42 OUR FRIENDS, THE BIRDS. 
SCREECH OWL. 
[ONE-FOURTH LIFE SIZE] 
sits upright on his perch and slowly and gravely turns 
his head to give an inquiring stare at any intruder. 
Miss Sweet said: “Timid and superstitious people 
find no ‘poetry of sound’ in the hooting of an owl, but 
shrink from it as a sound of evil and woe. If they but 
understood his language they would know that he is 
only wooing Mrs. Scops, and to her his tones are as 
sweet and musical as the ‘love song of the Veery’ to his 
mate.” ; 
“They are useful in ridding us of rats and mice,” 
said a practical boy. 
