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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. 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.
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. 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.
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.
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. The next evening, just at dusk, Jasper Jay and old Mr. Crow returned to Solomon Owl’s house, looking much bedraggled. One of Mr.
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 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.
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.
“Ah, I have it!” cried Bully. “My water bottle and my marbles!” And with that he hopped softly up on top of the stump, and leaning over the edge he saw below him the owl holding Johnnie. Then Bully took the water bottle, turned it upside down, and he sprinkled the water out as hard as he could on that savage owl’s back. Down it fell in a regular shower.
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.
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. 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.
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