“I’ve come this time,” he began, “not to talk about animals or reptiles or fishes, but about owls.”
At once he could see an awakening of interest in the birds that were near him. Then he went on to tell all he knew about owls—their ancestors who had lived long ago, the different kinds that are living now, the big owls and the little owls, their habits, their dispositions, their pleasures, and their pains, not, of course, omitting courtship and marriage. Very soon he saw the birds that had lodged on the distant trees flying nearer, and as he went on they came one by one into the very tree where he stood, until all the owls that lived in the neighboring woods were gathered close around him; nor were they willing to leave while he continued his discourse. And after that, all he had to do was to vary somewhat his treatment of the same theme to secure a punctual and full attendance.
This fable proves that owls, like men, prefer to hear about things in which they feel the interest of kindred. The speaker or the book that can awaken our human sympathies is the one, as we know, that commands the largest audience and the closest attention.
THE HORSE AND THE GRASSHOPPERS.
A HORSE, while feeding in a meadow, frightened the grasshoppers at his feet, so that they flew up thickly on every side. Some chickens, discovering this, gathered around and accompanied him, eagerly devouring the insects. The horse did not notice them for a time and continued to move slowly along, thus providing them with an abundant supply. But, at length spying them at their repast, he suddenly raised his head, saying: