LITTLE SOLOMON OTUS 



ing Solomon. I don't know that this was because he 

 really disliked the little owl. Jay was as full of mischief 

 as a crow, and if the world got to seeming a bit dull, in- 

 stead of moping and feeling sorry and waiting for some- 

 thing to happen, Jay looked about for someway of amus- 

 ing himself. He was something of a bully, — a great 

 deal of a bully, in fact, — this dashing rascal in a gay 

 blue coat ; and the more he could swagger, the better he 

 liked it. 



He seemed, too, to have very much the same feeling 

 that we mean by joy, in fun and frolic. There was, per- 

 haps, in the sight of a bird asleep and listless iii broad 

 daylight, something amusing. He was in the habit of 

 seeing the feather-folk scatter at his approach. If he 

 understood why, that did n't bother him any. He was 

 used to it, and there is no doubt he liked the power he 

 had of making his fellow creatures fly around. When he 

 found, sitting on a branch, with two toes front and two 

 toes back, a downy puff with big round eyes and a Ro- 

 man nose and feather-horns sticking up like the ears of a 

 cat, maybe he was a bit puzzled because it did n't fly, 

 too. Perhaps he did n't quite know what to make of 

 poor little Solomon, who, disturbed from his nap, just 

 drew himself up slim and tall, and remarked, ^^Oh!" in 

 a sweet high voice. 



But, puzzled or not. Jay knew very well what he 



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