Various - Birds and All Nature, Vol. V, No. 4, April 1899

"The queen of your heart and home," repeated Miss Jenny. "That sounds very nice, indeed. But when one gets married, my mamma says, then one's troubles begin."

"No, no, my dear one. Your husband will hold it his dearest privilege to guard you from every care. Life will be one long dream of bliss for us both. Say you will be mine."

"Well, I suppose I may as well say yes. Mamma says girls must be settled in life some time, and I am sure I fancy you infinitely more than any of the young sparrows hereabouts. So you can ask papa and – there, there! You will twist my bill off, and Mr. Woodpecker over there, I am sure is watching us. Really you put me in such a flutter with your fervor. There, you naughty boy; you mustn't any more. My! I am so nervous. I'll fly home now and quiet my nerves with a nap. I'm off. By-by."

The courtship was brief, as is the custom with our feathered friends, and so the wedding took place in a few days. The bride received the blessing of her parents for a dot and the groom a shrug of the shoulders and the comforting assurance from his father that he was a "ninny" and not aware when he was well off.

All went merry as a marriage bell for a season, Mr. Britisher twittering daily in soft low tones his prettiest love songs and his spouse listening in proud complacency as she oiled her feathers and curled them prettily with her bill.

"O," she said one day, when making a call upon a neighbor, "I'm quite the happiest creature in the world. Such a husband, and how he dotes on me! I had no idea I was such a piece of perfection, really. I wish all my friends were as well and happily mated. Those who have no such prospects are to be pitied indeed. Ah! you needn't bridle that way, Miss Brownie, for I had no particular individual in mind when I made that remark, believe me. Well, I must cut my visit short, for hubby will be looking for me, and he grows so impatient when I am out of his sight a moment. By-by. Run in and see us, do, all of you. We are stopping, you know, with papa and mamma for awhile."

"Did you ever see such a vain, silly thing?" said the mother of a large brood of very homely sparrows. "If my girls had no more sense than she, I'd strip every feather off 'em and keep 'em at home, I would!"

"She makes me sick," said a pert young thing in the group. " Perfection indeed! Why, when she laughs I'm always uneasy for fear her face will disappear down her throat. Such a mouth!"

"Hubby," mimicked another, "I thought I should collapse when she said that with her sickening simper."

"Well, well," smilingly said an old mother sparrow, "she'll sing another song before long. I predict she'll be a shiftless sort of a thing when it comes to housekeeping. Mr. Britisher will repent him of his bargain ere many days, mark my words! Dearie," turning to her only daughter, "sing that dear little note you learned of Mr. Lark for the company. Thank heaven," stroking her darling's ugly feathers, "I have my precious child still with me. She is not in a hurry to leave her poor mamma, is she?"

Many sly winks and smiles were exchanged among the matron's friends at this remark, for "dearie" had chirped that little note many summers and winters, and many a snare had mother and daughter set to entrap the sons of more than one lady sparrow there.

"My dear," said Mr. Britisher the very next morning, "we must begin to build a nest and make a home like other people. I think we may as well begin to-day."

"Build our nest?" responded Mrs. B. "Well, do as you think best, my dear. I intend to make a few calls to-day, so you may as well employ your time whilst I am away. I presume some of your folks will help you."

"I suppose nothing of the sort," replied Mr. B., curtly. "Do you think you are to do nothing but make calls from morning till night? I chose you for a helpmate, madam, and not a figurehead, let me tell you, and the sooner you settle down to your duties the better it will be for us both."

"Duties?" retorted Mrs. B., "the idea! Who was it that promised me that if I would marry him I should not have a care in the world?"

"Oh, all lovers say such things," replied Mr. B., with a contemptuous laugh. "They expect their lady-loves to have better sense than to believe them."

"Better sense than to believe them!" repeated Mrs. B., angrily. "So you admit your sex are all gay deceivers, do you? Oh, dear," tears coursing down her pretty feathered cheeks, "that I should be brought to this! Woe is me, woe is me!"

Mr. Britisher immediately flew to her side, and by caresses and fond words endeavored to tranquillize his spouse, for what husband can look upon the first tears of his bride and not upbraid himself for bringing a cloud over the heaven of her smiles?

Mrs. B. flew and hopped about with her wonted gaiety the remainder of the day, whilst Mr. B.'s preoccupation and downcast air was the cause of much comment and many wise "I told you so's," among the old lady-birds of the neighborhood.

The subject of nest-building was, of course, next day resumed; but Mrs. B. proved as indifferent and indisposed to participate in the labor as ever.

"Very well," said Mr. B., at last, resolutely disregarding her tears, "you will do as other wives do or else return to your mother. When a sparrow marries he expects his mate to do her share in making a home, and rearing a family. There is something to do in this world, madame, besides rollicking, singing, and visiting from post to pillar. Indeed, it is a wild scramble we have to make for a living, and you can no longer expect me to be furnishing you with tid-bits and insects out of season, while you gossip and idle your time away. You will have to-day to decide upon the matter," and off Mr. Britisher flew, with a heavy frown upon his face.

"Oh! I wish I had never been born," wailed Mrs. B., as the gentle wind stirred the leaves and swayed the branch upon which she was perched. "Already I begin to experience the troubles which old folks talk about. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I'll fly over to mother and tell her how shamefully Mr. B. is treating me. I won't stand it, there! Gracious! there is that meddlesome Mr. Blue Jay sneaking around as usual. He has heard me sobbing, I'm afraid, and all the neighbors will be gossiping before night of our affairs. There! how cheerily I sang when I flew off! He will think my sobs were a new song, perhaps. To think that I should be making believe I'm happy already. Happy! I shall never be happy again. My heart is broken. Mother will give Mr. Britisher a piece of her mind, I hope, and let him know I was never brought up to work, much less to be any man's slave."

OUR barn owl belongs to the tropical and warm temperate genus Strix , which is scattered widely over the greater part of the earth in the tropical and subtropical parts of both hemispheres, and scatteringly into the temperate zones. In Europe one species is common as far north as the British Isles, while our own bird is found as far north as southern New England in the East, Ontario, Michigan, Wisconsin, and southern Minnesota in the interior, and Oregon and Washington on the Pacific coast. It is hardly common anywhere except in the extreme southwestern part of the United States, where it is the most abundant owl in California. It is rare or casual north of about the fortieth parallel. But two specimens have been brought to the Oberlin College Museum in twenty years, one of which was found dead in a barn a mile east of Oberlin in December of 1898.

The barn owl is the most nocturnal of all our owls, although he can see perfectly in the brightest day. Not until twilight does he issue from his secure hiding-place to do battle with the farm and orchard pests. Then he may be seen sailing noiselessly over orchard and meadow in quest of any mischievous rodent that may be menacing the farmer's prospects. He seems to single out intelligently the ones that do the most injury, destroying large numbers of pouched gophers and other annoying and destructive creatures, asking only in return to be left in peace in his hiding-place. The farmer certainly has no better friend than this owl, for he destroys poultry only when driven to it by the direst necessity. In the East, his food consists largely of rats and mice; in some parts of the South the cotton rat is the chief diet; while in the West he feeds principally upon the gopher ( Thomomys talpoides bulbivorus ) and the California ground squirrel ( Spermophilus grammurus beecheyi ), according to Prof. B. W. Evermann. It seems pretty certain that fish are sometimes captured and eaten.