A SECLUDED CORNER. 185 



turn to beautiful shades of crimson and gold ; but, if 

 there has been a drought, then they are merely browned 

 and soon drop. In either case, it is in October, and not 

 until then, that we fully realize the summer is past. 

 With this change, there comes another quite as marked 

 in the animal life. The few birds that remain change 

 their habits materially, while the many summer sojourn- 

 ers seek a sunnier clime. The birds that went northward 

 in May now return, and after tarrying a few days pass 

 on to the south ; and late in the month arctic and semi- 

 arctic birds come among us to remain during the winter. 



In our secluded corner there has come more than once 

 a change that I am ever ready to greet with gladness. The 

 hollow maple, that throughout the summer has securely 

 housed a family of short-eared owls, now gives evidence 

 of the fact by dropping the leafy screen that hid them. 

 Although fully grown and strong upon the wing, these 

 owls continue to haunt the tree, probably because the sur- 

 rounding meadows are so wet. While not blinded by 

 daylight, it is during the gloaming and moonlit nights 

 that they are most active, and the number of meadow-mice 

 they destroy is extraordinary. 



Of a single owl, however, but little can be said. It is 

 in summer, when parents and young are still together, 

 that one should see them. Then, indeed, it becomes evi- 

 dent, first, that owls are great talkers ; and, secondly, that 

 they are decidedly intelligent. I was impressed with these 

 facts during one pleasant, moonlit summer night, when, 

 having taken my stand, I saw the whole family of six as 

 they came from their home. The old birds first appeared, 

 flew directly toward the meadow, and disappeared in the 

 long grass. Soon the four young birds made their appear- 

 ance, but only to creep along the limbs of the tree, and then 

 settle themselves, in a lazy, muffled-up manner, as though 



