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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Tale of Solomon Owl, by Arthur Scott Bailey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Tale of Solomon Owl
+
+Author: Arthur Scott Bailey
+
+Release Date: September 26, 2005 [eBook #16663]
+[Most recently updated: May 18, 2021]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Roger Frank and and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF SOLOMON OWL ***
+
+
+
+
+The Tale of Solomon Owl
+
+by Arthur Scott Bailey
+
+Author of “The Tale of Sandy Chipmunk,” “The Tale of Tommy
+Fox,” etc.
+
+Illustrated by Harry L. Smith
+
+New York
+Grosset & Dunlap
+1917
+
+
+[Illustration: ]
+Solomon Owl Sat Up And Listened.
+
+
+Contents
+
+ Chapter I. Scaring Johnny Green
+ Chapter II. A Newcomer
+ Chapter III. Solomon Likes Frogs
+ Chapter IV. An Odd Bargain
+ Chapter V. The Cold Weather Coat
+ Chapter VI. Solomon Needs a Change
+ Chapter VII. The Blazing Eyes
+ Chapter VIII. Watching The Chickens
+ Chapter IX. Hallowe’en
+ Chapter X. A Troublesome Wishbone
+ Chapter XI. Cured At Last
+ Chapter XII. Benjamin Bat
+ Chapter XIII. The Lucky Guest
+ Chapter XIV. Hanging By The Heels
+ Chapter XV. Disputes Settled
+ Chapter XVI. Nine Fights
+ Chapter XVII. Cousin Simon Screecher
+ Chapter XVIII. A Cousinly Quarrel
+ Chapter XIX. The Sleet Storm
+ Chapter XX. A Pair Of Red-Heads
+ Chapter XXI. At Home In The Haystack
+ Chapter XXII. It Was Solomon’s Fault
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+ Solomon Owl Sat Up And Listened
+ Solomon Found Mr. Frog’s Shop Was Closed
+ Benjamin Bat Asked Solomon’s Advice
+ “It’s All Right!” Said Solomon
+
+
+
+
+The Tale of Solomon Owl
+
+
+
+
+I
+Scaring Johnny Green
+
+
+When Johnnie Green was younger, it always scared him to hear Solomon
+Owl’s deep-toned voice calling in the woods after dark.
+
+“_Whoo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo, to-whoo-ah!_” That weird cry was enough to
+send Johnnie Green hurrying into the farmhouse, though sometimes he
+paused in the doorway to listen—especially if Solomon Owl happened to
+be laughing. His “_haw-haw-hoo-hoo_,” booming across the meadow on a
+crisp fall evening, when the big yellow moon hung over the fields of
+corn-shocks and pumpkins, sounded almost as if Solomon were laughing at
+the little boy he had frightened. There was certainly a mocking,
+jeering note in his laughter.
+
+Of course, as he grew older, Johnnie Green no longer shivered on
+hearing Solomon’s rolling call. When Solomon laughed, Johnnie Green
+would laugh, too. But Solomon Owl never knew that, for often he was
+half a mile from the farm buildings.
+
+A “hoot owl,” Johnnie Green termed him. And anyone who heard Solomon
+hooting of an evening, or just before sunrise, would have agreed that
+it was a good name for him. But he was really a _barred_ owl, for he
+had bars of white across his feathers.
+
+If you had happened to catch Solomon Owl resting among the thick
+hemlocks near the foot of Blue Mountain, where he lived, you would have
+thought that he looked strangely like a human being. He had no “horns,”
+or ear-tufts, such as some of the other owls wore; and his great pale
+face, with its black eyes, made him seem very wise and solemn.
+
+In spite of the mild, questioning look upon his face whenever anyone
+surprised him in the daytime, Solomon Owl was the noisiest of all the
+different families of owls in Pleasant Valley. There were the barn
+owls, the long-eared owls, the short-eared owls, the saw-whet owls, the
+screech owls—but there! there’s no use of naming them all. There wasn’t
+one of them that could equal Solomon Owl’s laughing and hooting and
+shrieking and wailing—at night.
+
+During the day, however, Solomon Owl he was quiet about it. One reason
+for his silence then was that he generally slept when the sun was
+shining. And when most people were sleeping, Solomon Owl was as wide
+awake as he could be.
+
+He was a night-prowler—if ever there was one. And he could see a mouse
+on the darkest night, even if it stirred ever so slightly.
+
+That was unfortunate for the mice. But luckily for them, Solomon Owl
+couldn’t be in more than one place at a time. Otherwise, there wouldn’t
+have been a mouse left in Pleasant Valley—if he could have had _his_
+way.
+
+And though he didn’t help the mice, he helped Farmer Green by catching
+them. If he did take a fat pullet once in a while, it is certain that
+he more than paid for it.
+
+So, on the whole, Farmer Green did not wood-lot. And for a long time
+Solomon raised no objection to Farmer Green’s living near Swift River.
+
+But later Solomon Owl claimed that it would be a good thing for the
+forest folk if they could get rid of the whole Green family—and the
+hired man, too.
+
+
+
+
+II
+A Newcomer
+
+
+Upon his arrival, as a stranger, in Pleasant Valley, Solomon Owl looked
+about carefully for a place to live. What he wanted especially was a
+good, _dark_ hole, for he thought that sunshine was very dismal.
+
+Though he was willing to bestir himself enough to suit anybody, when it
+came to _hunting_, Solomon Owl did not like to work. He was no busy
+nest-builder, like Rusty Wren. In his search for a house he looked
+several times at the home of old Mr. Crow. If it had suited him better,
+Solomon would not have hesitated to take that it was altogether _too
+light_ to please him.
+
+That was lucky for old Mr. Crow. And the black rascal knew it, too. He
+had noticed that Solomon Owl was hanging about the neighborhood. And
+several times he caught Solomon examining his nest.
+
+But Mr. Crow did not have to worry long. For as it happened, Solomon
+Owl at last found exactly what he wanted. In an old, hollow hemlock, he
+came across a cozy, dark cavity. As soon as he saw it he knew that it
+was the very thing! So he moved in at once. And except for the time
+that he spent in the meadow—which was considerably later—he lived there
+for a good many years.
+
+Once Fatty Coon thought that he would drive Solomon out of his snug
+house and live in it himself. But he soon changed Solomon Owl—so Fatty
+discovered—had sharp, strong claws and a sharp, strong beak as well,
+which curled over his face in a cruel hook.
+
+It was really a good thing for Solomon Owl—the fight he had with Fatty
+Coon. For afterward his neighbors seldom troubled him—except when
+Jasper Jay brought a crowd of his noisy friends to tease Solomon, or
+Reddy Woodpecker annoyed him by rapping on his door when he was asleep.
+
+But those rowdies always took good care to skip out of Solomon’s reach.
+And when Jasper Jay met Solomon alone in the woods at dawn or dusk he
+was most polite to the solemn old chap. _Then_ it was “How-dy-do, Mr.
+Owl!” and “I hope you’re well to-day!” And when Solomon Jasper, that
+bold fellow always felt quite uneasy; and he was glad when Solomon Owl
+looked away.
+
+If Solomon Owl chanced to _hoot_ on those occasions, Jasper Jay would
+jump almost out of his bright blue coat. Then Solomon’s deep laughter
+would echo mockingly through the woods.
+
+You see, though not nearly so wise as he appeared, Solomon Owl knew
+well enough how to frighten some people.
+
+
+
+
+III
+Solomon Likes Frogs
+
+
+It was a warm summer’s evening—so warm that Mr. Frog, the tailor, had
+taken his sewing outside his tailor’s shop and seated himself
+cross-legged upon the bank of the brook, where he sang and sewed
+without ceasing—except to take a swim now and then in the cool water,
+“to stretch his legs,” as he claimed.
+
+He was making a new suit of blue clothes for Jasper Jay. And since
+Jasper was a great dandy, and very particular Mr. Frog was taking
+special pains with his sewing.
+
+Usually he did his work quickly. But now after every five stitches that
+he put into his work he stopped to take out ten. And naturally he was
+not getting on very fast. He had been working busily since early
+morning; and Jasper Jay’s suit was further than ever from being
+finished.
+
+Since he was a most cheerful person, Mr. Frog did not mind that.
+Indeed, he was more than pleased, because the oftener he took a swim
+the fewer stitches he lost. So he sang the merriest songs he knew.
+
+The light was fast fading when a hollow laugh startled Mr. Frog. It
+seemed to come from the willow tree right over his head. And he knew
+without looking up that it was Solomon Owl’s deep voice.
+
+Mr. Frog tried to leap into the brook. But when he uncrossed his legs,
+in his haste he tangled them up in his sewing. And all he could do was
+to turn a somersault backward among some bulrushes, hoping that Solomon
+Owl had not seen him.
