“Why, a lot of houses together,” said the squirrel. “Don’t you call them hives? The only other creatures I know that live in that kind of way (and a very poor way it is, to my thinking) are the bees, and their places are called hives.”
“A collection of houses, Mr. Cracker,” said the grandmother gently, “is called a village or a town, according to its size; a village being a small collection.”
“Oh!” said the squirrel. “Thank you, ma’am! I will try to remember that. Well, this boy Jim lives in the nearest village, and sometimes goes into the forest. Now, the autumn is slipping away fast, as we all know; and last week my Uncle Munkle, who is always fore-handed and thrifty, thought it was high time to be getting in his winter store of nuts and acorns. So he sent for his nephews to come and help him (he has no children of his own). We all went, of course, and Coon went with us, for my uncle always gives us a feast after the nuts are in, and Coon always goes wherever there is anything to—”
“What?” said the raccoon, looking up sharply.
“Wherever there is anything to be done!” said the squirrel hastily.
“The second day, as we were all hard at work shelling the beechnuts, I heard a noise among the bushes,—a crackling noise that did not sound like any animal I knew. I looked, and saw two eyes peering out from the leaves of a young beech-tree. ‘That is a boy,’ said I to myself, ‘and he means mischief!’ So I skipped off without saying anything to the others, and crept softly round behind the bushes, making no more noise than an eel in the mud. There I found, not one boy, but two, crouching among the bushes, and watching the nut-shelling. They were whispering to each other; and I crept nearer and nearer till I could hear all they said.
“‘When shall we come?’ said one.
“‘To-night,’ said the other, who had red hair and a freckled face, ‘when the moon is up, and the little beggars are all asleep. Then we can easily knock them on the head, and get the nuts without being bitten. They bite like wild-cats when they are roused, these little fellows.’
“‘All right!’ said the other, whose face I could not see. ‘I’ll bring a bag and be here at eight o’clock.’
“‘Will you?’ thought I, and I crept away again, having heard all I wanted to know. I went back to the others, and presently a snapping and crackling told me that the boys were gone. Then I went to Uncle Munkle and told him what I had heard. He was very angry, and whisked his tail about till he nearly whisked it off. ‘Call your large friend,’ he said, ‘and we will hold a council.’ So I waked Coon—”