244 
My Little Owls. 
could have cured him I sliall never know, for one night an 
accident overtook him which hastened the end. On being let 
out lie had flown, as he often did, to the top of his small 
travelling cage which happened to be standing on the edge 
of the wardrobe. As he hopped from back to front, the cage 
overbalanced and fell with a crash to the ground with Peeps 
underneath. He lay quite still with wings spread wide, and 
for a time seemed paralyzed, though he retained sufficient 
presence of mind to bite me sharply when 1 picked him up. 
In a few minutes, however, he was able to stand and move 
about and I felt more hopeful, but alas I from the day of his 
injury he drooped more and more, and a week later he died. 
Poor Peeps! In spite of his quick temper he was a 
most affectionate little fellow and at all times the most' in- 
telligent and amusing of companions. My room seemed sadly 
empty without the little grey hgure and strangely silent with- 
out his quaint conversation which so well expressed all his 
needs and feelings. No longer would an impatient nibble at 
my ear remind me that dinner was late, nor would the soft 
round head be lifted for me to stroke and the bright yellow 
eyes, gazing into mine, close in sleepy content as I answered 
the appeal. After the death of her mate Mrs. Peeps seemed 
to grow shyer and her lonely calling reminded me so pain- 
fully of the loss we both had suffered that I decided to give 
her her liberty. There was little fear that she would be un- 
able to find food for she must have hunted for herself before 
she came to me, and at the time of her release was as quick 
and strong and in. as perfect condition as if she had never 
known captivity. For a few days she stayed about the house 
and once came back for the food we put out for her ; then 
she drifted away, probably with a fresh mate, and for all I 
know may be still alive. 
It was more than three years before I kept another 
Little Owl, for somehow I felt that Peeps could never be quite 
replaced and I had not the heart to make the attempt. One 
day in February, however, an adult bird was brought in with 
a badly broken wing, and 1 resolved to adopt the sufferer 
and see what I could do with her. Like Mrs. Peeps, Kirrie, 
as I afterwards named her, was a Very gentle bird and, even 
