Solomon Owl

“ Solomon had never seen such a horrible face on man or bird or beast. But he was sure it was a man, for he heard a laugh that was not to be mistaken for either a beast’s or a bird’s. And the worst of it was, those blazing eyes were turned squarely toward Farmer Green’s chicken house!
Solomon Owl was too wary to go for his fat pullet just then. He decided that he would wait quietly in the tree for a time, hoping that the man would go away. ”

“ It would be convenient, he thought, when he was hunting meadow mice at dawn, if he could stay right there, without bothering to go into the woods to sleep.
Since there were no trees in the meadow, but only a few scrubby bushes along the stone wall, one might naturally make the mistake of thinking that there could not possibly be a nook of any kind that would suit Solomon Owl, who could never sleep soundly unless his bedroom was quite dark.
But there was one hiding place that Solomon liked almost as well as his home in the hollow hemlock. And that was Farmer Green’s haystack. ”

“ It was a good joke on Reddy Woodpecker. And though no one had told Solomon Owl about it, he was not so stupid that he couldn’t guess at least a little that had happened.
Solomon Owl continued to have a very pleasant time living in the meadow. Since there were many mice right close at hand, little by little he visited the woods less and less. And there came a time at last when he hardly left the meadow at all.
Not flying any more than he could help, and eating too much, and sleeping very soundly each day, he grew stouter than ever, until his friends hardly knew him when they saw him. ”

“ It proved to be just as Solomon Owl had told his cousin, Simon Screecher. Solomon had so much on his mind that he had no sooner fallen asleep than he awoke again, to study over the question that perplexed him. He certainly did not want Simon to have twice as many mice as he. But Simon’s argument was a good one. He had said that since Solomon was more than twice his size, it was proper that he should have a chance to grow. And everybody knew—Solomon reflected—everybody knew that eating made one larger. ”

“ Solomon mused. “All my life I’ve been swallowing my food without chewing it. And it has never given me any trouble before.... What shall I do?”
“Don’t eat anything for a week,” she directed. “And fly against tree-trunks as hard as you can. Then come back here after seven days.”
Solomon Owl went off in a most doleful frame of mind. It seemed to him that he had never seen so many mice and frogs and chipmunks as he came across during the following week. But he didn’t dare catch a single one, on account of what Aunt Polly Woodchuck had said. ”

“ But his size never worried Solomon Owl in the least. When he became too big for his doorway in the haystack, it was a simple matter to make the opening larger—much simpler than it would have been to make himself smaller. And that was another reason why he was delighted with his new home.
At last, however, something happened to put an end to his lazy way of living. One day the sound of men’s voices awakened him, when he was having a good nap in the haystack. ”

“ And each time that he brought Solomon Owl to his door Reddy Woodpecker laughed more loudly than ever before.
Once Solomon forgot to take off his nightcap (though he wore it in the daytime, it really was a nightcap) . And Reddy Woodpecker was so amused that he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“What’s the joke?” asked Solomon Owl in his deep, rumbling voice. He tried to look very severe. But it is hard to look any way except funny with a nightcap on one’s head.
As luck had it, Jasper Jay came hurrying up just then. He had heard Reddy Woodpecker’s laughter. ”

“ A friend of his reported that Aunt Polly Woodchuck was going about and telling everybody how she had saved Solomon’s life.
“Mice!” he exclaimed (he often said that when some would have said “Rats!”) . “There’s not a word of truth in her claim. And if people in this neighborhood keep on taking her advice and her catnip tea they’re going to be sorry some day. For they’ll be really ill the first thing they know. And then what will they do?”
XII
Benjamin Bat
Solomon Owl was by no means the only night-prowler in Pleasant Valley. ”

“ Lively as Solomon was by night, all he asked during the day was peace and quiet. He had it, usually. It was seldom that even any of the wild folk knew where his nest was; and when he spent the day outside, in some shady place, he didn't show much. His big feather-horns at such times helped make him look like a ragged stub of a branch, or something else he wasn't. It is possible for a person to go very close to an owl without seeing him; and fortunately for Solomon, birds did not find him every day. ”

