Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1889-04-14
THE OWLS REVENGE.
"a TALE or BIRDS AND MEN.
aIscmilian.l

/.
In May oil woods are beautiful but OF
all the woods know there Is none on
which the month Of bluebeils so freely
layishes her delights as on the ancient
and unkept wood OF Truerne The
blue carpet spread in every clearing. the
gray-creen oak stems rising softly out OF
the blue, the heecy clouds OF spring,
reen gently moving eastward through
the rudy young leaves overhead can
never be forgotten by any one who mas
rambled here for whole May morn
ing. No trim psrk-paling shuts IN
Trierne wood its outskirts arc set about
In these sweet spring days. with an I'M
tidy maze Of Whitening hedges and I'M
crimpling fern, with stretches OF gorse
and trailing bramble. with dense thickets
of blackthorn where the nightingale
builds bis nest aud sings UNDECIDED. IL
is all this Wild setting OF the woodland,
ms we'll as the freedom of the wood
itseu. that makes IL so dear 70 such OF its
human neiehbors as love quiet and soli-
tnde. a well as 10 the birds and beasts
that find home and happiness IN Its
khclter.
OF few human beings who haunted
1t few years ago old Oliver the wood
man was the only one TO whom 1t had
wholly Welded up its secrets; and when
one dav he was found nader his favorlte
old oak tree, wrapped in y slumber from
which there was no awakening, we felt
that the good genius Of the wood had
vanished. leaving no successor. But on
The morning Of that 10th day OF May
on which my story begins and ends, old
Oliver was still vigorous, and had risen
Mt daybreak III order TO finish his work
early. He meant TO set forward about
midday for the neighbOring town on the
hill; for it was fair day, or "club as
we call it in these parts, Mt Northstow,
and be wished once more to buy fair
ing for the rheumatic old wife sitting by
the chimney-corner at home.
He is sitting and eating his dinner at
the foot of his favorite OaS, which IS
separated by few yards OF blue bells
and underground from one OF the grassy
rides or "lights" Jas we call them
which intersect the wood and let sun
shine and fresh air INTO ITS tangled
DEPTHS. Ii is his favorite tree, partly
because its gray lichened stem divides
on one side, as 1t nears the ground, into
two big root branches, which leave n
comfortable space between them-s
NOISY armchair. of which he only knows
the comfort who has toiled since day
break without ceasing, aud partly
because the tree is as old, as
old as the abbey Of Truerne. which
once stood under the shadow of the
wood in the meadows below, and be-
cause it is hollow enough 10 he the home
ola family of brown owls, whose ancestors
had been tenants of the wood long be-
fore the monks became its owners. These
owls were some of divers best friends :;
he seldom saw them, nor they him but,
boy and man, he had known them Tor
more than half century. and knew
them well to be- discreet and quiet crea-
lures, who did no harm and gave no
trouble TO any ono but yermin. There
was silent, mysterious sageness about
their vavs which suited well with the
old mans humor.
AS he sat there eating aud resting, the
silence of the wood was broken by the
sudden squeak Of pig and halt turn
ing his face IN the direction OF the ride,
Oliver saw an uplifted sapling descend
on the back OF the squeaker, who Raised
his piteous voice again and rushed on
ward down the path with his companions
They were followed by the owner OF the
sspling. a tall man IN a long greasy
coat OF a yellowish color; his fare
was fat and ruddy. and out of 1t there
looked two small cunning eyes, which
followed the movements OF his pigs to
right and left with merciless swift
less IL was the kind of face which men
seem 10 acquire Who spend their lives IN
driving pigs and driving bargains and
who are ever bullying animals and brow
beating their fellOwmen. Close at his
heels was another smaller man, little
wizened, disconnected farmer, whom MIR.
Pogson, with his natural imperative
ness, had pressed into his service IN
driving ms pigs to Northstow ialr. An
umbrella. AS decrepit as the farmer him.
self. was the weapon he used without
much energy " gen pig CHANGED to stray
in his direction.
Oliver kept very quiet rs they passed
he did not like FogSon and had no
respect for Weekes, the little farmer. at
last they had disappeared down the ride,
and after sitting awhile longer listening
10 the sibilant notes of the woOdwren
overhead and watching the squirrels and
the nuthatches who were iellow-owners
Of the tree opposite to him, he rose with
something OF "a Sigh, for he was unwll-
ling 10 exchange the quiet wood for the
noise and worry OF the fair, and stepped
into the bridle-path to set out on his
walk.
care ye ganging to the fair, Oliver,
We lonesome auld dog?" said grave
but friendly voice in Scotch accent. 1t
was the voice of MIR. McNab, the keeper,
who, without his gun and in his best vel
veteen. was on his way to look out for
spaniel puppy or two 20 fill vacant
places.
"Aye," said Oliver simply. and they
walked on side by side Sir. NcNabs
serious grey eyes CHANGING here and there
through the wood, and divers earnest
and rather wistful gaze kept steadily on
the bluebeils at his feet, az WAS his wont
when walking. Neither of them was a
man OF many words or many friends, nor
had they spoken TO each other halt q
dozen times year since the Scotchman
came into the neighborhood. Yet each
of them felt. as they went along, that he
had reasonable man beside him.
III.
1t was high tide at Northstow fair.
The broad, sloping street WAS crowded
with pens of sheep aud pigs, and re-
soundeJ with the noises of oppressed