that’s as spry as I am. There’s no sense in my working for you. Here I’ve
toiled all night long and I’m still hungry, for I’ve given you a third of
my food.”

They parted then—and none too pleasantly.

In Simon’s whistle, as he flew away toward his home, there was
unmistakable anger. But Solomon Owl’s answering hoots—while they were not
exactly sweet—seemed to carry more than a hint of laughter.

One would naturally think that Solomon might have been even hungrier than
his small cousin. But it was not so. He had had more to eat than usual;
for he had been very busy catching locusts and katydids—and frogs, too.
Solomon Owl had not tried to catch a single mouse that night.

You know now the idea that had come to him while he was lying awake in his
house during the daytime. He had made up his mind that he would not hunt
for _mice_. And since he had not promised Simon to give him anything else,
there was no reason why he should not eat all the frogs and katydids and
locusts that he could find.

Perhaps it was not surprising that Simon Screecher never guessed the
truth. But he seemed to know that there was something queer about that
night’s hunting, for he never came to Solomon Owl’s house again.





XIX