LITTLE SOLOMON OTUS 



robber if that fish had meant a three-night fishing at 

 an air-hole in the ice? He did n't care (and probably 

 did n't know) who caught it. It tasted good on a frosty 

 day, so he feasted on fish in Solomon's pantry, while the 

 httle ow^l slept. 



Well, if Jay, the bold dashing fellow, held noisy revel 

 during the dazzling winter days, night came every once 

 in so often; and then a quavering call, tremulous yet un- 

 afraid, told the listening world that an elf of the moon- 

 light was claiming his own. And if some shivered at the 

 sound, others there were who welcomed it as a challenge 

 to enter the realm of a winter's night. 



For, summer or winter, the night holds much of mys- 

 tery, close to the heart of which lives a little downy owl, 

 who wings his way silent as a shadow, whither he will. 

 And when he calls, people who love the stars and the 

 wonders they shine down upon sometimes go out to the 

 woods and talk with him, for the words he speaks are not 

 hard even for a human voice to say. There was once a 

 boy, so a great poet tells us, who stood many a time at 

 evening beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake, 

 and called the owls that they might answer him. While 

 he listened, who knows what the bird of wisdom told 

 him about the night? 