+
+It is no secret that Mr. Frog was terribly afraid of Solomon Owl. Some
+of Mr. Frog’s friends had mysteriously disappeared. And they had last
+been seen in Solomon’s company.
+
+As it happened, Mr. Frog had hoped in vain. For Solomon Owl only
+laughed more loudly than before. And then he said:
+
+“What are you afraid of, Mr. Frog?”
+
+The tailor knew at once that he was caught. So he hopped nimbly to his
+feet and answered that there was nothing to be afraid of, so far as he
+could see.
+
+It was a true statement, too; because Mr. Frog had not yet discovered
+Solomon Owl’s exact whereabouts.
+
+But he learned them soon; for Solomon immediately dropped down from the
+big willow and alighted on the bank near Mr. Frog—altogether _too near_
+him, in fact, for the tailor’s comfort.
+
+Solomon looked at Mr. Frog very solemnly. And he thought that he
+shivered.
+
+“What’s the matter? Are you ill?” Solomon Owl inquired. “You seem to be
+shaking.”
+
+“Just a touch of chills and fever, probably!” replied Mr. Frog with an
+uneasy smile. “You know it’s very damp here.”
+
+“You don’t look in the best of health—that’s a fact!” Solomon Owl
+remarked. “You appear to me to be somewhat green in the face.” And he
+laughed once more—that same hollow, mirthless laugh.
+
+Mr. Frog couldn’t help jumping, because the sound alarmed him.
+
+“Don’t be disturbed!” said Solomon Owl. “I like all the Frog family.”
+
+At that remark, Mr. Frog started violently That was exactly the
+trouble! Solomon Owl was _altogether too fond_ of frogs, whether they
+were old or young, big or little.
+
+It was no wonder that Mr. Frog swallowed rapidly sixteen times before
+he could say another word.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+An Odd Bargain
+
+
+While Mr. Frog was swallowing nothing rapidly, he was thinking rapidly,
+too. There was something about Solomon Owl’s big, staring eyes that
+made Mr. Frog feel uncomfortable. And if he had thought he had any
+chance of escaping he would have dived into the brook and swum under
+the bank.
+
+But Solomon Owl was too near him for that. And Mr. Frog was afraid his
+caller would pounce upon him any moment. So he quickly thought of a
+plan to save himself. “No doubt——” he began. But Solomon Owl
+interrupted him.
+
+“There!” cried Solomon. “You can speak, after all. I supposed you’d
+swallowed your tongue. And I was just waiting to see what you’d do
+next. I thought maybe you would swallow your _head_.”
+
+Mr. Frog managed to laugh at the joke, though, to tell the truth, he
+felt more nervous than ever. He saw what was in Solomon Owl’s mind, for
+Solomon was thinking of swallowing Mr. Frog’s head himself.
+
+“No doubt—” Mr. Frog resumed—“no doubt you’ve come to ask me to make
+you a new suit of clothes.”
+
+Now, Solomon Owl had had no such idea at all. But when it was mentioned
+to him, he rather liked it.
+
+“Will you?” he inquired, with a highly interested air.
+
+“Why, certainly!” the tailor replied. And for the first time since he
+had turned his backward somersault into the bulrushes, he smiled
+widely. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do!” he said. “First, I’ll make you a
+coat free. And second, if you like it I will then make you a waistcoat
+and trousers, at double rates.”
+
+Solomon Owl liked the thought of getting a coat for nothing. But for
+all that, he looked at the tailor somewhat doubtfully.
+
+“Will it take you long?” he asked.
+
+“No, indeed!” Mr. Frog told him. “I’ll make your coat while you wait.”
+
+“Oh, I wasn’t going away,” Solomon assured him with an odd look which
+made Mr. Frog shiver again. “Be quick, please! Because I have some
+important business to attend to.”
+
+Mr. Frog couldn’t help wondering if it wasn’t he himself that Solomon
+Owl was going to attend to. In spite of his fears, to work to cut up
+some cloth that hung just outside his door.
+
+“Stop!” Solomon Owl cried in a voice that seemed to shake the very
+ground. “You haven’t measured me yet!”
+
+“It’s not necessary,” Mr. Frog explained glibly. “I’ve become so
+skilful that one look at an elegant figure like yours is all that I
+need.”
+
+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.
+
+Anyhow, he was delighted when Mr. Frog suddenly cried:
+
+“It’s finished!” And then he tossed the coat to Solomon. “Try it on!”
+he said. “I want to see how well it fits you.”
+
+Solomon Owl held up the garment and looked at it very carefully. And as
+he examined it a puzzled look came over his great pale face.
+
+There was something about his new coat that he did not understand.
+
+
+
+
+V
+The Cold Weather Coat
+
+
+Yes! As he held up his new coat and looked at it, Solomon Owl was
+puzzled. He turned his head toward Mr. Frog and stared at him for a
+moment. And then he turned his head away from the tailor and gazed upon
+the coat again.
+
+Mr. Frog was most uncomfortable—especially when Solomon looked at
+_him_.
+
+“Everything’s all right, isn’t it?” he inquired.
+
+Solomon Owl slowly shook his head.
+
+“This is a queer coat!” he said. “What’s this bag at the top of it?”
+
+“Oh!” exclaimed Mr. 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. But there was
+still something more that appeared to trouble him.
+
+“How shall I get into the coat?” he inquired. “It doesn’t open in
+front, as it should.”
+
+“Another cold-weather style!” Mr. Frog assured him. “It’s wind-proof!
+And instead of buttoning the coat, you pull it on over your head.”
+
+Solomon Owl said he didn’t like that style very well.
+
+“Then I can easily change it,” the tailor told him. “But just try it
+on!” he urged. “It may please you, after all.”
+
+So Solomon Owl pulled the coat over his head. And it fell down about
+him, almost reaching his feet. But the coat did not seem to suit him at
+all, for he began to splutter and choke.
+
+“What’s the matter now?” Mr. Frog asked him.
+
+“I can’t see—that’s what’s the matter!” Solomon Owl cried in a voice
+that sounded hollower than ever, because it was muffled by the hood,
+which covered his head.
+
+“I declare—I haven’t cut the holes for your eyes!” the tailor
+exclaimed. “Just wait a moment and I’ll make everything satisfactory.”
+He clinked his shears together sharply as he spoke.
+
+But Solomon Owl told him that he wouldn’t _think_ of letting anybody
+use shears so near his eyes.
+
+
+[Illustration: ] Solomon Found Mr. Frog’s Shop Was Closed
+
+
+“I’ll take off the coat,” he said. “And I know now that you’re a very
+poor tailor, or you wouldn’t have made such a mistake.” He began to tug
+at the coat. But he soon found that taking it off was not so easy as
+putting it on. Solomon’s sharp claws caught in the cloth; and his
+hooked beak, too, fastened itself in the hood the moment he tried to
+pull the coat over his head. “Here!” he cried to Mr. Frog. “Just lend
+me a hand! I can’t see to help myself.”
+
+But Mr. Frog did not even answer him.
+
+“Don’t you hear me?” Solomon Owl shouted, as he struggled with his new
+coat, only to become tangled in it more than ever.
+
+Still, the tailor said never a word, though something very like a
+giggle, followed by a splash, caught Solomon’s ear.
+
+“He’s left me!” Solomon Owl groaned.
+
+“Mr. Frog has left me to get out of this coat alone. And goodness knows
+how I’m ever a-going to do it.” He threshed about so vigorously that he
+tripped himself and fell upon the bank of the brook, rolling over and
+over toward the water.
+
+He had a very narrow escape. If he hadn’t happened to bring up against
+an old stump he would certainly have tumbled into the stream.
+
+Though Solomon couldn’t see, he knew that he was in danger. So he lay
+on his back on the ground and carefully tore his new coat into strings
+and ribbons.
+
+At last he was free. And he rose to his feet feeling very sheepish, for
+he knew that Mr. Frog had played a sly trick on him.
+
+“Nevermind!” said Solomon Owl, as he flew way. “I’ll come back
+to-morrow and ask Mr. Frog to make me a waistcoat and trousers. And
+then——” He did not finish what he was saying. But there is no doubt
+that whatever it was, it could not have been very pleasant for Mr.
+Frog.
+
+Just as he had planned, Solomon Owl returned to the brook the next day.
+And he was both surprised and disappointed at what he found.
+
+The door of Mr. Frog’s tailor’s shop was shut and locked. And on it
+there was a sign, which said:
+
+TO LET
+
+
+“He’s moved away!” cried Solomon Owl. And he went off feeling that he
+had been cheated out of a good dinner—to say nothing of a new
+waistcoat—and new trousers, too.
