Mine did, once.

Fust one will take it up, then the rest will foller." An approving chuckle at Uncle Solon's sagacity ran round, and some one asked what could be done in such a case to stop the cows from eating the acorns.
"Wal, I'll tell ye what I did," said Uncle Solon, his homely face puckering in a reminiscent smile.

"I went out airly in the mornin', before I turned my cows to parster, and picked up the acorns under all the oak-trees.

I sot down on a rock, took a hammer and cracked them green acorns, cracked 'em 'bout halfway open at the butt end.

With my left-hand thumb and forefinger, I held the cracked acorn open by squeezing it, and with my right I dropped a pinch o' Cayenne pepper into each acorn, then let 'em close up again.
"It took me as much as an hour to fix up all them acorns.