trunk of
an old apple-tree near my house. How they found the owl out is a
mystery, since it never ventures forth in the light of day; but they
did, and proclaimed the fact with great emphasis. I suspect the
bluebirds first told them, for these birds are constantly peeping into
holes and crannies, both spring and fall. Some unsuspecting bird
probably entered the cavity, prospecting for a place for next year's
nest, or else looking out a likely place to pass a cold night, when it
has rushed with very important news. A boy who should unwittingly
venture into a bear's den when Bruin was at home could not be more
astonished and alarmed than a bluebird would be on finding itself in the
cavity of a decayed tree with an owl. At any rate, the bluebirds joined
the jays, in calling the attention of all whom it might concern to the
fact that a culprit of some sort was hiding from the light of day in the
old apple-tree. I heard the notes of warning and alarm and approached to
within eyeshot. The bluebirds were cautious, and hovered about uttering
their peculiar twittering calls; but the jays were bolder, and took
turns looking in at the cavity and deriding the poor shrinking owl. A
jay would alight in the entrance of the hole, and flirt and peer and
attitudinize, and then fly away crying "Thief, thief, thief," at the top
of his voice.

I climbed up and peered into the opening, and could just descry the owl
clinging to the inside of the tree. I reached in and took him out,
giving little heed to the threatening snapping of his beak. He was as
red as a fox and as yellow-eyed as a cat. He made no effort to escape,
but planted his claws in my forefinger and clung there with a grip that
soon grew uncomfortable. I placed him in the loft of an out-house in
hopes of getting better acquainted with him. By day he was a very
willing prisoner, scarcely moving at all even when approached and
touched with the hand, but looking out upon the world with half-closed
sleepy eyes. But at night what a change; how alert, how wild, how
active! He was like another bird; he darted about with wild fearful
eyes, and regarded me like a cornered cat. I opened the window, and
swiftly, but as silently as a shadow, he glided out into the congenial
darkness, and perhaps ere this has revenged himself upon the sleeping
jay or bluebird that first betrayed his hiding-place.

Copyrighted by Houghton, Mifflin and Company, Boston.

WAITING

Serene, I fold my han