+
+He had not been gone long when the door opened. And Mr. Frog leaped
+nimbly outside. He took the sign off the door; and sitting down
+cross-legged upon the bank, he began to sew upon Jasper Jay’s new blue
+suit, while his face wore a wider smile than ever.
+
+He had suddenly decided not to let his shop, after all.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+Solomon Needs a Change
+
+
+For some time Solomon Owl had known that a queer feeling was coming
+over him. And he could not think what it meant. He noticed, too, that
+his appetite was leaving him. Nothing seemed to taste good any more.
+
+So at last, one fine fall evening he went to see Aunt Polly Woodchuck,
+who was an herb doctor; for he had begun to worry about his health.
+
+“It’s lucky you came to-day,” said Aunt Polly. “Because to-night I’m
+going to begin my winter’s nap. And you couldn’t have seen me again
+till spring—unless you happened to come here on ground-hog day, next
+February.... What appears to be your trouble?” she inquired.
+
+“It’s my appetite, partly,” Solomon Owl said. “Nothing tastes as it did
+when I was a youngster. And I keep longing for something, though what
+it is I can’t just tell.”
+
+Aunt Polly Woodchuck nodded her head wisely.
+
+“What have you been eating lately?” she asked.
+
+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. And it’s lucky you came to me now. If you’d
+gone on like that much longer I’d hate to say what might have happened
+to you. 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.
+
+“The very thing!” he cried. “That’s what I’ve been wanting all this
+time. And I never guessed it.... I’ll pay you for your advice the next
+time I see you,” he told Aunt Polly. And Solomon Owl hurried away
+before she could stop him. Since he had no intention of visiting her on
+ground-hog day, he knew it would be spring before he saw Aunt Polly
+Woodchuck again.
+
+The old lady scolded a bit. And it did not make her feel any pleasanter
+to hear Solomon’s mocking laughter, which grew fainter and fainter as
+he left the pasture behind him. Then she went inside her house, for she
+was fast growing sleepy. And she wanted to set things to rights before
+she began her long winter’s nap.
+
+Meanwhile, Solomon Owl roamed restlessly through the woods. There was
+only one place in the neighborhood where he could get a pullet. That
+was at Farmer Green’s chicken house. And for some reason he did not
+care to visit the farm buildings until it grew darker.
+
+So he amused himself by making the woods echo with his strange cry,
+“_Whoo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo, to-whoo-ah!_” And now and then he threw in
+a few “_wha-whas_,” just for extra measure.
+
+Many of the forest folk who heard him remarked that Solomon Owl seemed
+to be in extra fine spirits.
+
+“Probably it’s the hunter’s moon that pleases him!” Jimmy Rabbit
+remarked to a friend of his. “I’ve always noticed that old Solomon
+makes more noise on moonlight nights than at any other time.”
+
+The hunter’s moon, big and yellow and round, was just rising over Blue
+Mountain. But for once it was not the moon that made Solomon Owl so
+talkative. He was in fine feather, so to speak, because he was hoping
+to have a fat pullet for his supper. And as for the moon, he would have
+been just as pleased had there been none at all that night. For Solomon
+Owl never cared to be seen when he visited Farmer Green’s chicken
+house.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+The Blazing Eyes
+
+
+It was some three hours after sunset when Solomon Owl at last reached
+Farmer Green’s place. All was quiet in the chicken house because the
+hens and roosters and their families had long since gone to roost. And
+except for a light that shone through a window, the farmhouse showed
+not a sign of life.
+
+Everything was as Solomon Owl wished it—or so he thought, at least, as
+he alighted in a tree in the yard to look about him. He wanted no one
+to interrupt him when he should go nosing around the chicken house, to
+find an opening.
+
+To his annoyance, he had not sat long in the tree when the wood-shed
+door opened. And Solomon stared in amazement at the strange sight he
+saw.
+
+A great head appeared, with eyes and mouth—yes! and nose, too—all a
+glaring flame color. 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.
+
+While Solomon watched him the stranger neither moved nor spoke. And, of
+course, Solomon Owl was growing hungrier every minute. So at last he
+felt that he simply _must_ say something.
+
+“Who-who-who-are-you?” he called out from his tree.
+
+But the strange man did not answer. He did not even turn his head.
+
+“He must be some city person,” Solomon Owl said to himself. “He thinks
+he’s too good to speak to a countryman like me.”
+
+Then Solomon sat up and listened. He heard a scratching sound. And soon
+he saw a plump figure crawl right up into his tree-top.
+
+It was Fatty Coon!
+
+“What are you doing here?” Solomon Owl asked in a low voice, which was
+not any too pleasant.
+
+“I’m out for an airing,” Fatty answered. “Beautiful night—isn’t it?”
+
+But Solomon Owl was not interested in the weather. “I don’t suppose
+you’ve come down here to get a chicken, have you?” he inquired.
+
+Fatty Coon seemed greatly surprised at the question.
+
+“Why—no!” he exclaimed. “But now that you speak of it, it reminds me
+that Farmer Green’s saving a pullet for me. He was heard to say not
+long ago that he would like to catch me taking one of his hens. So he
+must have one for me. And I don’t want to disappoint him.”
+
+At first Solomon Owl didn’t know what answer to make. But at last he
+turned his head toward Fatty.
+
+“Why don’t you go and get your pullet now?” he asked.
+
+“There’s that man down below, with the glaring eyes—” said Fatty Coon.
+“I’ve been waiting around here for quite a long time and he hasn’t
+looked away from the chicken house even once.... Do you know him?”
+
+“No! And I don’t want to!” said Solomon Owl.
+
+“S-sh!” Fatty Coon held up a warning hand. “Who’s that?” he asked,
+peering down at a dark object at the foot of their tree.
+
+Then both he and Solomon saw that it was Tommy Fox, sitting on his
+haunches and staring at the big head, with its blazing eyes and nose
+and mouth.
+
+“Not looking for chickens, I suppose?” Solomon Owl called in a low
+tone, which was hardly more than a whisper.
+
+But Tommy Fox’s sharp ears heard him easily. And he looked up, licking
+his chops as if he were very hungry indeed. And all the while the
+stranger continued to stare straight at the chicken house, as if he did
+not intend to let anybody go
+
+prowling about that long, low building to steal any of Farmer Green’s
+poultry.
+
+It was no wonder that the three chicken-lovers (two in the tree and one
+beneath it) hesitated. If the queer man had only spoken they might not
+have been so timid. But he said never a word.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+Watching The Chickens
+
+
+Solomon Owl and Fatty Coon couldn’t help laughing at what Tommy Fox
+said to them, as they sat in their tree near the farmhouse, looking
+down at him in the moonlight.
+
+“I’m here to watch Farmer Green’s chickens for him—” said he—“to see
+that no rat—or anybody else—runs away with a pullet.”
+
+“Farmer Green has someone else watching for him to-night,” said Solomon
+Owl, when he had stopped laughing. “There’s that strange man! You can
+see how he keeps his glaring eyes fixed on the chicken house. And
+unless I’m mistaken, he’s on the lookout for _you_.”
+
+“No such thing!” Tommy Fox snapped. And he looked up at Solomon as if
+he wished that he could climb the tree.
+
+“Here comes somebody else!” Fatty Coon exclaimed suddenly. His keen
+eyes had caught sight of Jimmy Rabbit, hopping along on his way to the
+vegetable garden, to see if he couldn’t find a stray cabbage or a
+turnip.
+
+Solomon Owl called to him. Whereupon, Jimmy Rabbit promptly sat up and
+looked at the odd trio. If it hadn’t been for Tommy Fox he would have
+drawn nearer.
+
+“Do you know that stranger?” Solomon Owl asked him, pointing out the
+horrible head to Jimmy.
+
+“I haven’t the pleasure,” said Jimmy Rabbit, after he had taken a good
+look.
+
+“Well,” said Solomon, “won’t you kindly speak to him; and ask him to go
+away?”
+
+“Certainly!” answered Jimmy Rabbit, who always tried to be obliging.
+
+“I hope the stranger won’t eat him,” remarked Tommy Fox, “because I
+hope to do that some day, myself.”
+
+It was queer—but Jimmy Rabbit was the only one of the four that wasn’t
+afraid of those glaring features. He hopped straight up to the big
+round head, which was just a bit higher than one of the fence posts,
+against which the stranger seemed to be leaning. And after a moment or
+two Jimmy Rabbit called to Solomon and Fatty and Tommy Fox:
+
+“He won’t go away! He’s going to stay right where he is!”
+
+“Come here a minute!” said Tommy.
+
+Jimmy Rabbit shook his head.
