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“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.
Green’s remembrance; how they retained sight of the earth till they lost it behind the clouds; and how the reflection of the balloon on the undulating masses of vapour was gorgeously picturesque; together with a little science about the refraction of the sun’s rays, and some mysterious hints respecting atmospheric heat and eddying currents of air.
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.
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.
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.
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. Solomon Owl had pains—sharp pains—underneath his waistcoat.
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