happily for me, I was Janet's partner, my want of skill passed unnoticed, for the colonel was too well pleased to win, to depreciate the abilities of his antagonists, and we parted for the night, the best possible friends. And now, before I lay my head on my pillow, one more look upon those skies of dark clear frosty blue, on which every star stands out like a hewn projection of glittering diamond. Oh, perpetual reproof of the littleness of man! Is it not marvellous that he has walked beneath you for five thousand years, and has not yet received the placidity of your greatness into his soul? Would it not seem as though one glance upon the majesty of the midnight heavens were enough so to subdue, calm, and humble the spirit of a mortal, that all strifes, envyings, and jealousies, all vanity and all meanness should depart from it, never to return, giving place to noble shame, and assured though reverent hope-Surely he who should ask his bitterest foe to forgive him, amid the silent magnificence of night, could never be repulsed-Poor Charles! My last thought before I sleep is of you,- my last prayer is for the reconciliation of the father and son, and a voice within assures me that it shall not remain unanswered. I December 15th.-What a simpleton have I been! could beat myself for very vexation! My ridiculous vanity has been at the bottom of it all-I am ashamed to look back at the pages of my journal and see how I had worked myself up into believing that I was appointed to heal the wounds, and soothe the differences, of this family. It is astonishing that I could so deceive myself. And now I have done harm instead of good; and I wish my tongue had been cut out before it exposed itself and me by such uncalled for absurdity. Well, it is fit that I should narrate all the particulars of my unhappy failure, as a punishment for the past, and a lesson for the future. I found no opportunity in the course of the morning for introducing the important subject. I had weighed the matter well in my mind, and decided that the presence of my nieces would be an obstacle to my success, and that I must choose some occasion when I should be alone with their father for making the attempt. This view I founded upon my supposed comprehension of the colonel's character, and I plumed myself not a little upon the penetration wherewith I imagined that I had estimated his various peculiarities, and the skill wherewith I believed myself to be suiting, allowing for, and taking advantage of them. Poor silly aunt Peggy! you are fit for nothing but worsted-work, letter writing, and small talk! It seems to me, now, as though Charles and Janet were mad to give me such a commission-but theirs are young heads what is to be said of the discretion of their mature confidante and agent? To proceed, however, I passed the whole day in studying to please and oblige my brother-in-law. At breakfast he amused himself by giving me, in a style at once elevated and colloquial, sublime and familiar, a sketch of the habits and pursuits of himself and his household. Had not every tone and gesture so completely expressed "this is the picture of a rational and happy family!" I believe I should have responded to his description by that very remark; but this incessant modest consciousness, and candid confession of great merit, effectually checks all disposition to admire. I found that he considered it part of his duty as a father, to exercise a certain sort of superintendence over the education of his children; at present, he was engaged in reading Italian with Anna, and giving Janet lessons in history. After all, he is really a well-read and accomplished man, and I have no right to ridicule him. His system of historical instruction seems to be a particular hobby; all his information is imparted by means of tables, which he draws up, and which Janet has to study till she is thoroughly mistress of the dates and succession of incidents for the period under consideration. It is then her business to compile from books, with which he supplies her, an abridged account of all the events noted in the table, according to the order of their occurrence. The colonel is exactly the kind of man to reduce all knowledge to a matter of tables, systems, and abridgements. Nothing that exceeds the limits of a book of reference appears to him worthy of acquisition; and I could fancy him giving a "Tabular view of the characters in Shakespeare's plays, forming a key to a condensed edition of his works, in which all the similes are omitted, and every phrase, scene, or allusion, which has no direct reference to the evolution of the story, carefully expunged." In the plenitude of my amiability on this unlucky day, I offered him my assistance in drawing up the parallel tables of the histories of France, England, Spain, and Italy, during the first half of the thirteenth century, on which he was then employed. He seemed greatly pleased at the idea; and I worked for a couple of hours under his direction. When the tea-things were removed in the evening, it appeared that poor Anna was suffering from so violent a head-ache, that she was unable to take her place at the whist-table, and the colonel, with a vivacity which surprised me, proposed that he and I should adjourn to his study, and finish the business of the morning-a suggestion in which I, of course, readily acquiesced. He seemed quite eager about it; it is amusing how rapidly the primness