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Ovid, nearly two thousand years ago, was extremely severe against the owl. In his Metamorphoses he says: "Foedaque fit volucris, venturi nuncia luctus, Ignavus bubo, dirum mortalibus omen." In his Fasti he openly accuses it of felony: "Nocte volant, puerosque petunt nutricis egentes." Lucan, too, has hit it hard: "Et laetae juranter aves, bubone sinistro:"
Avarice, instigated by ladies and milliners, has looked with covetous eye on its downy and beautiful plumes; while ignorance and superstition have feared and hated the owl in all countries and all ages. In ancient Rome it was a bird of evil omen. Foedaque fit volucris venturi nuncia luctus, Ignavus bubo, dirum mortalibus omen.
A little time and experience will enable you to produce a finished specimen: "Mox similis volucri, mox vera volucris." If your early performance should not correspond with your expectations, do not let that cast you down. You cannot become an adept all at once.
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