THE CAT-OWL. 



" INTELLIGENCE like our own is seen to be looking out upon us 

 from every tuft of grass, and from every heathery knoll, from the soli- 

 tudes of the forests and the shady dells." CALDERWOOD. 



THIS midwinter twilight I ride over the 

 clean white track, and note the changing 

 shadows of the departing day as they deepen 

 into darker purple along the overhanging snow- 

 drifts, where the north wind, the "fierce arti- 

 ficer," has built in " frolic architecture " the 

 endless curves of beauty. The voice of every 

 beast and bird is hushed, the short twilight is 

 fast disappearing, the solemn star-eyed night, 

 with shade after shade, shuts out the distant 

 hill and nearer wood. Like some spirit of the 

 oncoming darkness, with stealthy wings a huge 

 bird comes directly towards me, like a black 

 spot slanting across the snowy background. 

 He passed me with an upward swirl of his 

 strong pinions, and turns his ugly countenance 

 on me with a twist of his neck, and I can see 

 the yellow-green of his eyes, the hook of his 