and pompousness of a man will evaporate under the influence of a real, downright hobby-for all men have their hobbies, even the prim and the pompous. He lighted a candie himself, and conducted me to his sanctumn, moving, however, with the staid dignity which his gout rendered necessary, and which, on the present occasion, seemed more burdensome to him than usual. We there spent hali-anhour in hunting for authorities, after which we were to return to the drawing-room, to work upon the materials we had obtained. But, alas, my head was full of poor Charles, and my own enterprising determination! Instead of being an assistance to him, I was the greatest possible drawback; I turned over the leaves of a kind of dream, gave every date wrong, fitted the personages of one country into the history of another, violently compelling them to assume the costume of a third, and winding up my description with an abridged account of the arts, manufactures, and literature, of a fourth. The colonel is not a bright man, and his confusion was boundless." What is your authority," asked he at last, with much politeness, as he held my rough sketch in his hand, "what is your authority for attributing the social state of Spain in the thirteenth century, to the effect of the Norman invasion in the twelfth ? You have mentioned it several times, and here, I see, you name the Conqueror,' but without designating more particularly the leader of this Norman invasion." In a kind of bewilderment, I handed him Adam's Roman Antiquities, which happened to stand next Rapin, and he spent at least five minutes in hunting through the index with knitted brows, and a face of increasing surprise, before it occurred to him to look at the title. Then his patience did seem a little disturbed, and I even thought I heard him mutter to himself the words, "Confound the Roman Antiquities!" However, he speedily recovered his usual courtesy, and proposed that we should return to the drawing-room, adding with a smile, that he thought I had had work enough for one day. He rose as he spoke, and I felt desperate. It is clear, that I could not have chosen a worse moment for my experiment than this, but some spirit of evil judgment possessed me, and I plunged into the dilemma head foremost, without pausing to consider. "I wished to speak to you, Colonel Harwood," said I, for life. getting extremely hot, and feeling, at the instant, as if I were pronouncing my own sentence of transportation Standing still in his progress towards the door, he turned towards me with an air of polite interrogation. He said nothing, and I was compelled to proceed, though I felt that it was an abrupt and unpromising beginning. "I have a great favour to ask-or rather, it is not a favour to me, but to your dear girls—your dear children I should say, and even to yourself." His brow visibly darkened, but, by this time, I had warmed with my subject, and went on fluently. "Ah my dear brother, it is so grievous that there should be a disunion in your family-now at this joyful time of year, when as you say yourself, all those who love each other ought to draw the bonds of their affection more closely, and feel that the one great cause for common thankfulness and common humiliation should heal all wounds and reconeile all differences: do not be angry with me for imploring you to forgive poor Charles, and take your son back to your heart again. He is sincerely penitent-that I know and surely he has suffered long enough, and bitterly enough. If his dear mother were alive, how earnestly would she join my entreaty-for her sake, if for no other reason, grant him your forgiveness, and let us celebrate this Christmas by a happy meeting of the whole happy family." While I spoke, the expresssion of my brother-in-law's countenance had changed from boundless astonishment to extreme indignation, and it was only the strong effort which he made to restrain his passion and behave with becoming calmness, which prevented him from bursting in upon me, ere I had concluded. As it was, he did hear me to the end, though I am quite certain, that from the moment in which he became aware of the purport of my speech, he neither listened nor heeded, but was solely employed in subduing his wrath, so as to be able to cut the matter short at once with due dignity, but at the same time with a proper degree of politeness and composure. It was in this spirit that he answered"You must pardon me my good lady, but this interference in family matters is scarcely well judged. should be very sorry to speak harshly to you, and I am quite sure that you have the best possible intentions. After I have once put it clearly before you, that I am the sole judge of my own conduct, and that your position as a greatly esteemed sister, does not exactly entitle you to direct or advise me in the management of my family, I feel sure that your own good sense will show you that you have been in error, and that delicacy and propriety will induce you to avoid mentioning the subject to me again. Let us therefore forget the last five minutes, and return to our former friendly intercourse as if they had not occurred." I He thought he had done it to perfection. The mixture of authority, gentleness, and resolution, could not have been better contrived to overwhelm me with shame and reduce me to silence. But, as he uttered the last gracious words, and was advancing with a slight and dignified wave of the hand