was light outside his hollow tree, he didn’t want to leave home to find
something to eat.

Then, suddenly, he remembered that he had brought Benjamin Bat to his
house early that morning, so Benjamin might escape the storm.... Why not
eat Benjamin Bat?

As soon as the thought occurred to him, Solomon Owl liked it. And he moved
stealthily over to the bed of leaves he had made for his guest just before
daybreak.

But Benjamin Bat was not there. Though Solomon looked in every nook and
cranny of his one-room house, he did not find him.

“He must have left as soon as it stopped raining,” said Solomon Owl to
himself. “He might at least have waited to thank me for giving him a day’s
lodging. It’s the last time I’ll ever bring any worthless vagabond into my
house. And I ought to have known better than to have anything to do with a
crazy person like Benjamin Bat.”

Anybody can see that Solomon Owl was displeased. But it was not at all
astonishing, if one stops to remember how hungry he was, and that he had
expected to enjoy a good meal without the trouble of going away from home
to get it.

Solomon Owl went to the door of his house and looked out. The sun was
shining so brightly that after blinking in his doorway for a few minutes
he decided that he would go to bed again and try to sleep until dusk. He
never liked bright days. “They’re so dismal!” he used to say. “Give me a
good, dark night and I’m happy, for there’s nothing more cheering than