+
+“You come over here!” he answered. And he did not stir from the side of
+the stranger. He knew very well that Tommy Fox was afraid of the man
+with the head with the glaring eyes.
+
+As for Tommy Fox, he did not even reply—that is, to Jimmy Rabbit. But
+he spoke his mind freely enough to his two friends in the tree.
+
+“It seems to me one of you ought to do something,” said he. “We’ll eat
+no pullets to-night if we can’t get rid of this meddlesome stranger.”
+
+Fatty Coon quite agreed with him.
+
+“The one who was here first is the one to act!” Fatty declared. “That’s
+_you!_” he told Solomon Owl.
+
+So Solomon Owl felt most uncomfortable.
+
+“I don’t know what I can do,” he said. “I spoke to the stranger—asked
+him who he was. And he wouldn’t answer me.”
+
+“Can’t you frighten him away?” Tommy Fox inquired. “Fly right over his
+head and give him a blow with your wing as you pass!”
+
+Solomon Owl coughed. He was embarrassed, to say the least.
+
+“He’s afraid!” Fatty Coon cried. And both he and Tommy Fox kept
+repeating, over and over again, “He’s afraid! He’s afraid! He’s
+afraid!”
+
+It was really more than Solomon Owl could stand.
+
+“I’m not!” he retorted angrily. “Watch me and you’ll see!” And without
+another word he darted out of the tree and swooped down upon the
+stranger, just brushing the top of his head. Solomon Owl knew at once
+that he had knocked something off the top of that dreadful
+head—something that fell to the ground and made Jimmy Rabbit jump
+nervously.
+
+Then Solomon returned to his perch in the tree.
+
+“He hasn’t moved,” he said. “But I knocked off his hat.”
+
+“You took off the top of his head!” cried Fatty Coon in great
+excitement. “Look! The inside of his head is afire.”
+
+And peering down from the tree-top, Solomon Owl saw that Fatty Coon had
+told the truth.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+Hallowe’en
+
+
+Solomon Owl was afraid of fire. And when he looked down from his perch
+in the tree and saw, through the hole in the stranger’s crown, that all
+was aglow inside his big, round head, Solomon couldn’t help voicing his
+horror. He “_whoo-whooed_” so loudly that Tommy Fox, at the foot of the
+tree, asked him what on earth was the matter.
+
+“His head’s all afire!” Solomon Owl told him. “That’s what makes his
+eyes glare so. And that’s why the fire shines through his mouth and his
+nose, too. It’s no wonder he didn’t answer my question—for, of course,
+his tongue must certainly be burned to a cinder.”
+
+“Then it ought to be safe for anybody to enter the chicken house,”
+Tommy Fox observed. “What could the stranger do, when he’s in such a
+fix?”
+
+“He could set the chicken house afire, if he followed you inside,”
+replied Solomon Owl wisely. “And I, for one, am not going near the
+pullets to-night.”
+
+“Nor I!” Fatty Coon echoed. “I’m going straight to the cornfield. The
+corn is still standing there in shocks; and I ought to find enough ears
+to make a good meal.”
+
+But Solomon Owl and Tommy Fox were not interested in corn. They never
+ate it. And so it is not surprising that they should be greatly
+disappointed. After a person has his mouth all made up for chicken it
+is hard to think of anything that would taste even half as good.
+
+“It’s queer he doesn’t go and hold his head under the pump,” said
+Solomon Owl. “That’s what I should do, if I were he.”
+
+“Jimmy Rabbit had better not go too near him, or he’ll get singed,”
+said Tommy Fox, anxiously. “I don’t want anything to happen to _him_.”
+
+“Jimmy Rabbit is very careless,” Solomon declared. “I don’t see what
+he’s thinking of—going so near a fire! It makes me altogether too
+nervous to stay here. And I’m going away at once.”
+
+Tommy Fox said that he felt the same way. And the moment Fatty Coon,
+with his sharp claws, started to crawl down the tree on his way to the
+cornfield, Tommy Fox hurried off without even stopping to say good-bye.
+
+“_Haw-haw-haw-hoo!_” laughed Solomon Owl. “Tommy Fox is afraid of you!”
+he told Fatty Coon.
+
+But Fatty didn’t seem to hear him. He was thinking only of the supper
+of corn that he was going to have.
+
+“Better come away!” Solomon Owl called to Jimmy Rabbit, turning his
+head toward the fence where Jimmy had been lingering near the
+hot-headed stranger.
+
+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.”
+
+Solomon Owl was upset all the rest of that night. And just before
+daybreak he visited the farmyard again, to see whether the strange man
+with the flaring head still watched the chicken house. And Solomon
+found that he had vanished.
+
+So Solomon Owl alighted on the fence. There was nothing there except a
+hollowed-out pumpkin, with a few holes cut in it, which someone had
+left on one of the fence-posts.
+
+“Good!” said he. “Maybe I can get my pullet after all!” He turned to
+fly to the chicken house. But just then the woodshed door opened again.
+And Farmer Green stepped outside, with a lantern in his hand. He was
+going to the barn to milk the cows. But Solomon Owl did not wait to
+learn anything more.
+
+He hurried away to his house among the hemlocks. And having quickly
+settled himself for a good nap, he was soon fast asleep.
+
+That was how Johnnie Green’s jack-o’-lantern kept Tommy Fox and Fatty
+Coon and Solomon Owl from taking any chickens on Hallowe’en.
+
+
+
+
+X
+A Troublesome Wishbone
+
+
+Solomon Owl had pains—sharp pains—underneath his waistcoat. And not
+knowing what else to do, he set off at once for Aunt Polly Woodchuck’s
+house under the hill, in the pasture, which he had not visited since
+the previous fall. Luckily, he found the old lady at home. And quickly
+he told her of his trouble.
+
+“What have you been eating?” she inquired.
+
+“I’ve followed your advice. I’ve been eating chickens,” said he—“very
+small chickens, because they were all I could get.”
+
+Aunt Polly Woodchuck, who was an herb doctor—and a good one—regarded
+him through her spectacles.
+
+“I’m afraid,” said she, “you don’t chew your food properly. Bolting
+one’s food is very harmful. It’s as bad as not eating anything at all,
+almost.”
+
+Solomon Owl showed plainly that her remark surprised him.
+
+“Why,” he exclaimed, “I always swallow my food whole—when it isn’t too
+big!”
+
+“Gracious me!” cried Aunt Polly, throwing up both her hands. “It’s no
+wonder you’re ill. It’s no wonder you have pains; and now I know
+exactly what’s the matter with you. You have a wishbone inside you. I
+can feel it!” she told him, as she prodded him in the waistcoat.
+
+“I wish you could get it out for me!” said Solomon with a look of
+distress.
+
+“All the wishing in the world won’t help you,” she answered, “unless we
+can find some way of removing the wishbone so you can wish on that.
+Then I’m sure you would feel better at once.”
+
+“This is strange,” 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.
+
+His pains, however, grew less from day to day—at least, the pains that
+had first troubled him. But he had others to take their place. Hunger
+pangs, these were! And they were almost as bad as those that had sent
+him hurrying to see Aunt Polly Woodchuck.
+
+On the whole, Solomon passed a very unhappy week. Flying head foremost
+into tree-trunks (as Aunt Polly had instructed him to do) gave him many
+bumps and bruises. So he was glad when the time came for him to return
+to her house in the pasture.
+
+Solomon’s neighbors had been so interested in watching him that they
+were all sorry when he ceased his strange actions. Indeed, there was a
+rumor that Solomon had become very angry with Farmer Green and that he
+was trying to knock down some of Farmer Green’s trees. Before the end
+of that unpleasant week Solomon had often noticed as many as
+twenty-four of the forest folk following him about, hoping to see a
+tree fall.
+
+But they were all disappointed. However, they enjoyed the sight of
+Solomon hurling himself against tree-trunks. And the louder he groaned,
+the more people gathered around him.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+Cured At Last
+
+
+“How do you feel now?” Aunt Polly Woodchuck asked Solomon Owl, when he
+had come back to her house after a week’s absence.
+
+“No better!” he groaned. “I still have pains. But they seem to have
+moved and scattered all over me.”
+
+“Good!” she exclaimed with a smile. “You are much better, though you
+didn’t know it. The wishbone is broken. You broke it by flying against
+the trees. And you ought not to have any more trouble. But let me
+examine you!” she said, prodding him in the waistcoat once more.
+
+“This is odd!” she continued a bit later. “I can feel the wishbone more
+plainly than ever.”
+
+“That’s my own wishbone!” Solomon cried indignantly. “I’ve grown so
+thin through not eating that it’s a wonder you can’t feel my backbone,
+too.”
+
+Aunt Polly Woodchuck looked surprised.
