WINTER'S EVE 



(To T. H. H. T.) 



" Woo oo oo " 



Long drawn out as though the note is 

 bubbling through water, it quavers from 

 the dark wood yonder, seen in the dim 

 light of the stars. From the other wood, 

 across the grass land, a plain hoot floats 

 back. Woo-loo, woo-loo ! No sound of 

 wings beating the flight of the wood owl 

 is silent, his broad wings, covered with the 

 softest down, fan the air as he proceeds 

 through the wood. 



Woo oo ! Woo oo ! There is mystery 

 in the cry. All other creatures are silent, 

 except the field mice and voles running 

 over the ground. They cannot be seen 

 by the human eye, but I can hear their 

 squeaks. Again the faraway answer haunts 



across the darkness over the grass. The 

 196 



