"there's no sense in wasting our time here," said solomon owl to his small cousin, simon screecher. "it's a fine night. the mice will all be out sooner or later. let's go over and sit in that old oak on the edge of the meadow!"

simon screecher was more than willing. and they had no sooner settled themselves among the bare branches of the oak when simon started to amuse himself by giving his well-known quavering whistle.

solomon owl stopped him quickly.

"don't do that!" he said sharply. "do you want to scare the mice?" simon screecher cut his whistle off right in the middle of it.

"i forgot," he murmured. "but i don't believe my whistling would do any harm. i don't think there are many mice left on farmer green's place. it's my opinion that they've moved away—most of them. or maybe old rough-leg, the hawk, has caught more than his share. anyhow, it's so long since i ate a meadow mouse that i've almost forgotten what they're like."

solomon owl made no reply. he was a person of few words. if anybody asked his opinion he was ready to give it. but he seldom gave any unsought advice.

"i've about made up my mind," said simon screecher, "that i'd move to some other neighborhood. if i knew where there was good mousing i'd move to-morrow."

while he was speaking, solomon owl started ever so slightly. and he cocked his head on one side, as if he were listening for something.

at that moment his cousin began to whistle again.

"be quiet!" solomon owl thundered. "if i'm not mistaken i heard a squeak. but no meadow mouse will ever venture out of doors if you're going to whistle."

"i forgot," said simon screecher once more. "i'm so used to whistling that i don't know when i'm doing it."

"that's the reason why you can't catch more mice," solomon owl snapped; for he was angry. "there are dozens of meadow mice under the snow. but of course you can't surprise them if you tell them you're coming. you might as well send them a telegram, saying that you'll be on hand to meet them at eight p. m."

simon screecher was silenced for the time being.

and it wasn't long before solomon owl gave another start.

"there's that squeak again!" he whispered. "i believe it is getting nearer, too."

now, master meadow mouse had a tunnel that led right beneath the tree where the two cousins were sitting. and he had strolled that way after scurrying under the snow when he heard solomon owl laughing in the woods earlier in the evening.

it was he that solomon heard. it was he that stuck his head out of a hole in the snow and peeped up at the star-sprinkled sky.

solomon owl saw him. and he dived out of the old oak straight at master meadow mouse.

master meadow mouse pulled his head in just in time.

"i didn't suppose that chap would be here as soon as this," he gasped. "he must have hurried over here from the woods. he must be very hungry."

as solomon owl returned to the old oak his cousin simon screecher laughed somewhat unpleasantly.

"missed him—didn't you?" he inquired.

"yes!"

"why didn't you grab him out of the snow?" simon asked. "what are your claws for? what's your beak for?"

"i couldn't dig him out," solomon owl replied. "the snow is three feet deep. and it has seven different crusts, one under another."

"this is a hard winter," said simon screecher. "i wish i'd gone south last fall. i wonder how the mousing is down there."

该作者的其它作品

《the tale of timothy turtle》

《the tale of miss kitty cat》

《the tale of old dog spot》

《the tale of solomon owl》

《the tale of grunty pig》