IRatiue IRotes : 
TThe Selborne Society's fll^aoasine. 
No. 57. SEPTEMBER, 1894. Vol. V. 
ASNAPPER, THE OWL. 
^HILST enjoying the fresh beauty of my garden in the 
month of May, with its wealth of flowers and rich 
variety of leafage, my eyes happened to light upon 
a greyish tuft of feathers in a rhododendron bush. 
Curiosity led me to examine this tuft more closely, when, to my 
surprise, I found it to be a young brown owl — alive, indeed, but 
in a very exhausted condition. It appeared to be only a few 
weeks old, fully feathered, yet unable to feed itself ; I suppose 
it had fallen out of the nest and was dying for lack of food. I 
need hardly say I carried the poor orphan indoors, and did my 
best to feed and restore him, and right well did he second my 
efforts. A juicy, uncooked mutton chop was cut up and mixed 
with feathers, and with resounding snaps of his great beak the 
morsels were received and swallowed. A second chop was dis- 
posed of before my friend seemed satisfied, and with such a 
mighty appetite I felt there would be no difficulty in rearing him. 
Next morning we happened to find two dead sparrows and a 
mouse, these soon disappeared and had to be supplemented by a 
piece of raw meat ; and if this is the daily diet of a very young 
owl we may form some idea of the way in which full-grown birds 
must reduce the hordes of mice and rats which would otherwise 
overrun the country. 
Whenever we passed the owl’s cage he gave a resounding 
snap with his beak, not viciously but as a friendly recognition, 
and somehow this habit suggested the name of the Assyrian 
king, the “ noble Asnapper,” until this, familiarly contracted To 
“ Snap ” for every-day use, became the recognised title of our 
new pet. 
Asnapper lived quietly enough during the day in a large cage 