to quit the room, that spiteful little demon who seemed ever on the watch to convert his sublimity into absurdity, caused him to stumble against a footstool, and, in order to save himself from falling, he was obliged to sit down with extreme suddenness on a chair which happened to stand near. As he did so, however, he maintained an air of unconsciousness, though his face flushed a little, and he looked boldly at me, as much as to say, Will you presume to think for a moment that I did not intend to sit down in this chair?" And now, what can I say for myself? At my age, under my circumstances, with my whole heart full of interest for poor Charles, and indig nation against his father, was it not inexcusable that I was unable to restrain my sense of the ludicrousness of this little incident? I could not restrain it, and I laughed aloud, though his eyes were full upon me. Νο offence could be greater than this. Actually pale with passion, he turned from me, saying in a suppressed tone of voice, "This levity, madam, is wholly unaccountable, unless I am to suppose it a premeditated insult." He struck his hand vehemently and angrily upon his writing-desk as he spoke, and the historical tables flew upwards with a great flap, and put out the candle. The scene was now complete-or rather it attained perfection in the next minute, when my stately and furious brotherin-law, finding himself in the dark, and at an equally great distance from the door and the bell, was literally obliged to solicit the aid of my arm to return to the drawing-room, having twice struck his gouty foot against some obnoxious chair or table, in his attempt to complete the transit unassisted. "Will you have the goodness to give me your arm as far as the hall?" said he, in a short, snappish, sulky tone of voice, as unlike as possible to his usual dignified suavity. I hastened to comply, and happy was it for me, that he could not see my face, for, as we cautiously traversed the study floor, and I felt the pressure of his arm upon mine, and knew all the while that he was absolutely boiling over with rage against me, it was all I could do to keep from laughing in his face a second time. Anna's headache was a great comfort to us during the awkward hour and a-half which passed ere we separated for the night. It was a sufficient reason for the profound silence which prevailed. The sufferer lay on the sofa and never spoke; Janet and I sat side by side, engaged with our embroidery, and occasionally conversing in suppressed tones, and my poor brother-in-law leaned back in his easy chair, and pretended to read. Never was a man so thoroughly confounded and thrown out of his usual mode of action as he was that evening. I suppose such a thing had never occurred to him in his life before, nor had the faintest vision of the possibility of such a thing ever crossed his mind. And he really was quite at a loss, and did not know how to behave under it. This too was one of the most annoying facts of his position to him. Under all circumstances that had hitherto befallen him, he had preserved his conscious and elaborate dignity unruffled-whether he were acting the gracious host, the kind father, the stately master, or the severe disciplinarian, he had been decided, selfcontemplative, and self-satisfied in all. The bursts of passion to which he had occasionally given way, had frightened those with whom he had to deal, and left him sole master of the field, with his foes flying on every hand. But he now found himself in the situation of the Chinese general, (pardon the anachronism!) who painted his soldier's faces, and made them clatter shovels and tongs together in order to scare the English-the English did not run away, they stood still and laughed and the baffled general, not knowing how to make his mode of attack more awful, tore his pigtail for very vexation. My poor brother-in-law! How guilty I felt as I stole from time to time a peep at his flushed and troubled countenance, and perceived clearly that he was quite incapable of attending to the newspaper which he held in his hand, but that his angry and bewildered mind was employed in recapitulating to itself my heinous offences, and musing over the possibility of inflicting adequate punishment. I wished him good night like a culprit, and from the brusque, and (to use an unclassical but most expressive word) grumpy manner in which he replied, I knew that he had not yet recovered himself. I wonder on what line of conduct he will determine. I should not be much surprised at receiving notice to quit to-morrow morning. And now to bed--but scarcely, I am afraid, to sleep. The Colonel cannot be more provoked with me than I am with myself. and the recollection of Charles and Adêle banishes all disposition to slumber, and seems to put me into a fever. BARN OWL. NATURAL HISTORY OF BIRDS.