“Humph!” said Uncle Joe, clearing his throat. “If it’s going to do you any particular good, Car’lyn May, I suppose I can take a walk with you. I expect the chestnuts are ripe.”
“Oh, they are, Uncle Joe! And I’ve wanted to get just a few. But whenever Princey and I go to any of the trees near by, there are always squirrels—and they do quarrel so! I s’pose that’s all they’ll have to eat this winter, and maybe the winter is going to be a hard one. That’s what Tim, the hackman, says. I don’t want to rob the poor little squirrels. But couldn’t we give ’em something instead to eat, and so take a few of their nuts?”
“The squirrels always were piggish,” chuckled Uncle Joe. “I don’t believe they are entitled to more’n a bushel apiece. Anyway, we’ll take a basket with us.”
This they did. Although Aunty Rose was very strict with herself on Sunday, she did not disapprove of this walk. And certainly Prince did not.
Once off his chain and realising that they were bound for the woods, he acted like a mad dog for the first few minutes. As they crossed the already browning fields he dashed back and forth, now far ahead, now charging back at them as though determined to run them down. Then he rolled on the grass, crept on his stomach, tearing up the sod with his strong claws, and barking with delight.
“That fool pup hasn’t got the sense he was born with,” declared Uncle Joe, but without rancour.
“He’s just happy,” explained Carolyn May. “You see, he’s happy for himself and happy for us, too. So he just has to show off this way. It isn’t really that he hasn’t good sense, Uncle Joe.”
It was a crisp day—one of those autumn days when the tang of frost remains in the air, in spite of all the efforts of the sun to warm it. The sumac had blushed redly all along the hedgerows. The young oak leaves were brown and curled. Under foot, the dead leaves rustled and whispered. The bare-limbed beeches looked naked, indeed, among the other trees. Even the yellowing leaves of the chestnuts themselves were rattling down without a breath of wind stirring.
The jays screamed at the party as they wheeled swiftly through the wood. Once Prince jumped a rabbit from its form, and Uncle Joe actually urged the excited dog in his useless chase of the frightened creature. But Carolyn May could not approve of that.
“You see,” she said gravely, “although it’s lots of fun for Prince, we don’t know just how the rabbit feels about it. Maybe he doesn’t want to run so hard. There! Prince has given it up. I’m glad.”