+
+“Perhaps you’re right!” said she. “Not having a wishbone of my own, I
+forgot that you had one.”
+
+A look of disgust came over Solomon Owl’s face.
+
+“You’re a very poor doctor,” he told her. “Here you’ve kept me from
+eating for a whole week—and I don’t believe it was necessary at all!”
+
+“Well, you’re better, aren’t you?” she asked him.
+
+“I shall be as soon as I have a good meal,” replied Solomon Owl,
+hopefully.
+
+“You ought not to eat anything for another week,” Aunt Polly told him
+solemnly.
+
+“Nonsense!” he cried.
+
+“I’m a doctor; and I ought to know best,” she insisted.
+
+But Solomon Owl hooted rudely.
+
+“I’ll never come to you for advice any more,” he declared. “I firmly
+believe that my whole trouble was simply that I’ve been eating too
+sparingly. And I shall take good care to see that it doesn’t happen
+again.”
+
+No one had ever spoken to Aunt Polly in quite that fashion—though old
+Mr. Crow had complained one time that she had cured him _too quickly_.
+But she did not lose her temper, in spite of Solomon’s jeers.
+
+“You’ll be back here again the very next time you’re ill,” she
+remarked. “And if you continue to swallow your food whole——”
+
+But Solomon Owl did not even wait to hear what she said. He was so
+impolite that he flew away while she was talking. And since it was then
+almost dark, and a good time to look for field mice, he began his
+night’s hunting right there in Farmer Green’s pasture.
+
+By morning Solomon was so plump that Aunt Polly Woodchuck would have
+had a good deal of trouble finding his wishbone. But since he did not
+visit her again, she had no further chance to prod him in the
+waistcoat.
+
+Afterward, Solomon heard a bit of gossip that annoyed him. 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.
+He had neighbors that chose to sleep in the daytime, so they might roam
+through the woods and fields after dark. One of these was Benjamin Bat.
+And furthermore, he was the color of night itself.
+
+Now, Benjamin Bat was an odd chap. When he was still he liked to hang
+by his feet, upside down. And when he was flying he sailed about in a
+zigzag, helter-skelter fashion. He went in so many different
+directions, turning this way and that, one could never tell where he
+was going. 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. And since Benjamin was the least bit like a
+mouse himself—except for his wings—there was a time, once, when Solomon
+tried to catch him.
+
+But Solomon Owl soon found that chasing Benjamin Bat made him dizzy. If
+Benjamin hadn’t been used to hanging head downward, maybe he would have
+been dizzy, too.
+
+Though the two often saw each other, Benjamin Bat never seemed to care
+to stop for a chat with Solomon Owl. One night, however, Benjamin
+actually called to Solomon and asked his advice. He was in trouble. And
+he knew that Solomon Owl was supposed by some to be the wisest old
+fellow for miles around.
+
+It was almost morning. And Solomon Owl was hurrying home, because a
+terrible storm had arisen. The lightning was flashing, and peals of
+thunder crashed through the woods. Big drops of rain were already
+pattering down. But Solomon Owl did not care, for he had almost reached
+his house in the hollow hemlock near the foot of Blue Mountain.
+
+It was different with Benjamin Bat. That night he had strayed a long
+distance from his home in Cedar Swamp. And he didn’t know what to do.
+“I want to get under cover, somewhere,” he told Solomon Owl. “You don’t
+know of a good place near-by, do you, where I can get out of the storm
+and take a nap?”
+
+“Why, yes!” answered Solomon Owl. “Come right along to my house and
+spend the day with me!”
+
+But Benjamin Bat did not like the suggestion at all.
+
+“I’m afraid I might crowd, you,” he said. He was thinking of the time
+when Solomon Owl had chased him. And sleeping in Solomon Owl’s house
+seemed far from a safe thing to do.
+
+
+[Illustration: ] Benjamin Asked Solomon’s Advice
+
+
+Solomon was wise enough to guess what was going on inside Benjamin’s
+head.
+
+“Come along!” he said. “We’ll both be asleep before we know it. I’m
+sorry I can’t offer you something to eat. But I haven’t a morsel of
+food in my house. No doubt, though, you’ve just had a good meal. _I_
+ate seven mice to-night. And I certainly couldn’t eat anything more.”
+
+When Solomon Owl told him that, Benjamin Bat thought perhaps there was
+no danger, after all. And since the rain was falling harder and harder
+every moment, he thanked Solomon and said he would be glad to accent
+his invitation.
+
+“Follow me, then!” said Solomon Owl. And he led the way to his home in
+the hemlock.
+
+For once, Benjamin Bat flew in a fairly straight line, though he did a
+little dodging, because he couldn’t help it.
+
+There was more room inside Solomon’s house than Benjamin Bat had
+supposed. While Benjamin was looking about and telling Solomon that he
+had a fine home, his host quickly made a bed of leaves in one corner of
+the room—there was only one room, of course.
+
+“That’s for you!” said Solomon Owl. “I always sleep on the other side
+of the house.” And without waiting even to make sure that his guest was
+comfortable, Solomon Owl lay down and began to snore—for he was very
+sleepy.
+
+It was so cozy there that Benjamin Bat was glad, already, that he had
+accepted Solomon’s invitation.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+The Lucky Guest
+
+
+In the middle of the day Solomon Owl happened to awake. He was sorry
+that he hadn’t slept until sunset, because he was very hungry. Knowing
+that it was light outside his hollow tree, he didn’t want to leave home
+to find something to eat.
+
+Then, suddenly, he remembered that he had brought Benjamin Bat to his
+house early that morning, so Benjamin might escape the storm.... Why
+not eat Benjamin Bat?
+
+As soon as the thought occurred to him, Solomon Owl liked it. And he
+moved stealthily over to the bed of leaves he had made for his guest
+just before daybreak.
+
+But Benjamin Bat was not there. Though Solomon looked in every nook and
+cranny of his one-room house, he did not find him.
+
+“He must have left as soon as it stopped raining,” said Solomon Owl to
+himself. “He might at least have waited to thank me for giving him a
+day’s lodging. It’s the last time I’ll ever bring any worthless
+vagabond into my house. And I ought to have known better than to have
+anything to do with a crazy person like Benjamin Bat.”
+
+Anybody can see that Solomon Owl was displeased. But it was not at all
+astonishing, if one stops to remember how hungry he was, and that he
+had expected to enjoy a good meal without the trouble of going away
+from home to get it.
+
+Solomon Owl went to the door of his house and looked out. The sun was
+shining so brightly that after blinking in his doorway for a few
+minutes he decided that he would go to bed again and try to sleep until
+dusk. He never liked bright days. “They’re so dismal!” he used to say.
+“Give me a good, dark night and I’m happy, for there’s nothing more
+cheering than gloom.”
+
+In spite of the pangs of hunger that gnawed inside him, Solomon at last
+succeeded in falling asleep once more. And he dreamed that he chased
+Benjamin Bat three times around Blue Mountain, and then three times
+back again, in the opposite direction. But he never could catch him,
+because Benjamin Bat simply wouldn’t fly straight. His zigzag course
+was so confusing that even in his dream Solomon Owl grew dizzy.
+
+Now, Benjamin Bat was in Solomon’s house all the time. And the reason
+why Solomon Owl hadn’t found him was a very simple one. It was merely
+that Solomon hadn’t looked in the right place.
+
+Benjamin Bat was hidden—as you might say—where his hungry host never
+once thought of looking for him. And being asleep all the while,
+Benjamin didn’t once move or make the slightest noise.
+
+If he had snored, or sneezed, or rustled his wings, no doubt Solomon
+Owl would have found him.
+
+When Benjamin awakened, late in the afternoon, Solomon was still
+sleeping. And Benjamin crept through the door and went out into the
+gathering twilight, without arousing Solomon.
+
+“I’ll thank him the next time I meet him,” Benjamin Bat decided. And he
+staggered away through the air as if he did not quite know, himself,
+where he was going. But, of course, that was only his queer way of
+flying.
+
+When he told his friends where he had spent the day they were
+astonished.
+
+“How did you ever dare do anything so dangerous as sleeping in Solomon
+Owl’s house?” they all asked him.
+
+But Benjamin Bat only said, “Oh! There was nothing to be afraid of.”
+And he began to feel quite important.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+Hanging By The Heels
+
+
+It was several nights before Solomon Owl and Benjamin Bat chanced to
+meet again in the forest.
+
+“Hullo!” said Solomon.
+
+“Hullo!” said Benjamin Bat. “I’m glad to see you, because I want to
+thank you for letting me spend the day in your house, so I wouldn’t
+have to stay out in the storm.”
+
+“You must be a light sleeper,” Solomon observed. (He did not tell
+Benjamin that he was welcome!)
