The children laughed, and said, “You must have lived in a funny place all your life, if you never heard squirrels talk.”
“It was a very nice place,” said Tina.
“Perhaps so,” said the children. “Never mind; let us get down, and see what is in the nuts.”
“Why, what is always in nuts, I suppose,” said Tina.
“Oh, you don’t know,” said they; and they all gave a little jump, and sank lightly to the ground as if they were feathers.
They set to work to crack the nuts, and Tina was amazed to find that in every one was something different.
The first one held a delicious bon-bon; the second a tiny little horse and wagon. The horse seemed alive and trotted off by itself, no one tried to stop it. And nut after nut was cracked, each holding something more wonderful—the strange part of it being that no amount of hard blows on the shell seemed to break what was inside.
After a while they were tired; and, taking Tina by the hand, led her to the village, through the streets to a cottage. They all went in, and the first thing she knew, Tina was lying on a soft bed, feeling, oh, so sleepy. And in a moment more she forgot everything.
