John and Michael were spared to beat the trees, and down below the children filled baskets and bags. Squirrels ran everywhere, indignant, darting aloft like streaks of light, scolding as they sat with their tails over their heads among the few golden leaves left, and chattering at the children below.
Ally and Essie, as usual, went off by themselves, Pincher following them. “The oxens,” said he, “allus go together, yoke-fellows, same ez you two do!”
“Pincher!” suddenly called Essie, “look here!”
“Oh, Pincher, do!” cried Ally. “Please do look here!”
“Well, that’s what I call luck,” said Pincher, coming up and stooping over the find—a hoard of nuts that some industrious squirrel, whose nest was probably in a hollow of the tree above, had stored among the roots and dead leaves—an enormous quantity.
“Wal, these had orter do ye!” said Pincher. “Ye couldn’t eat more nuts ’n them.”
Ally and Essie scooped up the nuts by double-handfuls into their baskets, and Pincher filled his bag.
“Oh! isn’t this great, Ally?” said Essie. “Just think of the nut-candy!”
“And the nut-cake!” added Ally.