LITTLE SOLOMON OTUS 



dom, with eyesight keen enough to see the folded leaves 

 of clover like little hands in prayer — a kingdom with 

 byways sweet with the scent and mellow with the beauty 

 of waking primrose? Who would not welcome, for one 

 wonderful night, the gift of ears that could hear the 

 sounds which to little Solomon were known and under- 

 stood, but many of which are lost in deafness to our dull 

 ears? 



Of course, it may be that Solomon never noticed that 

 clovers fold their leaves by night, or that primroses are 

 open and fragrant after dusk. For he was an owl, and 

 not a person, and his thoughts were not the thoughts of 

 man. But for all that they were wise thoughts — wise as 

 the look of his big round eyes; and many things he knew 

 which are unguessed secrets to dozy day-folk. 



He was a successful hunter, and he had a certain sort 

 of knowledge about the habits of the creatures he sought. 

 He seldom learned where the day birds slept, for he did 

 not find motionless things. But he knew well enough 

 that mice visited the corn-crib, and where their favorite 

 runways came out into the open. He knew where the 

 cutAvorms crept out of the ground and feasted o' nights 

 in the farmer's garden. He knew where the big brown 

 beetles hummed and buzzed while they munched greed- 

 ily of shade-tree leaves. And he knew where little fishes 

 swam near the surface of the water. 



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