was sleeping peacefully in Farmer Green’s haystack in the meadow, a
quarter of a mile away.

It was a good joke on Reddy Woodpecker. And though no one had told Solomon
Owl about it, he was not so stupid that he couldn’t guess at least _a
little_ that had happened.



Solomon Owl continued to have a very pleasant time living in the meadow.
Since there were many mice right close at hand, little by little he
visited the woods less and less. And there came a time at last when he
hardly left the meadow at all.

Not flying any more than he could help, and eating too much, and sleeping
very soundly each day, he grew stouter than ever, until his friends hardly
knew him when they saw him.

“Solomon Owl is a sight—he’s so fat!” people began to say.

But his size never worried Solomon Owl in the least. When he became too
big for his doorway in the haystack, it was a simple matter to make the
opening larger—much simpler than it would have been to make himself
_smaller_. And that was another reason why he was delighted with his new
home.

At last, however, something happened to put an end to his lazy way of
living. One day the sound of men’s voices awakened him, when he was having
a good nap in the haystack. And he felt his bedroom quiver as if an
earthquake had shaken it.