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Updated: May 29, 2025
The bride was clothed in the garb of the Middle Ages; and held a book in her hand, with velvet covers, and golden clasps. It was Mary Ashburton. She looked at him as she passed. Her face was pale; and there were tears in her sweet eyes. Then the gates closed again; and one of the oaken poppy-heads over a carved stall, in the shape of an owl, flapped its broad wings, and hooted, "Towhit! to-whoo!"
It wouldn't have done for him to have spoken aloud what he was saying to himself, for then the little people in feathers and fur on whom he likes to make his dinner would have heard him and known just where he was. So he said it to himself, and sat so still that he looked for all the world like a part of the tree on which he was sitting. What he was saying was this: "Towhit, towhoo!
Towhit, towhoo! Will some one tell me what to do? My children have an appetite That keeps me hunting all the night, And though their stomachs I may stuff They never seem to have enough. Towhit, towhoo! Towhit, towhoo! Will some one tell me what to do?" When it was dark enough he gave his fierce hunting call "Whooo-hoo- hoo, whoo-hoo!"
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