Good enough for she!’
“The grammar,” said October, “is defective, you observe. But that is little. Grammar and all other rules are defied by the strong-minded,—when they happen to be squirrels.
“This was last autumn. Just as I left, a lecture was announced upon ‘The Royal Family an Excrescence!’ What the state of affairs may be now I do not know, and I dare not guess. I confess that it is with reluctance that I return to the grove. From what I know of Miss Nutcracker, it would not surprise me to find all the old pleasant state of things changed, the King and Queen in exile, a Republic proclaimed, and Nippy at the head of affairs as Provisional Governess!”
Grandfather had been as much entertained at the story as any one. Listening, his face grew young again, his laugh mingled with the merry peals from Max and Thekla, and was almost as gay in sound. But, as October drew to a close, he seemed to become weary; and, when the last words were spoken, they looked at him, and he was fast asleep.
“Better so,” whispered October. “He will miss me less.”
In silence he measured his moments from the can; silently bent over the white head, and touched it with his lips; and on tiptoe stole from the room.
The children followed noiselessly.
“That story didn’t really have any end, did it?” said Thekla, when they were outside.
“No,” replied October, “there is no use trying to put ends to things which have Nippy Nutcrackers mixed up with them.”
