Then an adventurous boy began climbing his trunk, and Snythergen thought surely the little fellow would feel his heart beat. But the child only climbed higher and higher, venturing out on a high limb which Snythergen held insecurely with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. It had been difficult to support the branch alone and keep it from swaying, but with the heavy boy on it Snythergen found it almost impossible. The perspiration stood out on every bough. His left arm became so tired it pained him dreadfully, and it took all his strength to keep from dropping it to his side. He knew that he could not hold it out much longer, and yet if he let the branch drop the boy would be dashed to the ground and perhaps cruelly hurt. In spite of all he could do he was horrified to see the limb settling slowly downward and he closed his eyes to shut out the catastrophe that seemed sure to follow. Suddenly there was a cry from below. “Get right down out of that tree,” called the mother of the boy. Snythergen braced himself to hold on a moment longer, and just as the boy reached his trunk, the branch fell to his side. Snythergen breathed a prayer of thanksgiving. The child soon was safe on the ground. Snythergen thought the people in the farmer’s yard curious and watchful, but he was mistaken. He was soon to learn what real curiosity and watchfulness are like. Some one had sent for a famous tree doctor, and he came promptly to look Snythergen over. When he appeared Snythergen put on his most correct forest behavior and really was a model tree, for the doctor’s benefit. “I can’t see anything unusual about that tree,” said the physician, unpacking his instrument case. Snythergen was holding out his branches gracefully and letting his leaves flutter naturally in the breeze. The doctor spread his shining wood-carving tools out on a cloth on the ground. Much as the little man knew about trees, he had never learned to climb one, and the farmer had to fetch him a long ladder before he could make his examination. When the little man had mounted well up toward the top of Snythergen he placed a fever thermometer in a knothole, which happened to lead into Snythergen’s mouth. Leaving it there he descended to the ground, and wrapped a rubber bandage about his trunk, winding it so tightly that Snythergen barely avoided a cry of pain. One look at the indicator gave the tree doctor a shock. “Sap pressure 110!” he cried. “There must be some mistake!” Again and again he tried it and each time it registered 110. “Surely there is something very strange here!” said the doctor. “Never have I heard of a tree with a sap pressure over 30. Why, it’s as high as the blood pressure of a boy!” But the tree doctor was to receive another shock when he tapped Snythergen’s bark and listened with a tree stethoscope. “Why, I didn’t think there was a tree in the world with such a violent throb. It’s as fast and strong as the heart beat of a child!”