44 UNDER GREEN LEA VES 
the thatch of the barn. These are brown owls that 
have come up from the meadows. They have not 
yet finished their hunting, and they leave the barn to 
float down to the grass again. So much the better 
for the farmer ; if he had twenty owls instead of a 
couple about his premises it would be a good visita- 
tion for him, for when the grass is mown, a boy will 
be put to walk behind the mowing machine, where he 
will be sure to be accompanied by another, a volunteer, 
who goes for the sport of the thing. It is a much 
envied post ; the first lad is the mousekiller, and he 
is armed with a stick three feet or so in length, of 
ground ash by choice. The invited friend must cut 
his from the willows. How often have I watched 
this proceeding. The boys will wait for the machine 
to make a couple of swathes, one up and one down, 
then they follow it up on each side. ' Dog mice ! ' 
they yell, as the large creatures bolt from the track. 
Down come the sticks, and the boys gather their 
short-tailed, large-headed quarry as they run. What 
with the clacking rattle of the mower, and the click of 
the boys' sticks, the mice have a very uncomfortable 
time of it If we waited now long enough, those 
boys would be sure to come with a dozen of the finest, 
and ask if I ' wanted 'em for owls.' I have never 
found myself firm enough to refuse these, for the in- 
