CONCERNING SMALL OWLS, m 



I became no mystery to them, and upward and 

 outward over the meadows, with a great whirring 

 of their wings, they vanished. 



This was so trivial an incident that, had it no 

 sequel, would not be worthy of record. I have 

 said I whistled shrilly a single note. It roused 

 a sleeping cardinal near by, which straightened 

 its crest, shook out its rumpled down, stared into 

 vacant space, and whistled in return. I quickly 

 replied, and so we had the woods to echo with 

 our calls. "What can the matter be?" asked 

 another and another of these birds, until the 

 whole hillside sounded with their cries. I was 

 lonely no longer. The moon shone with added 

 luster, the grewsome shadows of the dwarfed 

 cedars fled, and, but for the twinkling of a mill- 

 ion stars, I might have thought it day. But the 

 pleasing fancy was of short duration. Bird after 

 bird resumed its slumbers. Silence and a deep- 

 er gloom reigned in the forest, nor did my heart 

 cease to beat nervously until I reached my home. 



Concerning Small 



IT may be April according to the almanac, 

 and yet midwinter, judging by the thermometer ; 

 and perhaps, as a rule, March winds continue 



