THE BARN OWL 143 



case it will take a young bird, which is usually a 

 sparrow. Most people will agree that we can spare a 

 few sparrows ; nevertheless, that cruel idiot, the game- 

 keeper, classes the barn owl as vermin and shoots it 

 whenever he has the chance. This is fairly often, 

 owing to the confiding habits of the creature. It will 

 enter a bungalow after rats or moths, and will sometimes 

 terrify the timid sleeper by sitting on the end of his bed 

 and screaming at him 1 



The owl is blessed with an appetite that would do 

 credit to an alderman. Lord Lilford states that he saw 

 " a young half-grown barn owl take down nine full- 

 grown mice, one after another, until the tail of the 

 ninth stuck out of his mouth, and in three hours' time 

 was crying for more." Let me anticipate the captious 

 critic by saying that it was the owl and not the tail of 

 the ninth mouse that, like Oliver Twist, called for more. 

 Moreover, the tail did not, as might be supposed, stick 

 out because the bird was " full up inside." The barn owl 

 invariably swallows a mouse head first ; it makes a mighty 

 gulp, with the result that the whole of the mouse, except 

 the tail, disappears. Thus the victim remains for a 

 short time in order that the owl may enjoy the bomie 

 bouche. Then the tail disappears suddenly, and the 

 curtain is rung down on the first act of the tragedy. 

 The second and third acts are like unto the first. The 

 last act is not very polite, but it must be described in 

 the interests of science. After an interval of a few 

 hours the owl throws up, in the form of a pellet, the 

 bones, fur, and other undigestible portions of his victims. 

 This is, of course, very bad manners, but it is the inevit- 



