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AN EVENING REVELLER 



IN the close, quiet Cedars of the suburban woods the 

 Screech-owl finds a comfortable home throughout the 

 winter* He is impervious to the vagaries of the 

 weather, for, like most members of the owl family, 

 he does not dissipate in foreign travel or otherwise 

 attempt to elude the changing seasons. All day he 

 perches silently in the deep shade of the Evergreens, 

 closing his eyes against the light that struggles 

 persistently through, poised as a sentinel, with ears 

 erect and seemingly alert to all the passing activities 

 of the winter woods. But that is merely an uncon- 

 scious pretence, for the little sentinel, no bigger than 

 a Robin, is almost as oblivious to his surroundings 

 as the dull grey limb he so closely resembles. Vagrant 

 Dogs may rush through the snow and sniff at the 

 hidden trails of the Field Mice, and he will scarcely 

 incline his head toward the noisy commotion. The 

 hunted Cotton-tail, leaping over the snow to his 

 burrow, with wild -eyed memory of the Ferrets 

 underground and the Dogs and guns awaiting his 

 escape, passes and leaves his quadruple track un- 

 noticed. Chickadees swing under adjacent twigs 

 and feast on the clinging insects in the crevices of 