-No. III. Birds of Prey, concluded. THE OWLS AND BUTCHER BIRDS. THE STRIGIDE OR OWLS. What means the whooping owl, that nightly sits Ere dawn should catch them on the brook's bright shelves, THE gentle closing of a summer's day, and the approach of the "sweet hour of twilight," suggest thoughts of holy quiet and beautiful images of peace. The hard and rugged world-life has then passed; we hear only the departing echoes of its thousand distractions, and yield our souls to the influence of that soft ideal music, which, rising from leafy solitudes and ancient rivers, stirs the heart with deep harmonies. At such a time we think not of strife; all nature seems bushing herself to a rich repose; whilst, one by one, those mysterions sentinels, the silent stars, look from their distant towers upon the still earth. The nightingale's trill of "linked sweetness long drawn out," deepens, by its musical contrast, the repose in earth and air. But are all things now sinking to rest? Is peace the sole empress of the evening hour and of the silent night? Poetry may utter her full creed, and tell us all is hushed, but let us look into the region of facts, and lo! night is not wholly peaceful. On the wild desert the lion stealthily moves; in deep jungles, the tiger's dilated eye flashes through the darkness: nor is the stillness of the night air unbroken; then the owl moves with a strange silence through the air, in search of prey, startling with its ghastly aspect the peasant passing, with hurried steps, the churchyard. As animals which appear during the day are exposed to the attacks of the diurnal birds of prey, eagles, vultures, and hawks, so those which come abroad in the night are assailed by the owls. Thus the agency of predacious birds, in restraining the too great increase of animal life, is not only exercised throughout a wide geographical space, but also during the hours of light and darkness. When the eagle retires to his mountain home, the owl sweeps from the forest, and steals, spiritlike, over the silent plain. The owls are, perhaps, of all birds, the most peculiar in appearance. The solemn look and bewigged head; the noiseless ilight and nightly hunt; the ruined towers and solitary woods where most make their homes, combine to invest these birds with a species of mystery. The world, to say the truth, does not much like the owl: sees something suspicious about him, and would rather be quit of his company. He has, somehow, got a bad name, and very few will risk their credit by saying much in his favour. How the owl got into this unfortunate scrape, is difficult to understand. He has a suspicious liking, an ugly penchant, for dark places; loves to meditate among the tombs; keeps himself at home all day, as if scorning the occupations of all honest daylight birds; he never joins in bird-festivities, and seems always brooding over foul conspiracies against the state, or against the sparrows in the neighbouring hedge. Then his voice is, to say the best, rather suspicious; it sounds far too ghostlike to be pleasant to rustic ears; as for Dame Hedgeton, she never remembers a death which the villanous owl did not predict. The owl's antiquarian and sepulchral tastes have certainly been his ruin; and we fear it will be long before he obtains a respectable character amongst the peasantry. Superstition, or in other words, an ignorant imagination, has always ascribed something unearthly to the owl. Is the farmer ill, approaching, it may be, his last hour, a light is of course kept in his room during the night; the white owl, whilst hunting, sees the distant gleam, and flying towards the window, utters his peculiar scream of surprise. In an instant all is terror within the house; the death-screech has been sounded, thinks the nurse, and all believe the sick man has received his solemn warning. Should he recover, the owl does not get the benefit; and should the farmer die, a servant or a son will watch, with loaded gun, for the next appearance of the unlucky bird. Our popular ballads contribute to promote this feeling against one of the most interesting of birds. Is a maiden described pondering on the state of her dying lover? the opportunity is a good one for pelting the owl. "Thus homeward as she hopeless went, The blast grew cold, the dark owl scream'd The only foundation for all this superstition, is, of course, in the mind of man; the habits of the owl may suggest melancholy associations, but these are sources of the richest poetry in cultivated men; it is ignorance alone that transforms such feelings into the terrible. The owl has also been considered a stupid bird, as if the imputation of witchery were not sufficient to upset his character. How is the charge of stupidity proved? Does not the bird sit moping uninterested by all the beauty and sprightliness of the day? exclaims an objector. Certainly most of the owls do sit all day at ease, and why not? day is not their working time. therefore they do not labour; but stop till evening approaches, then mark the skill with which the owl beats the fields in search of prey, watch the fire of its dilated eye, the sudden dart upon the mouse, the quantity of food conveyed to the nest in an hour, and from all these facts construct an argument, if you can, demonstrating the stupidity of the owl. Why did the Athenians consecrate this bird to Minerva? Because of its stupidity? Truly, Minerva must have relished the compliment. These birds are not wholly nocturnal; that is, their flight is not confined to the hours of perfect night. Some make short flights during cloudy days, and most come abroad in the grey twilight, prolonging their chace through the greater part of moonlight nights. They are therefore more properly birds of twilight than of night; some species hunt in the thickest darkness, but this is not a characteristic of the whole family. The Strigida are widely distributed over the whole earth, extending from America to Java, and from the Arctic regions to the Equator. Some species approach the cagle in