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face,"

The upper picture (Copyrighted by Herman T. Bohlman) is that of a half-grown barn owl, "a as the author of the article says, "that looked like some old grandmother dressed in a night cap." The lower picture is also of a half-grown owl. showing the extremely ludicrous expression that the bird assumes.

An interesting study of the Barn Owl with the aid of a camera. The third in the series of Nature Articles, the first of which appeared in the January number and the second in the May number

T

By William Lovell Finley
Photographs by Herman T. Bohlman

HERE is not a tumble-down barn in the country that does not shelter good material for a naturalist's notebook. Take it all in all, the oldest shacks are the most productive. If they are not bored full of flicker holes, you will find swallows nesting in the eaves. If there is a hole and a snug corner, some wren or bluebird has likely climbed in and built a home. If it be near town, some English sparrow has perhaps been living there all winter, and at the first indication of spring has begun carrying in grass and sticks.

Years ago our nearest neighbor got a pair of pigeons, sawed two holes up in the corner of his barn and nailed up a soap box. The pigeons disappeared one day, and the next spring a pair of barn owls moved in. That was seven or eight years ago, but the old dusty box in the gable is still rented to the same pair. I have no doubt the tenants will remain as long as the barn lasts.

tenant. No one is particularly fond of an owl. More than that, his actions are against him. It's natural that we haven't much sympathy for a fellow who is up and sneaking around all night, and sleeping through the day. There is always some suspicion attached to a night prowler, whether he be a bird, man or beast. However, I have often watched the barn owl and studied his habits, and I am satisfied he paid our neighbor more in one night than the pigeons, swallows and wrens did in a month. Not in singing, mercy no! Who ever heard of a song coming from a hooked bill? It was in real service about the farm, the service of a watchman or policeman to rid the place of injurious rodents.

It was not an easy matter to picture these barn owls, situated as they were in the very peak of the old barn. The minute we approached the nest-box, the old owl pitched headlong out the hole and landed in a willow tree opposite. We had to climb a ladder and swing into the Now, the barn owl is a queer looking rafters to reach the nest. In such a place

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The barn around which this article is written. Note the pigeon holes in the gable end where the barn
The same pair has lived here for the last seven or eight years.

owl nests every year.

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PORTRAIT OF THE BARN OWL. Perhaps no bird has greater economic value. He is a valuable resident of every farming community and should be protected in every way.

we could hardly handle a camera. There was not even a loft to work from, so we secured a long ladder and nailed a couple of cross-pieces strong enough to hold a board. Crawling up in a stooped position, we took the back out of the nestbox and arranged it so it would drop down and show the interior, or could be fastened up at will.

A month later we climbed up in the gable end of the barn and pulled out three of the funniest, fuzziest, monkey-faced little brats that it has ever been my privilege to set eyes upon. They blinked, snapped their bills and hissed like a boxfull of snakes. We took them to the ground and doubled up in laughter at their queer antics. They bobbed and screwed around in

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"We found them graded in size and height as carefully as a carpenter builds the
steps of a staircase."

more funny attitudes in a minute than
any contortionist I ever saw.

We found them graded in size and height as carefully as a carpenter builds the steps of a staircase. They were such lumpy looking birds. It looked as if some

amateur taxidermist had taken them in hand and rammed the cotton in, wad at a time, with a stick, till he had the youngsters bulging out in knobs all over.

The youngest we called the undertaker, on account of his facial expression. The

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The same young owls as those represented in above picture. They are two weeks old.

eldest we called the colonel, but, looking at him from a humanized standpoint, it seemed to me he had been put together wrong, for his chest had slipped clear around on his back. At times he was a peaceable looking citizen, but he was always wary and suspicious. He turned his back on the camera in disgust, or sat in a soured state of silence, but one eye was always open and watching every movement we made.

We crept out one night and hid in a brush heap by the barn. It was not long before the scratching and soft hissing of the young owls told us their breakfast time had come. The curtain of the night had fallen. The day creatures were at rest. Suddenly a shadow flared across the dim-lit sky; there was a soundless sweeping of wings as the shadow winnowed back again. The young owls, by some unmistakable perception, knew of the approach of food, for there was a sudden outburst in the soap-box like the whistle of escaping steam. It was answered by an unearthly, rasping, witching screech. I thought of the time we used to creep out at dead of night and scare an old negro by drawing a chunk of resin along a cord

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The barn owl alighting. This is one of the most striking pictures in the series, showing as it does the profile of the bird with its skeleton-like suggestion. The owl is the greatest enemy of mice, gophers, moles and squirrels, killing more of the se rodents in a night than a dozen cats. It rarely catches small birds. Its sharp eye, delicate ear and swift wings make it the superior of small animals.

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