“ Crow and Jasper Jay visited Solomon Owl once more. And they looked more battered than ever.
“We’ve had three more fights,” said Mr. Crow.
“Yes! And I won each time!” Jasper Jay piped up. “So I must be in the right. And you’d better decide in my favor without any further delay.”
Solomon Owl thought deeply for some time.
“Maybe I ought to wait until to-morrow——” he began.
But his callers both shouted “No!”
“Well,” said Solomon, “Mr. Crow has won three fights; and Jasper Jay has won three. So it is certain that each must be in the wrong.” ”

“ Solomon Owl replied that he hadn’t eaten anything but mice since the leaves began to turn.
“H-m—the leaves are nearly all off the trees now,” the old lady remarked. “How many mice have you eaten in that time?”
Solomon said that as nearly as he could remember he had eaten twenty-seven—or a hundred and twenty-seven. He couldn’t say which—but one of those numbers was correct.
Aunt Polly Woodchuck threw up her hands.
“Sakes alive!” she cried. “It’s no wonder you don’t feel well! What you need is a change of food. ”

“ Naturally, Mr. Frog’s remark pleased Solomon Owl. And he uttered ten rapid hoots, which served to make Mr. Frog’s fingers fly all the faster. Soon he was sewing Solomon’s coat with long stitches; and though his needle slipped now and then, he did not pause to take out a single stitch. For some reason, Mr. Frog was in a great hurry.
Solomon Owl did not appear to notice that the tailor was not taking much pains with his sewing. Perhaps Mr. Frog worked so fast that Solomon could not see what he was doing. ”

“ But Jimmy Rabbit didn’t answer him, either. He was no longer there. The moment he had seen Tommy Fox bounding off across the meadow Jimmy had started at once for Farmer Green’s vegetable garden.
So Solomon Owl was the last to leave.
“There’s really nothing else I can do,” he remarked to himself. “I don’t know what Aunt Polly Woodchuck would say if she knew that I didn’t follow her advice to-night and eat a pullet for my supper.... But I’ve tried my best.... And that’s all anybody can do.” ”

“ You’d have had dyspepsia, or some other sort of misery in your stomach.”
“What shall I do?” asked Solomon Owl. “Insects are scarce at this season of the year. Of course, there are frogs—but I don’t seem to care for them. And there are fish—but they’re not easy to get, for they don’t come out of the water and sit on the bank, as the frogs do.”
“How about pullets?” Aunt Polly inquired.
At that Solomon Owl let out a long row of hoots, because he was pleased. ”

“ By the time he reached his home among the hemlocks the sun was shining brightly—for the rain had stopped before daybreak.
Solomon wondered how he would ever succeed in reaching his doorway, high up in the hollow tree. He gazed helplessly upward. And as he sat there mournfully the bright sunshine melted the ice that bound his wings. After a time he discovered that he could move freely once more. And then he rose quickly in the air and in a twinkling he had disappeared into the darkness of his home—that darkness which to him was always so pleasant. ”

“ Now, being so much smaller than Solomon, Simon Screecher was all the spryer. In fact, he was so active that he could catch mice faster than Solomon Owl could capture them. And they had not hunted long before Solomon discovered that Simon had succeeded in disposing of six mice to his three. ”

“ One might say that his life was just one continual dodge—when he wasn’t resting with his heels where his head ought to be.
A good many of Benjamin Bat’s friends said he certainly must be crazy, because he didn’t do as they did. But that never made the slightest difference in Benjamin Bat’s habits. He continued to zigzag through life—and hang by his heels—just the same. Perhaps he thought that all other people were crazy because they didn’t do likewise.
Benjamin often dodged across Solomon Owl’s path, when Solomon was hunting for field mice. ”

“ Mr. Crow answered. “The dispute, then, is this: Jasper says that in spite of your looking so wise, you’re really the stupidest person in Pleasant Valley.”
“He does, eh?” cried Solomon Owl, while Jasper Jay laughed loudly. “And you, of course, do not agree with him,” Solomon continued.
“I do not!” Mr. Crow declared.
“Good!” said Solomon, nodding his head approvingly.
“No, I do not agree with Jasper Jay,” Mr. Crow said. “I claim that there’s one other person more stupid than you are—and that’s Fatty Coon.” ”

