CHAPTER LVII 



THE OWLS 



All gloom-loving birds have always tlie m^'stery of crepus- 

 cule attached to them ; their very distinction is due to their 

 uncommon feeding hour, grotesque appearance, and solemn 

 vacuity ; for, far from being a bird of wisdom, the owl is, like 

 many a solemn savage, a low type intellectually, solemnity 

 and mediocrity being oft found together, two qualities that 

 impose upon the superficial observer merely. 



Three kinds frequent the broadlands — the barn or church 

 owl, the long-eared or horn-owl, and the little short-eared 

 or " marsh-owl," as he is commonly called in Norfolk. 



The Barn-Owl. 



When the silvery mists are rising and lurking on marsh 

 and mere like phantoms, you may hear the shrill screech 

 of the barn-owl as he beats with heavy flight round the 

 stacks and out-buildings of some lone marsh-farm in search 

 of mice or young rats — his staple foods. 



At all seasons of the year you may see this bird hawking 

 through the gloom, and if you be an expert with your lips — 

 shutting them tightly, and suddenly drawing your breath 

 in, making a squeaking kind of noise — you may decoy him 

 to fly between you and the stars ; but his large eyes detect 

 the fraudulent imitation, and he flies contemptuously over- 

 head to some big ivy-green tree or stack to meditate on that 

 absurd creature man ; but that is one way to shoot him. 



Another, practised upon "softs," is to give them a sieve, 



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