276 THE BARN OWL, 



appearance on the world's wide stage. Thus Franklin brought down 

 fire from the skies " Eripnit fulmen ccelo, sceptrumque tyrannis." 

 Paganini has led all London captive by a single piece of twisted 

 ca tgut " Tu potes reges comitesque stultos ducere? Leibnitz tells 

 us of a dog in Germany that could pronounce distinctly thirty words. 

 Goldsmith informs us that he once heard a raven whistle the tune 

 of the " Shamrock," with great distinctness, truth, and humour. 

 With these splendid examples before our eyes, may we not be in- 

 clined to suppose that the barn owl which Sir William shot, in the 

 absolute act of hooting, may have been a gifted bird of superior 

 parts and knowledge (una de multis, as Horace said of Miss Danaus), 

 endowed, perhaps, from its early days with the faculty of hooting, 

 or else skilled in the art by having been taught it by its neighbour, 

 the tawny owl ? I beg to remark, that though I unhesitatingly grant 

 the faculty of hooting to this one particular individual owl, still I 

 flatly refuse to believe that hooting is common to barn owls in 

 general. Ovid in his sixth book, Fastorum, pointedly says that it 

 screeched in his day : 



"Est illis strigibus nomen ; sed nominis hujus 

 Causa, quod horrenda stridere nocte solent." 



The barn owl may be heard shrieking here perpetually on the por- 

 tico, and in the large sycamore trees near the house. It shrieks 

 equally when the moon shines and when the night is rough and 

 cloudy ; and he who takes an interest in it may here see the barn owl 

 the night through when there is a moon ; and he may hear it shriek 

 when perching on the trees, or when it is on wing. He may see it 

 and hear it shriek, within a few yards of him, long before dark ; and 

 again, often after daybreak, before it takes its final departure to its 

 wonted resting-place. I am amply repaid for the pains I have taken 

 to protect and encourage the barn owl ; it pays me a hundred-fold by 

 the enormous quantity of mice which it destroys throughout the year. 

 The servants now no longer wish to persecute it. Often, on a fine 

 summer's evening, with delight I see the villagers loitering under the 

 sycamore trees longer than they would otherwise do, to have a peep 

 at the barn owl as it leaves the ivy-mantled tower : fortunate for it, 

 if in lieu of exposing itself to danger by mixing with the world at 