“ Reddy Woodpecker knows how to tease him by tapping with his bill on Solomon's wooden house in the daytime, when every owl likes to sleep and dream of all the nice frogs and fat chickens they are going to feast on the next night, and then, out comes Solomon all blinking with his big, black eyes. But this wise owl, who really isn't as wise as he looks, you know, finds a good way to fool Reddy and the rest of the folks who like to annoy him, and lives his own happy life. ”

“ If you like and study live birds, you won’t want to wear dead ones.
After Betsy’s death Solomon seemed so lonely that I resolved to buy him a companion. I chose a robin, and bought him for two dollars from a woman who kept a small shop. A naturalist friend warned me that I would have trouble, but I said remonstratingly, “My owl is not like other owls. He has been brought up like a baby. He does not know that his ancestors killed little birds.” ”

“ Frog. “That’s the hood! Knowing that you spend your winters here in Pleasant Valley, I made a hood to go over your head.... You’ll find it very comfortable in cold weather—and it’s the latest style, too. All the winter coats this year will have hoods, with holes to see through, you know.”
Solomon Owl looked relieved at Mr. Frog’s explanation. ”

“ Otus either. They moved in just as it was, in the most happy-go-lucky sort of way.
Well, whatever a crow or other particular person might think of that nest, we should agree that a father and mother owl must be left to manage affairs for their young as Nature has taught them; and if those five adorable babies of Solomon didn't prove that the way they were brought up was an entire success from an owlish point of view, I don't know what could. ”

“ He’s ony an owl, an he can’t spake a wurrud, so he can’t.
“Any how, I’se gwine to bile him dis bressed minit.”
“Ah, now, be aff wid ye; go long, an don’t be foolin,” cried Pat, as Solomon made an effort to take the owl; “shure he niver did ye any harrum at all at all. Shure he’s Misther Slocum’s tame owl, so he is, that’s run away, an ben livin in our garret—an I’m takin him back to his owner.”
“Mis’r Sloc’m,” said Solomon. “Well, Mis’r Sloc’m doesn’t lib down heah—he doesn’t. ”

“ Gutta Serena is to him unknown—no Snowy Owl was ever couched for cataract—no need has he for an oculist, should he live an hundred years; and were they to attempt any operation on his lens or iris, how he would hoot at Alexander and Wardrope!
Night, doubtless, is the usual season of his prey; but he does not shun the day, and is sometimes seen hovering unhurt in the sunshine. The red or black grouse flies as if pursued by a ghost; but the Snowy Owl, little slower than the eagle, in dreadful silence overtakes his flight, and then death is sudden and sure. ”

“ But also there are marvelous sights, unknown to early-sleeping birds, which he enjoys all by himself. For at night his queer eyes are wonderfully strong and bright. All day long he sits in his hollow tree, but when the other feathered folk are drowsing upon their roosts, or are snugly rolled up in their little nests, with their heads tucked under their downy wings, old Mr. Owl puts on his round spectacles and goes a-prowling up and down the world through the woods and meadows (like Haroun-al-Rashid in the streets of Bagdad) , spying all sorts of queer doings. ”

“ Owl never found out the trick, nor suspected the innocent little Honey Bird, whom indeed he scarcely ever saw, because it was a sunset-sleeping bird, while he was a wistful, lonely, sad night-prowler. Up and down, up and down the world he goes, still looking for the betel-nut of the Princess Putri Balan, which he will never find. And as he flies in the moonlight he glances ever longingly at the beautiful lady in the moon, and sobs "Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo!" in grief and despair. For after all these centuries he begins to fear that she will never be his wife. ”

“ One does not see the absolute necessity either of man or bird [Pg 157] looking at all times so unaccountably wise. Why will an Owl persist in his stare? Why will a Bishop never lay aside his wig?
People ignorant of Ornithology will stare like the Bird of Wisdom himself on being told that an Owl is an Eagle. Yet, bating a little inaccuracy, it is so. Eagles, kites, hawks, and owls, all belong to the genus Falco. We hear a great deal too much in poetry of the moping Owl, the melancholy Owl, the boding Owl, whereas he neither mopes nor bodes, and is no more melancholy than becomes a gentleman. ”