186 RAMBLES ABOUT HOME. 



nothing remained to be done. All the while the old 

 birds kept up a peculiar call more like a scream than a 

 hoot not altogether unpleasant to the ear. I am in 

 doubt whether the young owls made any reply, though 

 I took a faint clicking noise to be such. In a little while, 

 however, they began to get hungry, and then they uttered 

 unmistakable cries, to which the parent owls replied by 

 returning to the tree. In the beak of each owl was a 

 mouse, or what I took to be such, and when they alighted 

 on the maple I could detect, in the uncertain light, that 

 they did not approach closely to the young birds, but, 

 having removed the mice, which they now held in their 

 claws, they chattered and screamed to their young, in a 

 manner that could only be interpreted as, " Come over 

 here and get your mouse." It was evident that the 

 young owls were to be taught to help themselves, and to 

 practice their power of flight. As an inducement to do 

 the latter, the mice were held temptingly before them but 

 quite out of reach. Finally, one young owl, more ven- 

 turesome than his fellows, essayed to fly, but it was 

 a miserable failure, for, instead of reaching the desired 

 branch, it fell short a foot or more, and tumbled to the 

 ground. I can not prove that owls laugh, but I think any 

 one who heard the old birds just then would never doubt 

 the fact that they do. The funniest feature, however, 

 was that the three remaining young birds were disgusted 

 with what they saw, or were frightened by it at all 

 events, they hastened back to the nest, and I saw them 

 no more that evening. 



Of the poor fellow that fell to the ground there is 

 much to be said, as it was with it that the old birds were 

 now wholly concerned, and their actions were highly 

 entertaining. Leaving the tree they flew down to the 

 hapless bird, and muttered in low tones to it, in a most 



