THE OWLS. 



ALMOST the greatest crime which any one can 

 commit on my estate/' said a modern statesman, 

 the late Lord Kimberley, "is to kill an Owl." 



He meant that not only was the bonny brown bird 

 with the queer round face a favourite of his, but that he 

 knew the valuable work it did in clearing the land of rats 

 and mice and other pests. 



Others beside Lord Kimberley have protested against 

 the killing of Owls, and the number of these wise persons 

 is ever growing. But there are still, even in Great 

 Britain, all too many farmers and gamekeepers who refuse 

 to believe that there is anything but mischief in an Owl. 

 It is a very old belief, and like other popular errors it 

 dies hard. 



"It is against my rule to shoot at an Owl," wrote 

 Charles St. John, who had wandered over many an estate 

 in Scotland, gun in hand, but more keen on watching the 

 ways and habits of birds than on shooting them. 



He speaks warmly, in his delightful Wild Sports of the 

 Highlands, of the good services with which Owls repay the 

 landowner who allows them to remain and multiply And 

 he gives an instance in which, the old-fashioned pole-traps 

 (now forbidden by law) having destroyed most of the Owls 

 and hawks in a certain neighbourhood, the rats and mice 

 increased so terribly that the nursery-gardens and farm- 

 buildings were overrun with them, and untold damage 



was done. At last the pole-traps were removed, the Owls 



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