+
+“What makes you think that?” Benjamin Bat inquired.
+
+“Why—you left my house before noon,” Solomon told him.
+
+“Oh, no!” said Benjamin. “I slept soundly until sunset. When I came
+away the crickets were chirping. And I was surprised that you hadn’t
+waked up yourself.”
+
+“You were gone before midday,” Solomon Owl insisted. And they had
+something very like a dispute, while Solomon Owl sat in one tree and
+Benjamin Bat hung head downward from another. “I ought to know,” said
+Solomon. “I was awake about noon; and I looked everywhere for you.”
+
+“What for?” asked Benjamin.
+
+Naturally, Solomon didn’t like to tell him that he had intended to eat
+him. So he looked wise—and said nothing.
+
+“You didn’t look on the ceiling, did you?” Benjamin Bat inquired.
+
+“No, indeed!” Solomon Owl exclaimed.
+
+“Well, that’s where I was, hanging by my feet,” Benjamin Bat informed
+him.
+
+Solomon Owl certainly was surprised to hear that.
+
+“The idea!” he cried. “You’re a queer one! I never once thought of
+looking _on the ceiling_ for a _luncheon!_” He was so astonished that
+he spoke before he thought how oddly his remark would sound to another.
+
+When he heard what Solomon Owl said, Benjamin Bat knew at once that
+Solomon had meant to eat him. And he was so frightened that he dropped
+from the limb to which he was clinging and flew off as fast as he could
+go. For once in his life he flew in a straight line, with no zigzags at
+all, he was in such a hurry to get away from Solomon Owl, who—for all
+he knew—might still be very hungry.
+
+But Solomon Owl had caught so many mice that night that he didn’t feel
+like chasing anybody. So he sat motionless in the tree, merely turning
+his head to watch Benjamin sailing away through the dusky woods. He
+noticed that Benjamin didn’t dodge at all—except when there was a tree
+in his way. And he wondered what the reason was.
+
+“Perhaps he’s not so crazy as I supposed,” said Solomon Owl to himself.
+And ever afterward, when he happened to awake and feel hungry, Solomon
+Owl used to look up at the ceiling above him and wish that Benjamin Bat
+was there.
+
+But Benjamin Bat never cared to have anything more to do with Solomon
+Owl.
+
+He said he had a good reason for avoiding him.
+
+And ever afterward he passed for a very brave person among his friends.
+They often pointed him out to strangers, saying, “There’s Benjamin Bat!
+_He_ doesn’t know what fear is. Why, once he even spent a whole day
+asleep in Solomon Owl’s house! And if you don’t think _that_ was a bold
+thing to do, then I guess you don’t know Solomon Owl.”
+
+
+
+
+XV
+Disputes Settled
+
+
+Solomon Owl looked so wise that many of his neighbors fell into the
+habit of going to him for advice. If two of the forest folk chanced to
+have a dispute which they could not settle between them they frequently
+visited Solomon and asked him to decide which was in the right. And in
+the course of time Solomon became known far and wide for his ability to
+patch up a quarrel.
+
+At last Jimmy Rabbit stopped Solomon Owl one night and suggested that
+he hang a sign outside his house, so that there shouldn’t be anybody in
+the whole valley that wouldn’t know what to do in case he found himself
+in an argument.
+
+Solomon decided on the spot that Jimmy Rabbit’s idea was a good one. So
+he hurried home and before morning he had his sign made, and put out
+where everyone could see it. It looked like this:
+
+DISPUTES SETTLED WITHIN
+
+
+There was only one objection to the sign. As soon as Jimmy Rabbit saw
+it he told Solomon that it should have said:
+
+DISPUTES SETTLED WITHOUT
+
+
+“Without what?” Solomon Owl inquired.
+
+“Why, without going into your house!” said Jimmy Rabbit. “I can’t climb
+a tree, you know. And neither can Tommy Fox. We might have a dispute
+to-night; and how could you ever settle it?”
+
+“Oh, I shall be willing to step outside,” Solomon told him. And he
+refused to change the sign, declaring that he liked it just as it was.
+
+Now, there was only one trouble with Solomon Owl’s settling of
+disputes. Many of the forest folk wanted to see him in the daytime. And
+_night_ was the only time _he_ was willing to see them. But he heard so
+many objections to that arrangement that in the end Solomon agreed to
+meet people at dusk and at dawn, when it was neither very dark nor very
+light. On the whole he found that way very satisfactory, because there
+was just enough light at dusk and at dawn to make him blink. And when
+Solomon blinked he looked even wiser than ever.
+
+Well, the first disputing pair that came to Solomon’s tree after he
+hung out his new sign were old Mr. Crow and Jasper Jay. They reached
+the hemlock grove soon after sunset and squalled loudly for Solomon.
+“Hurry!” Mr. Crow cried, as soon as Solomon Owl stepped outside his
+door. “It will be dark before we know it; and it’s almost our bedtime.”
+
+“What’s your difficulty?” Solomon asked them.
+
+Mr. Crow looked at Jasper Jay. And then he looked at Solomon again.
+
+“Maybe you won’t like to hear it,” he said. And he winked at Jasper.
+“But you’ve put out this sign—so we’ve come here.”
+
+“You’ve done just right!” exclaimed Solomon Owl. “And as for my not
+liking to hear the trouble, it’s your dispute and not mine. So I don’t
+see how it concerns me—except to settle it.”
+
+“Very Well,” 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.”
+
+Well, Solomon Owl certainly was displeased. And it didn’t make him feel
+any happier to hear Jasper Jay’s boisterous shouts, or the hoarse
+“_haw-haw_” of old Mr. Crow.
+
+“I hope you can decide which one of us is right,” Mr. Crow ventured.
+
+“I am, of course!” cried Jasper Jay.
+
+“You’re not!” Mr. Crow shouted. And to Solomon Owl he said, “We’ve been
+disputing like this all day long.”
+
+Solomon Owl didn’t know what to say. If he announced that Jasper was
+right it would be the same as admitting that he was the stupidest
+person in the whole neighborhood. And if he said that old Mr. Crow’s
+opinion was correct he would not be much better off. Naturally he
+didn’t want to tell either of them that he was right.
+
+“I’ll have to think about this,” Solomon observed at last.
+
+“We don’t want to wait,” said Mr. Crow. “If we keep on disputing we’re
+likely to have a fight.”
+
+Now, Solomon Owl hoped that they would have a fight. So he was
+determined to keep them waiting for his decision.
+
+“Come back to-morrow at this time,” he said.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+Nine Fights
+
+
+The next evening, just at dusk, Jasper Jay and old Mr. Crow returned to
+Solomon Owl’s house, looking much bedraggled. One of Mr. Crow’s eyes
+was almost closed; and Jasper Jay’s crest seemed to have been torn half
+off his head.
+
+“What’s the matter?” asked Solomon, as soon as he saw them.
+
+“We’ve had three fights,” said Jasper Jay.
+
+“Yes! And I’ve whipped him each time!” cried Mr. Crow. “So I must be in
+the right. And you’d better decide our dispute in my favor at once.”
+
+But Solomon Owl was still in no hurry.
+
+“It’s a difficult question to settle,” said he. “I don’t want to make
+any mistake. So I shall have to ask you to come back here to-morrow at
+this time.”
+
+Both Jasper and Mr. Crow seemed disappointed. Although Mr. Crow had won
+each fight, he was very weary, for he was older than Jasper Jay.
+
+As they went off, Solomon Owl began to feel much pleased with himself.
+
+The following evening, at sunset, old Mr. 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.”
+
+But that announcement did not satisfy Jasper and Mr. Crow. And they
+left the hemlock grove, disputing more loudly than ever.
+
+And the next day, at dusk, they came back again.
+
+“We’ve had three more fights; and I won!” they both cried at the same
+time.
+
+“That proves my claim,” said Solomon Owl. “You’re both wrong.”
+
+They whispered together for a few minutes.
+
+“We don’t like your way of settling disputes,” Mr. Crow remarked
+shortly. “But we’ve decided to stop quarreling.”
+
+“Good!” said Solomon Owl. “That shows that you are sensible.”
+
+“Yes!” replied Jasper. “We’ve decided to stop quarreling and fight
+_you!_”
+
+“Wait a moment!” said Solomon Owl hastily, as they drew nearer. “I
+don’t want my new suit spoiled.” And he ducked inside the hollow tree
+before they could reach him.
+
+Jasper and Mr. Crow waited and waited. But Solomon Owl did not
+reappear. And since his two visitors did not dare follow him into the
+dark cavern where he lived, they decided at last that they would go
+home—and get into bed.
+
+“Let’s take away his sign, anyhow!” Jasper Jay suggested.
