The Birds and Poets 255 



of young owlets and fed them huge quantities of 

 mice, rats, rabbits, birds, etc. The following sea- 

 son they were gone somewhere into the dense forest. 

 Ever since that early experience I have enter- 

 tained a very wholesome respect for the great 

 horned owl. Truly he is the Eagle of the night 

 and the King of nocturnal birds. One of the 

 acknowledged classics among bird poems, is "The 

 Owl," by Bryan Waller Procter (Barry Cornwall, 

 pseud.) : 



"In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower, 

 The spectral Owl doth dwell; 

 Dull, hated, despised in the sunshine hour, 

 But at dusk he's abroad and well 1 

 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. 

 O, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl, 

 Then, then, is the reign of the Horned Owl! 



So, when the night falls, and dogs do howl. 

 Sing, Ho! for the reign of the Horned Owl! 



We know not alway 



Who are Kings by day; 

 But the King of the night is the bold brown Owl.'* 



He is the "Hoot Owl" of our childhood days. 

 His usual call is a loud, deep-toned "whoo, hoo- 