size, whilst others measure but a few inches | minutes during their foraging time in the evening. from head to tail. But amidst all this variety of aspect Hence the advantage of owls in a corn-growing district and habitation, the owl preserves the same habits, is obvious. attracting, in every land, peculiar attention. The whole family is divided into two divisions, the long-horned and short-horned owls; or, as some call them, the longeared and short-eared owls. These horns or ears are simply feathers projecting from the bird's head, which have, at a little distance, the appearance of horns. In some of the species these feathers are numerous and long, forming a thick bunch; in others, the ear consists of one feather only. We shall now proceed to notice some of the more interesting species of owls both British and foreign. 1. The White or Barn Owl, (Strix Flammea.) This species is the most common in England, and being found in every part of the country, its habits are better known than those of the more uncommon owls. It is more partial to mankind than the other species, forming its nest near barns, church towers, ruined buildings, and old trees near human habitations. The owl may be familiarized by kindness to dwell in the vicinity of man. The enthusiastic naturalist Waterton induced some to settle close to his house, and formed quite a thriving colony around him, in spite of the prediction of his housekeeper, that, "evil and owls dwell together." Frequently they would even enter Waterton's room, and indulge themselves with a peep into the mysteries of his furniture. So much did their various habits interest him, that he regarded the barn owl as one of the most attractive of British birds, calling it the "pretty ariel wanderer." He thus was not only ready, but eager to | clear its character from the aspersions of the ignorant and cruel. The capacity of this bird for domestication was strongly proved by the Ornithologist Montagu. He reared, with all possible attention, three birds, a barn owl, a sparrowhawk, and a ringdove. For six months he attended to the birds with all possible care, and then set each at liberty; the owl alone returned, thus proving the strong attachment of which this bird is capable. | The name of barn owl is of course given from its selection of such localities, where every wise farmer will protect it. One owl will keep under the mice more effectually than half a dozen cats, and the farmer's dame, whose stores are injured by these busy animals, should by all means endeavour to induce an owl to settle near the mouse colony: a surprising diminution in their num bers will be the result. It is peculiarly interesting to watch the owl beating for food in the evening twilight. It is then seen, with a slow and noiseless motion, to pass from spot to spot over the field; at last it darts down; then rising, returns to the nest with the prey which we may be sure it has secured. Again we see it beating along, and again it is down, then back to the nest as before. Each of those pounces has been fatal to some mouse enjoying his evening walk; and thus a pair of owls may be observed night after night pursuing their hunting. Sometimes the barn owl is seen in the daytime seizing upon a mouse or small bird, but this is not often the case. The eyes of this species seem particularly fitted for the night; no barn, however dark, can conceal the mouse from the watchful owl, which sitting on a beam, marks the smallest moving object on the ground. It is a curious fact that the barn owl will sometimes dart upon a fish as it swims near the surface. Some have doubted this, but the testimony of such an observer as Waterton is not to be distrusted. He saw this kind of owl plunge fairly into the water, near the spot whence he was watching their movements, and bring up its finny prey. Mice are the favourite food of the white owl, and this renders the bringing up the young, by a naturalist, rather difficult, as they require to be continually supplied with these animals. The quantity devoured in a single summer by the white owl must be enormous; one mouse being captured by a pair of owls every five Gilbert White thus describes the evening hunts of these birds:" About an hour before sunset (for then the mice begin to run) they sally forth in quest of prey, and hunt all round the hedges of meadows and small enclosures for them, which seem to be their only food. In this irregular country we can stand upon an eminence, and see them beat the fields like a setting dog, and often drop down in the grass or corn. I have minuted these birds with my watch for an hour together, and have found that they return to the nest, the one or the other of them, about once in five minutes." An owl's nest may be easily found by quantities of little round pellets lying under it. These pellets are the indigestible portions of food, which the owl casts up through its mouth; a peculiarity common to the whole family. Some of these pellets are often found to contain the indigestible remnants of half a dozen mice. The barn owl is the true "screech-owl," and does not hoot; though Sir W. Jardine says it does hoot sometimes. The hooting of the white owl must, however, be one of those rare events which happen once in fifty years, for the closest observer has not detected such an occurrence. The scream of this owl is, however, distinct enough, and not over pleasant; especially when heard by a nervous or superstitious person in some lonely spot at fall of evening. The eggs are of a dirty white or cream colour, as, indeed, are the eggs of all owls; for though the different species have a great variety of colour and plumage, the eggs of all have nearly the same appearance The reader who is unable to obtain a sight of the eggs of these and other birds, may see them well coloured in Mr. Hewitson's British Oology. 