230 WASTE-LAND WANDERINGS. 



So far as my own observation extends, they do not 

 appear to suffer, even during the extreme heat of our 

 midsummer. The late Dr. Richard Harlan, of Philadel- 

 phia, a noted naturalist of his day and generation, kept 

 one in his cellar for seven years. It became quite tame, 

 but was averse to being approached by strangers. The 

 doctor might have kept it even longer, had he not so 

 frequently made use of it to frighten the children in 

 the neighborhood. This finally caused it to suddenly 

 disappear, much to the satisfaction of the young people 

 and chagrin of the surly, grim-visaged doctor. I have 

 this from my mother, who was once badly frightened by 

 the owl, and who, shortly afterwards, headed the con- 

 spiracy that succeeded in making way with the bird. 



The last considerable flight of snowy owls into New 

 Jersey was in the winter of 1876-77. Notices of speci- 

 mens shot were frequent in the local papers, and quite 

 a number were offered for sale in the markets. 



It has been frequently stated that the flesh of these 

 owls is fine and delicate ; but such has not proved true 

 of specimens killed in this neighborhood. All were very 

 tough, and of a disagreeable musky flavor. 



The one prominent feature of the landing is the 

 spring. From a little ravine that extends back into the 

 bluff there issues a considerable stream of purest water, 

 cold, colorless, and sparkling. Towards the creek it hur- 

 ries rippling over snow-white pebbles, tarrying a second 

 by some projecting root, and then with greater speed 

 passes it by, " to join the brimming river." 



One naturally pauses at a bubbling spring, even if not 



