Three blackbirds he employed as constables arrived at break of day at the owls’ front door and knocked. Three times they had to repeat the summons, so fast asleep was the worthy couple, till, roused at last, the latter poked out their heads in great alarm to ask what was wanted with them. Both looked so upset, he, poor fellow, in a nightcap, and she, good dame, in morning deshabille, that the blackbirds, who are always fond of a joke, burst into such a peal of laughter it took them ten minutes to recover their gravity.
They laughed so heartily that the sparrows of the neighbourhood were attracted by the noise, and began to turn and wheel in flocks above the roof, while a horrid hubbub, a vile chirp! chirp! chirp! broke out, deafening and confusing the poor owls still more.
The blackbirds, when they had done laughing, called for silence, which, however, it took some time to establish. Then they announced—
“We, assistant officers of justice of this district, and by order of His Honour the Judge, do hereby summon you to appear this day before stroke of noon at his Court, situate, to wit, in the first crevice on the right hand, beginning from above, of the cliff bordering the Great Meadow.”
This order was promulgated in shrill, nasal tones amid the rustling of the wings of all present, who, the instant the last word was uttered, began to amuse themselves by screaming in frantic delight. On the blackbirds departing, a number of sparrows lingered on to enjoy the confusion of the two owls.
These had shrunk away into the deepest recess of their lair, terrified yet resigned, and their inquisitive tormentors heard none of the lamentations they expected.
What black deed had been laid to their charge? The blackbirds had given no indication, and they began mentally to review their past, searching in vain for any crime they could be accused of. They had not robbed other people’s goods, nor slandered their neighbours; they had never, no, never caused any one’s death, while they had honestly and honourably performed the duties Nature had given them to do. What more could be asked of them?
The Judge was waiting—they must be off. It was a woeful pilgrimage. The bright daylight dazzled them, and they went along blindly, running against everything and perpetually losing their way; twenty times over they lost their bearings and had to retrace their steps, covered with confusion, while their dusky plumage made a dirty-looking blotch in the fresh morning air.
“This way!” cried some tomtits, flying ahead of them—and, taking their word, they blundered into a nest of yellowhammers, which luckily happened to be empty.
“Don’t listen to them—come along with us,” the chaffinches advised them next—and they went crash! head first into a wall.