purchase several xylophones. These are musical instruments with keys usually made of wood, and played on with a little mallet. Snythergen took the keys apart and strung them about his trunk so that they hung about him like a skirt of mail, to protect his bark from woodpeckers. The next morning when the birds began to circle around him, he smiled to himself. When one of them lighted and began pecking away, a cheery sound came forth. And when the others followed his example the whole tree became a bedlam of musical jingles. “Peck away, peck away!” said Snythergen to himself, “you cannot hurt me now!”
It was not long before the strange sounds issuing from the tree attracted all the wild life of the forest. The air became almost black with flying things, and the ground was swarming with animals little and big. Even a bear came along and Snythergen trembled from roots to peak leaf. How he wanted to run home to his mother! It would be easier to go back and face his schoolmates than to stay alone with a bear. But at heart Snythergen was really a brave little boy and his courage soon returned. He had set out to be a tree and he made up his mind he would be a worthy one. He did not want the forest to be ashamed of him. “I must not be the first tree that ever ran away. It would set all the others such a bad example!” he thought. So he held his teeth together very firmly, and stood up ever so straight and stiff. “I must appear calm and unconcerned,” he said to himself, but his heart beat so rapidly and thumped so loudly he thought the bear must surely hear it. But the big brute was too much absorbed in the strange concert to think of anything else, and did not suspect that a spare-ribbed boy trembled behind a disguise of bark, boughs and leaves.
After a while the novelty wore off and the bear went about his business, much to Snythergen’s relief. The others, too, felt easier when the big brute was gone, and crowded more closely about the strange tree.
His feet projected out of the window in the butler’s pantry