"Why, whatever is the matter?"
Udo was decidedly embarrassed. He wriggled. He drew little circles with his hind paw on the ground and he shot little coy glances at her.
"Well, I"—and he gave a little nervous giggle—"I have a sort of uneasy feeling that I may be one of those animals"—he gave another conscious little laugh—"that have to go to sleep all through the winter. It would be very annoying—if I"—his paw became very busy here—"if I had to dig a little hole in the ground, just when the plot was thickening."
"Oh, but you won't," said Hyacinth, in distress.
They were both silent for a moment, thinking of the awful possibilities. Udo's tail had fallen across Hyacinth's lap, and she began to play with it absently.
"Anyway," she said hopefully, "it's only July now."
"Ye—es," said Udo. "I suppose I should get—er—busy about November. We ought to find out something before then. First of all we'd better—— Oh!" He started up in dismay. "I've just had a horrible thought. Don't I have to collect a little store of nuts and things?"
"Surely——"
"I should have to start that pretty soon," said Udo thoughtfully. "You know, I shouldn't be very handy at it. Climbing about after nuts," he went on dreamily, "what a life for a——"
"Oh, don't!" pleaded Hyacinth. "Surely only squirrels do that?"