"Really, Mr. Brush," said his partner, "if you make such a fool of yourself, I wont speak another word to you all day. What has all this nonsense to do with the serious conversation you wished to have with me about the children?" "Oh yes, it was about the children I wanted to talk to you," replied Brush, "and not about old Broken----. Well, well, I wont say anything more about him, then, so come and sit down quietly again, and I'll be very serious indeed! There! now we are all right once more. Well, my dear, now then about these children of ours. I believe you know what I am going to say--_we must part from them_, Mrs. Brush! It is high time for you and me to see about putting the nest in order for another family, and these three children of ours must go and see the world, and find companions for themselves, for the rest of their lives. I only hope that when the boys are seeking for companions they will not break their tails like old ----; I mean, I hope they will both meet with as good a partner as their mother has been to me." The two old squirrels had a great deal more talk upon this subject, but as conversation about family affairs is often rather tiresome, I shall not repeat all they said about the matter. Though they both regretted parting from their children, they were convinced that a separation was necessary, and they agreed that the sooner it took place the better. Perhaps you may think they were rather unamiable and hard-hearted, in treating their children in this manner; but you must remember that, though these were not yet a year old, they were very nearly, if not quite, as large as their parents, and were well able to take care of themselves. When the young squirrels were informed of this determination, they were very sorry at first; but the thoughts of being their own masters, and of having comfortable nests of their own, reconciled them to the separation. I never heard what good advice their parents gave them at parting, but I have not the least doubt that Brush cautioned them to beware of the sad fate of old Brokentail. So the three children, leaving their native tree, set off by themselves into the wide world, and I have nothing more to tell you about _them_. We must see what Brush and his companion did during the rest of the summer, what adventures they met with, and what new acquaintances they found among the various animals that lived in the neighbourhood of their beautiful oak-tree. Here I must give you a short description of the place where this tree grew, and where it had flourished for five or six hundred years at least.