the brown eyes did look particularly truthful.) Barn-door owls do make
a noise that is very like the snoring of an old man. And there are
some young ones who live in the spout at the corner of the wall of
your room. They're snoring and scrambling in and out of that spout all
night.'

"It was quite true, Ida, as we found, when Fatima was at last
persuaded to visit the corner where the rooms had been pulled down,
and where, decorated with ivy, the old spout formed a home for the
snoring owls. By the aid of the long pole he brought out a young one
to our view--a shy, soft, lovely, shadow-tinted creature, ghostly
enough to behold, who felt like an impalpable mass of fluff, utterly
refused to be kissed, and went savagely blinking back into his spout
at the earliest possible opportunity. His snoring alarmed us no more."

"And the noise really was that?" said Ida.

"It really was, my dear."

"It's a splendid story," said Ida; "you see, I didn't go to sleep
_this_ time. And what became of everybody, please? Did the red-haired
young lady marry the Irishman?"

"Very soon afterwards, my dear," said Mrs. Overtheway. "We kept up
our friendship, too, in after life; and I have many times amused their
children with the story of the Snoring Ghost."