Queer Little Folks | Page 8

tree; he had
thoughts that soared far above the miserable, petty details of every-day
life, and he could not and would not bring down these soaring
aspirations to the contemptible toil of laying up a few chestnuts or
hickory-nuts for winter.
"Depend upon it, my dear," said Mrs. Nutcracker solemnly, "that fellow
must be a genius."
"Fiddlestick on his genius!" said old Mr. Nutcracker; "what does he
DO?"
"Oh, nothing, of course; that's one of the first marks of genius.
Geniuses, you know, never can come down to common life."
"He eats enough for any two," remarked old Nutcracker, "and he never
helps to gather nuts."
"My dear, ask Parson Too-whit. He has conversed with him, and quite
agrees with me that he says very uncommon things for a squirrel of his
age; he has such fine feelings,--so much above those of the common
crowd."
"Fine feelings be hanged!" said 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 don't he set himself about
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 towards bringing down his fine
airs."
But then Mrs. Nutcracker fell on her husband's neck with both paws,
and wept, and besought him so piteously to have patience with her
darling, that old Nutcracker, who was himself a soft-hearted old
squirrel, was prevailed upon to put up with the airs and graces of his
young scapegrace a little longer; and secretly in his silly old heart he
revolved the question whether possibly it might not be that a great
genius was actually to come of his household.
The Nutcrackers belonged to the old-established race of the Grays, but

they were sociable, friendly people, and kept on the best of terms with
all branches of the Nutcracker family. The Chipmunks of Chipmunk
Hollow were a very lively, cheerful, sociable race, and on the very best
of terms with the Nutcracker Grays. Young Tip Chipmunk, the oldest
son, was in all respects a perfect contrast to Master Featherhead. He
was always lively and cheerful, and so very alert in providing for the
family, that old Mr. and Mrs. Chipmunk had very little care, but could
sit sociably 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.
Now Featherhead took it upon him, for some reason or other, to look
down upon Tip Chipmunk, and on every occasion to disparage him in
the social circle, as a very common kind of squirrel, with whom it
would be best not to associate too freely.
"My dear," said Mrs. Nutcracker one day, when he was expressing
these ideas, "it seems to me that you are too hard on poor Tip; he is a
most excellent son and brother, and I wish you would be civil to him."
"Oh, I don't doubt that Tip is GOOD enough," said Featherhead
carelessly; "but then he is so very common! he hasn't an idea in his
skull above his nuts and his hole. He is good-natured enough, to be
sure,--these very ordinary people often are good-natured,--but he wants
manner; he has really no manner at all; and as to the deeper feelings,
Tip hasn't the remotest idea of them. I mean always to be civil to Tip
when he comes in my way, but I think the less we see of that sort of
people the better; and I hope, mother, you won't invite the Chipmunks
at Christmas,--these family dinners are such a bore!"
"But, my dear, your father thinks a great deal of the Chipmunks; and it
is an old family custom to have all the relatives here at Christmas."
"And an awful bore it is! Why must people of refinement and elevation
be forever tied down because of some distant relationship? Now there
are our cousins the High-Flyers,--if we could get them, there would be
some sense in it. Young Whisk rather promised me for Christmas; but
it's seldom now you can get a flying squirrel to show himself in our
parts, and if we are intimate with the Chipmunks it isn't to be
expected."
"Confound him for a puppy!" said old Nutcracker, when his wife
repeated these sayings to him. "Featherhead is a fool. Common,

forsooth! I wish good, industrious, painstaking sons like Tip Chipmunk
WERE common. For my part, I find these uncommon people the most
tiresome. They are not content with letting us carry the whole load, but
they sit on it, and scold at us while we carry them."
But old