220 
AN EVENING REVELLER 
In the close, quiet Cedars of the suburban woods the 
Screech-owl finds a comfortable home throughout the 
winter* He is impervious to the vagaries of the 
weather, for, like most members of the owl family, 
he does not dissipate in foreign travel or otherwise 
attempt to elude the changing seasons* All day he 
perches silently in the deep shade of the Evergreens, 
closing his eyes against the light that struggles 
persistently through, poised as a sentinel, with ears 
erect and seemingly alert to all the passing activities 
of the winter woods* But that is merely an uncon- 
scious pretence, for the little sentinel, no bigger than 
a Robin, is almost as oblivious to his surroundings 
as the dull grey limb he so closely resembles* Vagrant 
Dogs may rush through the snow and sniff at the 
hidden trails of the Field Mice, and he will scarcely 
incline his head toward the noisy commotion* The 
hunted Cotton-tail, leaping over the snow to his 
burrow, with< wild -eyed memory of the Ferrets 
underground and the Dogs and guns awaiting his 
escape, passes and leaves his quadruple track un- 
noticed* Chickadees swing under adjacent twigs 
and feast on the clinging insects in the crevices of 