2. The Tawny Owl, or Brown Owl, (Strix Stridula.) This British species is the true hooting owl, the white, which we have just described, being the true screech owl. The brown owl is not so common as the white, from which it differs much in its habits. It is not so partial to the neighbourhood of men, seeking a home in deep woods and solitary places, where it finds the reclusive ness which it loves. When woods are cut down, and a tract of country laid open to the works of man, the hooting owl retires to more secluded spots. Gamekeepers are also its fierce foes, and destroy it without mercy, deeming it destructive to game, for which the brown owl evinces a predilection. Notwithstanding their love of solitude, they may be induced to settle near human dwellings, when certain trees are temptingly prepared for their reception. They love hollows in ash trees, and some naturalists have drawn numbers of these owls around them by piercing holes in certain of these trees. The sound of this bird's voice has a strong resemblance to human tones. Waterton thus describes its peculiar hoot; and, though he may fail to give a clear idea of the sound, we here transcribe his words: "Were you to pronounce the letter O in a loud and very clear tone of voice, and then, after a short pause, repeat the same letter in a drawling, tremulous accent, you would have a tolerably just notion of the hooting of the owl." Such a sound issuing from the depth of gloomy woods, or the vicinity of burial places, may naturally suggest superstitious notions to the timid or the rustic mind. This owl is an excellent mouser, but does not limit its diet to suppers of mouse-flesh; the luxury of birds' flesh and leverets has some considerable attraction for the brown owl, who is a more miscellaneous feeder than his lighter coloured brother. 3. Short-horned Owl, (Strix Brachyotus,) is another British species, though not common in the southern part of England. The white and brown owls are without horns, but this species has these appendages, which, however, are not always perceived by those who obtain a sight of the bird, as they are only raised when it is alarmed or excited. You may often meet with this owl on the Scottish moors, or the heaths of northern England, From the peculiar shape of its head, the term Mouse hawk is sometimes applied to this owl, especially in the regions round Hudson's Bay, where it is found in large numbers. It is a singular and most interesting sight to meet with a large flock of these owls quietly resting in some sheltered field, whence upon the least alarm, they take flight, each with his horn raised, as if in defiance of the foe. Very few species of the owl family are met with in large parties, whereas these are sometimes seen in groups of twenty or thirty. The short-eared owl is found in all countries between America and Siberia, but breeds in the high northern latitudes, especially in Norway and the Orkneys. and mark its short flights, without perceiving the least able member of the Strigidae family, not often seen in appearance of horns; but if the bird is alarmed by England, but ranked amongst the British species, as it your approach, the feathers are instantly raised, the eyes breeds in the Orkney Isles. The name, taken from the glance rapidly round, and the whole appearance is that colour of the bird, also corresponds with its favourite loof a most pugnacious and determined little warrior. It calities, which are in the coldest regions of the North, is called in some parts of England the Woodcock Owl, Greenland, Lapland, Hudson's Bay, and places in similar from its arriving at the same time with that bird. latitudes. The plumage of the snowy owl is beautifully adapted to its Arctic homes, being so exquisitely fine and close that little inconvenience can result to the bird from the cold of the severest winter. The legs are hidden by a mass of streaming plumage, serving for a most excellent dread-nought. The colour, resembling that of snow, enables the bird to hunt in the day, without being seen until close upon its prey. Sometimes the Laplander, or Beaver-hunter, is startled by perceiving the wide and silently flapping wings of the snowy owl crossing his path within a few yards, so nearly may it approach, cre the eye can distinguish the moving body from the snow over which it passes. The food consists of hares, rabbits, and smaller quadrupeds, to which is sometimes added a dinner of fish; thus proving that more than one species of owl has a liking for the finny tribe. The snowy owl does not, however, appear to plunge into the water after fish, as our barn owl will sometimes do, but snatches them from the water in a most dexterous manner with its claws. A correspondent of Audubon thus describes the angling of the snowy owl, which, though not according to the rules of Isaac Walton, is remarkably clever, and proves the Strix Nyctea to be an excellent caterer. Taking its stand upon a fragment of floating timber, it watches for the rising of fish by the side of the wood, and as they "unwittingly rose to the surface near the edge, that instant the owl thrust out the foot next the water, and with the quickness of lightning seized a fish and drew it out." Not bad this for a stupid bird. The snowy owl sometimes takes a sea-voyage, perhaps for the pleasure of fishing in salt water, or in search of some island for a breeding-place. Whatever be the cause, they have been met with at sea two hundred miles from the nearest land. The cries of the snowy owl have some resemblance to the screams of its great horned relative which we have just described; but as the former flies more during the daylight, its wild whooping songs are not quite so startling. 