+
+So they pulled down Solomon’s sign, which said “Disputes Settled
+Within,” and they carried it off with them and hid it in some bushes.
+
+That same night Solomon Owl hunted for it for a long time. But he never
+found it.
+
+He decided not to hang out another, for he saw that settling disputes
+was a dangerous business.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+Cousin Simon Screecher
+
+
+Solomon Owl had a small cousin named Simon Screecher. He was unlike
+Solomon in some respects, because he always wore ear-tufts, and his
+eyes were yellow instead of black. But in some other ways he was no
+different from Solomon Owl, for he was a noisy chap and dearly loved
+mice—to eat.
+
+It happened that the two met in the woods one fine fall evening; and
+they agreed to go hunting mice together.
+
+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.
+
+That discovery did not please Solomon at all.
+
+“Look here!” he said. “Since we are hunting together it’s only fair to
+divide what we catch, half and half.”
+
+Simon Screecher hesitated. But after reflecting that his cousin was
+very big and very strong, he agreed to Solomon’s suggestion.
+
+So they resumed their hunting. And every time one of them caught two
+mice, he gave one mouse to his cousin.
+
+Still Solomon Owl was not satisfied.
+
+“Wait a moment!” Solomon called to Simon Screecher. “It has just
+occurred to me that I am more than twice as big as you are; so I ought
+to have twice as many mice as you.”
+
+This time Simon Screecher hesitated longer. He did not like the second
+suggestion even as well as the first. And in the end he said as much,
+too.
+
+But Solomon Owl insisted that it was only fair.
+
+“You surely ought to be glad to please your own cousin,” he told Simon.
+
+“It’s not that,” said Simon Screecher. “It seems to me that since I’m
+not half your size, I ought to have twice as many mice to eat, so I’ll
+grow bigger.”
+
+Well, Solomon Owl hadn’t thought of that. He was puzzled to know what
+to say. And he wanted time in which to ponder.
+
+“I’ll think over what you say,” he told Simon Screecher. “And now,
+since it’s almost dawn, we’d better not hunt any longer to-night. But
+I’ll meet you again at dusk if you’ll come to my house.”
+
+“Very well, Cousin Solomon!” Simon answered. “I’m sure that after
+you’ve had a good sleep you’ll be ready to agree with me.”
+
+“If that’s the case, I may not take any nap at all,” Solomon replied.
+
+“Oh! You ought to have your rest!” his cousin exclaimed. Simon knew
+that if Solomon went all day without sleep he would be frightfully
+peevish by nightfall.
+
+“Well—I’ll try to get forty winks,” Solomon promised. “But I don’t
+believe I can get more than that, because I have so much on my mind
+that I’m sure to be wakeful.”
+
+Simon Screecher was somewhat worried as they parted. His wailing,
+tremulous whistle, which floated through the shadowy woods, showed that
+he was far from happy.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+A Cousinly Quarrel
+
+
+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.
+
+The longer Solomon pondered, the farther he seemed from any answer that
+he liked. And he had begun to fear that he would not succeed in getting
+more than thirty-nine winks all day—instead of forty—when all at once
+an idea came into his mind.
+
+Solomon knew right away that he had nothing more to worry about. He
+dropped into a sound sleep with a pleasant smile upon his usually
+solemn face. And when he opened his eyes again it was time for Simon
+Screecher to arrive.
+
+Yes! Solomon could hear his cousin’s whistle even then. So he hurried
+to his door; and there was Simon, sitting on a limb of the big hemlock
+waiting for him!
+
+“It’s all right!” said Solomon to his cousin. “I agree to your
+suggestion. We’ll hunt together again to-night; and if you will give me
+one-third of all the mice you catch, I promise to give you two-thirds
+of all the mice that I capture.”
+
+“Good!” said Simon Screecher. And he looked vastly relieved. “Just hoot
+when you have any mice for me!”
+
+“Whistle when you have any for me!” Solomon Owl replied.
+
+And at that they started out for their night’s sport. It was not long
+before Simon Screecher’s well known whistle brought Solomon hurrying to
+him. Simon already had three mice, one of which he gave to Solomon,
+according to their agreement.
+
+That same thing happened several times; until at last Simon Screecher
+began to grumble.
+
+“What’s the matter?” he asked his cousin. “You are not hooting, as you
+promised you would.”
+
+“But I haven’t caught any mice yet!” Solomon Owl replied.
+
+
+[Illustration: ] “It’s All Right,” Said Solomon
+
+
+Again and again and again Simon’s call summoned Solomon. But not once
+did Solomon’s summon Simon. And all the time Simon Screecher grew more
+discontented. Toward the end of the night he declared flatly that he
+wasn’t going to hunt any more with his cousin.
+
+“I’ve done exactly as I agreed!” Solomon Owl protested.
+
+“You’re altogether too slow and clumsy,” Simon Screecher told him
+bluntly. “If I’m going to hunt with anybody after this I’m going to
+choose someone that’s as spry as I am. There’s no sense in my working
+for you. Here I’ve toiled all night long and I’m still hungry, for I’ve
+given you a third of my food.”
+
+They parted then—and none too pleasantly.
+
+In Simon’s whistle, as he flew away toward his home, there was
+unmistakable anger. But Solomon Owl’s answering hoots—while they were
+not exactly sweet—seemed to carry more than a hint of laughter.
+
+One would naturally think that Solomon might have been even hungrier
+than his small cousin. But it was not so. He had had more to eat than
+usual; for he had been very busy catching locusts and katydids—and
+frogs, too. Solomon Owl had not tried to catch a single mouse that
+night.
+
+You know now the idea that had come to him while he was lying awake in
+his house during the daytime. He had made up his mind that he would not
+hunt for mice. And since he had not promised Simon to give him anything
+else, there was no reason why he should not eat all the frogs and
+katydids and locusts that he could find.
+
+Perhaps it was not surprising that Simon Screecher never guessed the
+truth. But he seemed to know that there was something queer about that
+night’s hunting, for he never came to Solomon Owl’s house again.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+The Sleet Storm
+
+
+It was winter. And for several days a strong south wind had swept up
+Pleasant Valley. That—as Solomon Owl knew very well—that meant a thaw
+was coming. He was not sorry, because the weather had been bitterly
+cold.
+
+Well, the thaw came. And the weather grew so warm that Solomon Owl
+could stay out all night without once feeling chilled. He found the
+change so agreeable that he strayed further from home than was his
+custom. Indeed, he was far away on the other side of Blue Mountain at
+midnight, when it began to rain.
+
+Now, that was not quite so pleasant. But still Solomon did not mind
+greatly. It was not until later that he began to feel alarmed, when he
+noticed that flying did not seem so easy as usual.
+
+Solomon had grown heavy all at once—and goodness knows it was not
+because he had overeaten, for food was scarce at that season of the
+year. Moreover, Solomon’s wings were strangely stiff. When he moved
+them they _crackled_.
+
+“It must be my joints,” he said to himself. “I’m afraid this wetting
+has given me rheumatism.” So he started home at once—though it was only
+midnight. But the further he went, the worse he felt—and the harder it
+was to fly.
+
+“I’ll have to rest a while,” he said to himself at last. So he alighted
+on a limb; for he was more tired than he had ever been in all his life.
+
+But he soon felt so much better that he was ready to start on again.
+And then, to his dismay, Solomon Owl found that he could hardly stir.
+The moment he left his perch he floundered down upon the ground. And
+though he tried his hardest, he couldn’t reach the tree again.
+
+The rain was still beating down steadily. And Solomon began to think it
+a bad night to be out. What was worse, the weather was fast turning
+cold.
+
+“I’m afraid I’ll have to stay in bed a week after this,” he groaned.
+“If I sit here long, as wet as I am, while the thaw turns into a
+_freeze_, I shall certainly be ill.”
+
+Now, if it hadn’t been for the rain, Solomon Owl would have had no
+trouble at all. Or if it hadn’t been for the freezing cold he would
+have been in no difficulty. Though he didn’t know it, his trouble was
+simply this: The rain froze upon him as
+
+fast as it fell, covering him with a coating of ice. It was no wonder
+that he felt strangely heavy—no wonder that he couldn’t fly.
+
+There he crouched on the ground, while the rain and sleet beat upon
+him. And the only comforting thought that entered his head was that on
+so stormy a night Tommy Fox and Fatty Coon would be snug and warm in
+their beds. _They_ wouldn’t go out in such weather.
+
+And Solomon Owl wished that he, too, had stayed at home that night.
+
+From midnight until almost dawn Solomon Owl sat there. Now and then he
+tried to fly. But it was no use. He could scarcely raise himself off
+the ground.
