“Where?” said Grace, “on that bare branch of the yew? O dear! I never saw such a bird before: what a large round head he has!”
“And look at his beak,” said Tom, “in the shape of a hook, that is for him to tear his prey with. There, that cloud has blown over, and we can see him well. He is quite brisk now: I should like to see him dart on a bird or a mouse.”
“O dear! I never saw such a bird before: what a large round head he has!”
“I should not,” said Grace; “for though it is no worse than for us to eat cows and sheep, yet his sharp claws must hurt them so much, and I could not bear to hear them squeak.”
“Nor I,” said Tom. “Well, the old man has flown away now, so we had better go home.”
“Did you ever see an owl before, Tom?” said Grace.
“Yes, once, a long while ago, when I was at play in the wood. I was going to hide in the trunk of an old tree, but when I put my head in, I heard such a noise, and looking up, I saw a large owl: he flapped his wings, and looked so fierce, that I ran away; and mamma told me a great deal about owls, when I got home.”
“We must not run over the lawn, Tom,” said Grace, “for the dew is so thick.”
“Well, here we are at the door, quite safe,” said Tom: “now you will not be afraid when you hear an owl hoot again.”