The Screech Owl 307 



hand and better than anything ever found in 

 books. Let us study it together. The old orchard is 

 before us; many of the trees have long since passed 

 their commercial usefulness, but they should be spared, 

 for they are now the homes of our animal friends. 

 Time and the elements have dealt harshly with them, 

 and the boisterous wind has torn many a limb asunder; 

 here, for many years, the flickers have drilled their 

 homes, and the cavities in the old trees have grown 

 larger year by year. Toward one old tree, one-half 

 of which is tipped over until it touches the ground, 

 many mice tracks converge, — probably the seeds in 

 the apples beneath the snow are the attraction, or 

 perhaps some other dainty well hked by the mouse. 

 We notice that here a weU defined track suddenly 

 ends, and we wonder where the mouse could have 

 gone; but if we look a little closer, we find, at the end 

 of the trail on either side, a sHght mark in the snow. 

 These marks were probably made by the wing-tips 

 of some night flying bird, in whose deadly grip the 

 little mouse met its end. We now examine some of 

 the cavities in the old trees, from one of which we 

 draw forth a plump, sleek screech owl. Could he 

 but talk, he would without doubt be able to explain 

 those marks in the snow, and to tell the reason why 

 the mouse would never again scamper about in the 



