But to pass the tedious winter without a supply of nuts appeared as great a hardship to the squirrels as it would be to us to live for several months upon bread and water. Therefore, after several consultations on the subject, it was at length agreed, that _nuts they would have_, at all hazards; for said Brush, "Better to be eaten up by the wild-cat than starved." So one fine morning the whole party set off to the hazel-copse. Now this reminds me of the happy hours I have myself passed in the woods, when I have joined a merry party of my young friends on one of those most joyful occasions, a _nutting expedition_. How can a day be passed more pleasantly? Oh! the delight of gathering the lovely brown clusters of five or six, or even sometimes seven or eight together! Then the dinner by the side of the clear stream, whose pure waters furnish not the least grateful part of the repast! and the notes of unrestrained merriment and joy, filling the woods with the echoes of sweet young voices! Even the torn frocks, and scratched hands and arms, are disregarded; and they are such common attendants upon these joyous expeditions, that to return from them with perfectly whole garments and _skins_, would imply that the bag of nuts might have been heavier, if the party had been less fearful of the brambles and thorns. Now for the squirrels again. The nuts were exactly in that state in which I like to find them--quite full and brown, and _almost_ ready to fall out of their husks. But not _quite_ ripe enough to do this, for then a great many are shaken out upon the ground, and lost. But the nuts were in perfection, and our party were employed the whole day in journeying backwards and forwards, between the hazel-copse and their storehouses in the old oak. No wild-cat or other enemy appeared, and the young squirrels began to think that their parents' continual cautions to be on the look out for this animal were unnecessary.