38 WITHIN AN HOUR OF LONDON TOWN. 



conceal themselves and are forgotten : that which 

 cannot be counted is not missed. In the cool of 

 the evening these poor creatures, tortured with 

 pain, crawl from their hiding-places to die in 

 agony, or to be more mercifully despatched by 

 some animal or bird of prey in search of a meal. 

 Of all this no notice is taken ; but if any portion 

 of one of these is found in the owl's larder, how 

 roundly is he abused! Fair -play is a jewel too 

 often kept locked up. 



The short-eared owl, or woodcock of the marsh- 

 men, in the general tone of his colouring, his form, 

 and his flight, much resembles his near cousin the 

 long-eared owl ; and their eyes are much alike, but 

 he is still more hawk-like in his movements, and his 

 habitat is very different. 



A November gale sweeps over the marshes from 

 the north-east, causing the alder and willow branches 

 to crack and snap. The green plovers are all hud- 

 dled up in a bunch with their heads to the wind. 

 The wiry bent grass growing on the sea-wall bends 

 and switches like so many whips. The lap of the 

 tide on the saltings, the shriek of the curlew, and 

 the twitter of the dunlins tell you plainly birds will 



