“Oh, nothing, of course, but they say that is one of the marks of genius. Remarkable people, you know, never come down to common life.”
“He eats enough for any two,” said old Nutcracker, “and he never helps gather nuts.”
“But, my dear, Parson Too-Whit, who has talked with Featherhead, says the boy has very fine feelings,—so much above those of the common crowd.”
“Feelings be hanged,” snapped old Nutcracker. “When a fellow eats all the nuts that his mother gives him, and then grumbles at her, I don’t believe much in his fine feelings. Why doesn’t he do something? I’m going to tell my fine young gentleman that if he doesn’t behave himself I’ll tumble him out of the nest neck and crop, and see if hunger won’t do something toward bringing down his fine airs.”
“Oh, my dear,” sobbed Mrs. Nutcracker, falling on her husband’s neck with both paws, “do be patient with our darling boy.”
Now although the Nutcrackers belonged to the fine old race of the Grays, they kept on the best of terms with all branches of the squirrel family. They were very friendly to the Chipmunks of Chipmunk Hollow. Young Tip Chipmunk, the oldest son, was in all respects a perfect contrast to Master Featherhead. Tip was lively and cheerful, and very alert in getting food for the family. Indeed, Mr. and Mrs. Chipmunk had very little care, but could sit at the door of their hole and chat with neighbours, quite sure that Tip would bring everything out right for them, and have plenty laid up for winter.
“What a commonplace fellow that Tip Chipmunk is,” sneered Featherhead one day. “I shall take care not to associate with him.”
“My dear, you are too hard on poor Tip,” said Mrs. Nutcracker. “He is a very good son, I’m sure.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt he’s good enough,” said Featherhead, “but he’s so common. He hasn’t an idea in his skull above his nuts and Chipmunk Hollow. He is good-natured enough, but, dear me, he has no manners! I hope, mother, you won’t invite the Chipmunks to the Thanksgiving dinner—these family dinners are such a bore.”
“But, my dear Featherhead, your father thinks a great deal of the Chipmunks—they are our relatives you know,” said Mother Nutcracker.