BIRDS OF PREY. 17 



complaints to the moon. Poets should not 

 meddle with Owls. Shakespeare and Words- 

 worth alone understood them ; by all else they 

 have been scandalously libelled — from Virgil 

 to the Poet Close. 



The Barn Owl, when she has young, brings 

 to her nest a mouse about every twelve 

 minutes ; and, as she is actively employed both 

 at evening and dawn, and as male and female 

 hunt, forty mice a day is the lowest computa- 

 tation we can make. How soft is the plumage 

 of the Owl, and how noiseless her flight ! Watch 

 her as she floats past the ivy tod, down by the 

 ricks, and silently over the old wood ; then 

 away over the meadows, through the open door, 

 and out of the loop-hole of the barn ; round 

 the lichened tower, and along the course of the 

 brook. Presently she returns to her four 

 downy young, with a mouse in one claw and 

 a vole in the other, soon to be ripped up, 

 torn, and eaten by the greedy, snapping imps. 

 Young and eggs are not unfrequently found in 

 the same nest. 



If you would see the midday siesta of these 

 birds, climb up into some hay-mow. There 

 in an angle of the beam, you will see their 



