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Updated: May 20, 2025
The dawn of another day always makes one wide awake." "It always makes one sleepy, you mean," Simon Screecher corrected him. Now, Turkey Proudfoot always grew angry when anybody corrected him in any way. And he flew into a rage. "Go away! Go home!" he spluttered. "I don't enjoy your company." Simon Screecher started homewards at once. "Farmyard manners!" he muttered.
Solomon Owl thundered. "If I'm not mistaken I heard a squeak. But no Meadow Mouse will ever venture out of doors if you're going to whistle." "I forgot," said Simon Screecher once more. "I'm so used to whistling that I don't know when I'm doing it." "That's the reason why you can't catch more Mice," Solomon Owl snapped; for he was angry. "There are dozens of Meadow Mice under the snow.
We tumble over each other in our hurry. Miss Screecher would really rather not sing; but if we insist We do insist. Miss Screecher, with pretty reluctance, consents. We are careful not to look at one another. We sit with our eyes fixed on the ceiling. Miss Screecher finishes, and rises. "But it was so short," we say, so soon as we can be heard above the applause.
And he changed his seat, so that he might keep his eyes on both his cousin and Dickie Deer Mouse at the same time. But Solomon Owl made matters very hard for Simon. Simon had no sooner seated himself comfortably when Solomon Owl moved to a perch behind him. Simon Screecher looked almost crosseyed, as he tried to watch everything that happened.
“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.
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. “It’s All Right,” Said Solomon Again and again and again Simon’s call summoned Solomon. But not once did Solomon’s summon Simon.
After his escape from Solomon Owl and Simon Screecher, Dickie Deer Mouse never felt quite so care-free as he always had before, when wandering through the woods at night. And he never stayed inside his house after dark without wondering whether Solomon or Simon could by any chance discover his snug home in the last year's bird's nest. It was not a pleasant thought.
Somehow it always sent a shiver over Chirpy. And sometimes it made him lose a few notes if he happened to be fiddling when he heard it. He learned that it was a dangerous bird known as Simon Screecher a cousin of Solomon Owl that made this uncanny call. If he had lived, like Solomon, across the meadow in the hemlock woods, Chirpy Cricket would have paid less heed to the noise he made.
It ought to be sharp and hooked to be of any use in a fight." With every word that Simon Screecher said, Turkey Proudfoot was growing angrier. "There's nothing wrong with my bill," he clamored. "I've had plenty of fights in the farmyard. The fowls are all afraid of me at home." Simon Screecher gave a most disagreeable laugh. "I wasn't thinking of farmyard fights," he sniffed.
Solomon Owl promptly moved to another limb behind Simon, and slightly higher. And Dickie Deer Mouse took heart when Simon Screecher began to make a queer sound by opening his beak and shutting it with a snap, as if he would like to nip somebody. Dickie knew that Simon Screecher was in a terrible rage.
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