THE BARN OWL 27 



perhaps has entered, once in a way, and in its fright has 



upset a lamp. Superstition grows on very meagre fare. 



This ally of the agriculturalist has been ill-repaid for his 



services. 



Butler writes : 



" An Owl that in a barn 



Sees a mouse creeping in the corn, 

 Sits still and shuts his round blue eyes 

 As if he slept, until he spies 

 The little beast within his reach, 

 Then starts, and seizes on the wretch." 



" Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him, 



All mock him outright by day, 

 But at night, when the woods grow still and dim, 

 The boldest will shrink away." 



But why this is so who can tell? If the Barn Owl 

 shows himself by day, Rooks and Starlings, Blackbirds, 

 both species of Thrush, Chaffinches, Tits and Wrens 

 will mob him ; and he flies awkwardly from tree to tree, 

 with dazed eyes and apparently "mazed," as the country 

 folks says, altogether, till he can find a hole in a tree 

 where he can hide himself. He may well like hollows 

 in trees for, as the poet says, " the Owl, with all his 

 feathers, is a-cold." This is not hard to understand, for 

 the breast feathers are so light and fluffy that the wind 

 easily parts them, laying bare the shivering skin. 



His frequent choice of an old dovecote as a home 

 was misunderstood. The ignorant countryman thought 

 it was in order to prey on the young pigeons that he 

 selected a corner there, whereas and Waterton was the 

 first to record the bird's reason, after watching the doings 

 of a pair of Barn Owls in his dovecote the Owls were 