+
+At last he decided he would have to _walk_ home. Fortunately, a hard
+crust covered the soft snow. So Solomon started off on his long
+journey.
+
+Flying, Solomon could have covered the distance in a few minutes. But
+he was a slow walker. 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.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+A Pair Of Red-Heads
+
+
+In the woods there was hardly one of Solomon Owl’s neighbors that
+couldn’t point out the big hemlock tree where he lived. And mischievous
+fellows like Reddy Woodpecker sometimes annoyed Solomon a good deal by
+rapping loudly on his door. When he thrust his head angrily out of his
+house and blinked in the sunlight, his tormentors would skip away and
+laugh. They laughed because they knew that they had awakened Solomon
+Owl. And they dodged out of his reach because he was always
+ill-tempered when anybody disturbed his rest in the daytime.
+
+Solomon Owl did not mind so _very_ much so long as that trick was not
+played on him too often. But after a time it became one of Reddy
+Woodpecker’s favorite sports. Not only once, but several times a day
+did he go to the hemlock grove to hammer upon Solomon’s hollow tree.
+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. And if there was a joke he wanted to enjoy
+it, too.
+
+Jasper Jay, alighting in a small hemlock near Reddy Woodpecker, asked
+the same question that Solomon Owl had just put to his rude caller.
+
+“What’s the joke?” inquired Jasper Jay.
+
+Reddy could not speak. He was rocking back and forth upon a limb,
+choking and gasping for breath. But he managed to point to the big tree
+where Solomon Owl lived.
+
+And when Jasper looked, and saw Solomon’s great, round, pale,
+questioning face, all tied up in a red nightcap, he began to scream.
+
+They were no ordinary screams—those shrieks of Jasper Jay’s. That
+blue-coated rascal was the noisiest of all the feathered folk in
+Pleasant Valley. And now he fairly made the woods echo with his hoarse
+cries.
+
+“This is the funniest sight I’ve ever seen!” Jasper Jay said at last,
+to nobody in particular. “I declare, there’s a pair of them!”
+
+At that, Reddy Woodpecker suddenly stopped laughing.
+
+“A pair of what?” he asked.
+
+“A pair of red-heads, of course!” Jasper Jay replied. “You’ve a red
+cap—and so has he!” Jasper pointed at Solomon Owl (a very rude thing to
+do!).
+
+Then two things happened all at once. Solomon Owl snatched off his red
+night-cap—which he had quite forgotten. And Reddy Woodpecker dashed at
+Jasper Jay. He couldn’t pull off _his_ red cap, for it grew right on
+his head.
+
+“So that’s what you’re laughing at, is it?” he cried angrily. And then
+nobody laughed any more—that is, nobody but Solomon Owl.
+
+Solomon was so pleased by the fight that followed between Jasper Jay
+and Reddy Woodpecker that his deep, rumbling laughter could be heard
+for half an hour—even if it _was_ midday. “_Wha-wha! Whoo-ah!_” The
+sound reached the ears of Farmer Green, who was just crossing a
+neighboring field, on his way home to dinner.
+
+“Well, well!” he exclaimed. “I wonder what’s happened to that old owl!
+Something must have tickled him—for I never heard an owl laugh in broad
+daylight before.”
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+At Home In The Haystack
+
+
+After what happened when he came to his door without remembering to
+take off his red nightcap, Solomon Owl hoped that Reddy Woodpecker
+would stop teasing him.
+
+But it was not so. Having once viewed Solomon’s red cap, Reddy
+Woodpecker wanted to see it some more. So he came again and again and
+knocked on Solomon’s door.
+
+Solomon Owl, however, remembered each time to remove his nightcap
+before sticking his head out. And it might be said that neither of them
+was exactly pleased. For Reddy Woodpecker was disappointed; and Solomon
+Owl was angry.
+
+Not a day passed that Reddy Woodpecker didn’t disturb Solomon’s rest at
+least a dozen times. Perhaps if Solomon had just kept still inside his
+house Reddy would have grown tired of bothering him. But Solomon
+Owl—for all he looked so wise—never thought of that.
+
+But he saw before a great while that he would have to make a change of
+some sort—if he wanted to enjoy a good, quiet sleep again.
+
+For a long time Solomon Owl pondered. It was a great puzzle—to know
+just how to outwit Reddy Woodpecker. And Solomon almost despaired of
+finding a way out of the difficulty. But at last an idea came to him,
+all in a flash. He would take his daytime naps somewhere else!
+
+Solomon spent several nights looking for a good place to pass his days.
+And in the end he decided on the meadow. 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. He
+burrowed into one side of it and made himself a snug chamber, which was
+as dark as a pocket—and ever so much quieter. What pleased Solomon
+most, however, was this: Nobody knew about that new retreat except
+himself.
+
+Even if Reddy Woodpecker should succeed in finding it, he never could
+disturb Solomon by drumming upon the haystack. If Reddy tried that
+trick, his bill would merely sink noiselessly into the hay.
+
+So Solomon Owl at last had a good day’s rest. And when he met Reddy
+Woodpecker just after sunset, Solomon was feeling so cheerful that he
+said “Good-evening!” quite pleasantly, before he remembered that it was
+Reddy who had teased him so often.
+
+“Good-evening!” Reddy Woodpecker replied. He seemed much surprised that
+Solomon Owl should be so agreeable. “Can you hear me?” Reddy asked him.
+
+“Perfectly!” said Solomon.
+
+“That’s strange!” Reddy Woodpecker exclaimed. “I was almost sure you
+had suddenly grown deaf.” And he could not understand why Solomon Owl
+laughed loud and long.
+
+“_Wha-wha! Whoo-ah!_” Solomon’s deep-voiced laughter rolled and echoed
+through the woodland.
+
+But Reddy Woodpecker did not laugh at all.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+It Was Solomon’s Fault
+
+
+Reddy Woodpecker had a very good reason for not laughing when he met
+Solomon Owl. Of course, he knew nothing whatever of Solomon’s new
+hiding place in the haystack. And that very morning Reddy had invited a
+party of friends to go with him to the hemlock grove where Solomon Owl
+had always lived, “to have some fun,” as Reddy had explained.
+
+For a long time he had knocked and hammered and pounded at Solomon
+Owl’s door. But for once Solomon’s great pale face did not appear.
+
+“Where’s the fun?” Reddy’s friends had wanted to know, after they had
+waited until they were impatient.
+
+And Reddy Woodpecker could only shake his head and say:
+
+“I can’t understand it! It’s never happened like this before. I’m
+afraid Solomon Owl has lost his hearing.”
+
+Reddy Woodpecker’s friends were no more polite than he. And they began
+to jeer at him.
+
+“You didn’t hammer loud enough,” one of them told him.
+
+So he set to work again and rapped and rapped until his head felt as if
+it would fly off, and his neck began to ache.
+
+Still, Solomon Owl did not appear. And the party broke up in something
+very like a quarrel. For Reddy Woodpecker lost his temper when his
+friends teased him; and a good many unpleasant remarks passed back and
+forth.
+
+Somehow, Reddy felt that it was all Solomon Owl’s fault, because he
+hadn’t come to the door.
+
+Of course, Reddy had no means of knowing that all that time Solomon Owl
+was sleeping peacefully in Farmer Green’s haystack in the meadow, a
+quarter of a mile away.
+
+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.
+
+“Solomon Owl is a sight—he’s so fat!” people began to say.
+
+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 he felt his bedroom quiver as if
+an earthquake had shaken it.
+
+Scrambling to his doorway and peeping slyly out, Solomon saw a sight
+that made him very angry. A hayrack stood alongside the stack; and on
+it stood Farmer Green and his hired man. Each had a pitchfork in his
+hands, with which he tore great forkfuls of hay off the stack and piled
+it upon the wagon.
+
+Solomon Owl knew then that his fine hiding place was going to be
+spoiled. As soon as the horses had pulled the load of hay away, with
+Farmer Green and the hired man riding on top of it, Solomon Owl crept
+out of his snug bedroom and hurried off to the woods.
+
+He was so fat that it was several days before he could squeeze inside
+his old home in the hollow hemlock. And for the time being he had to
+sit on a limb and sleep in the daylight as best he could.
+
+But to his surprise, Reddy Woodpecker troubled him no more. Reddy had
+drummed so hard on Solomon’s door, in the effort to awake him when he
+wasn’t there, that Aunt Polly Woodchuck told him he would ruin his
+bill, if he didn’t look out. And since the warning thoroughly alarmed
+him, Reddy stopped visiting the hemlock grove.
+
+In time Solomon Owl grew to look like himself again. And people never
+really knew just what had happened to him. But they noticed that he
+always hooted angrily whenever anybody mentioned Farmer Green’s name.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF SOLOMON OWL ***
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