4. The Great Horned Owl.--This owl approaches some of the eagles in size, measuring twenty inches in length. It is rarely found in England, but abounds in some of the deep forests and dismal swamps of America, where its wild cry often startles the hunter, or terrifies the Indian benighted in the sombre woods. It often frequents burial grounds, and Wilson, the far-famed ornithologist, describes the fright into which a party of superstitious Scottish highlanders were thrown by the wailing cry of this owl. The men had remained, for the night, near an Indian burial-ground in a lonely region, and had demolished some of the wood-work near the tombs, to make a fire. After supper they were preparing to lie down to rest, when, from the silence of the graves, came such prolonged melancholy wailings, that sleep was effectually banished from the whole party for that night. The highlanders, being ignorant of the habits of this owl, ascribed the doleful cries to the ghosts of departed Indians. The sounds sometimes resemble the words Waugh O! Waugh O!" at others have a startling similarity to the half-stifled screams of a suffocating person. Audubon, in his magnificent work on the birds of America, thus describes these nocturnal outeries: "Sometimes he utters a shriek so horrid that the woods echo its dismal sounds; now it seems as if you heard the barking of a cur-dog; again the notes are so rough and mingled together, that they might be mistaken for the last gurgling of a murdered person." Pleasant companions, the English reider will suppose, these birds must be for the timid traveller! There are seasons when the great horned owl appears in a more pleasing character. Often, when the canoe is sweeping across some silent lake, and the paddles flash in the bright moonlight, is the form of this owl seen skimming with majestic motion the tranquil waters, and delighting the observer with its magnificent eagle-like circles. With what quietness are those evolutions performed were the eyes closed, this majestic bird would pass over the boatmen without discovering his presence by a sound from those velvet wings. It may here be remarked that the wings of owls, and especially those which fly more in the night, are so constructed that scarcely any sound can proceed from their motion. The wing feathers terminate in fine hair-like points; hence their passage through the air is almost noiseless,-so much so, that the shadow of the bird on the ground has sometimes been the first indication of its presence. Such silence in flying was necessary for birds destined to pursue their prey in the still hours of the night, when the slightest sounds would be sufficient to give notice of their approach, and warn the victim of the coming danger. The Indian priests are said by Wilson to wear a stuffed owl of this species on their heads for a crest, or on their arms for a badge, probably in consequence of some supernatural powers ascribed to the bird by the natives. 5. The Snowy Owl (Strix Nyctea)-is another remark 6. The Barred Owl, (Strix Nebulosa,) is named from the broad stripes or bars across its tail, and is seldom seen in England, preferring the northern parts of America, where it is considered the representative of our brown or hooting owl, which, however, it much exceeds in size. Our sober English owl does sometimes use his voice to pretty good purpose, but purely on matters of business, or when a little crossed in temper; but its American representative seems, at times, as if employed in getting up a complete chorus of laughter. Audubon, who heard its hilarious bursts, likens the sound to the merry laugh often heard from a party of men. Whether this is meant for a sly hit at human laughter, or a compliment to the capacities of this owl for fun, we do not presume to say. If owls can enjoy a joke, then, doubtless, this particular species is a sort of wit among birds, as his whole air, and the tones of his voice, suggest the notion of a sprightliness not often visible amongst the staid Strigidæ. Audubon was so taken with the bird's air and manners, as to name it the "Sancho Panza of our woods." 7. The Little Owl of America, (Strix Acadica,) is worthy of remark on account of its peculiar voice, which resembles the grating of a saw, and from this circum stance the bird has received the name of the saw-chit. So perfect is this resemblance to the sounds produced in a saw-mill, that travellers have frequently commenced a search for the appearance of a mill, the noises of which seemed close at hand. It has also a peculiar talent for ventriloquism, by which it often effectually deceives persons unacquainted with its habits. Mr. Macculloch, a friend of Audubon, describes an illusion of this nature experienced by himself. Whilst walking |