The Ragged Month 65 



in the bluff, or a dark safe place in some de- 

 serted building. 



Negroes call the screech-owl " squinch- 

 owels," and hold them in dread as prophets and 

 fore-runners of bad luck. A screech-owl cry- 

 ing on the roof they say brings death to the 

 house ; if he perches on the fence he is " callin' 

 trouble," and if he drops down the chimney 

 either hunting swallows, or hiding himself from 

 sudden daylight, somebody will get burned to 

 death within the year. There are various coun- 

 ter-charms — flinging salt, a black walnut, or 

 an Irish potato at him, chewing a tow wad to 

 shoot him, or making everybody in the house, 

 when he comes down the chimney, walk out 

 of it behind him as he flies away. To kill 

 him inside would simply clinch the ill luck. 

 Even to hear him screech in woods or fields 

 when anybody is sick, means that the sick 

 person will die, or come near death. 



Woodlands stand hushed and desert in this, 

 the turn of the summer. There are days when 

 no wind stirs either the low leaf or the high. 

 Oak-leaves are stiff, and shine as though var- 

 nished, especially those of the Spanish oak, 

 and the scrubby black-jack. Dew drenches 

 the fields, yet is light in the woods upland. 

 Trees growing along the creek, or in low 

 moist swales, gather it so heavily the least 

 ruffle of air toward morning sends heavy drops 



