  Great Gray Owl sat up in the tree, winking and blinking. He would turn his head first in one direction, then in another. Wise old bird! What he could not see with those large glassy eyes of his was hardly worth seeing. Suddenly he flew to the ground. There, like a brave sentinel, he marched back and forth in front of the cave in which Father Thrift was sleeping. Several times in the night the queer little old man heard the hooting of the owl. More than once he thought he heard the wise bird say, “Who-oo, who-oo goes there?” The first time a sharp “Hiss-ss, hiss-ss!” came in reply. Father Thrift shivered to think of a snake crawling so near him. Then he heard the owl’s sharp command: “Halt! What is your business here?” “I’m visiting friends that live in a hole in that cave,” replied the snake. “I advise you to do your visiting some other time,” said the owl. “Father Thrift is sleeping in the cave to-night. He must not be disturbed.” With the snake the owl’s word was law. He had known of several snakes that had shortened their lives by not taking the wise bird’s advice. “Such strong claws, such a hooked bill, such sharp eyes, are not to be trifled with,” thought the snake, as he wriggled along toward home. “But what is the forest coming to when one can’t visit his friends? Besides, who is Father Thrift, anyway?” Just then Great Gray Owl called to the As he finished saying this the owl heard a loud crackling of twigs and a rustling of leaves behind him. He turned around just in time to face Shaggy Bear. “What, ho, Friend Owl!” cried the bear. “What are you about this evening? Are “No,” said Great Gray Owl, “not to-night. I am keeping watch so that Father Thrift may not be disturbed in his sleep.” “And who, pray, may Father Thrift be?” asked Shaggy Bear. “To-morrow, at ten o’clock in the morning, if you will come back here, you may learn who Father Thrift is. For the present I will say that the cave in which you have been in the habit of sleeping will be Father Thrift’s home in the future.” “So, so!” growled Shaggy Bear. “So, so!” (He spoke this last rather crossly.) “Yes,” said Great Gray Owl, “that, at least, has been decided.” Then he went on: “Aren’t you glad it was your cave that was chosen for Father Thrift? Aren’t you glad? Think of the honor it will be to you to have him use it! Just think of it!” What a fine fellow the owl was, to be sure, to give other people’s things away so generously! As for the bear, whether he thought of the honor or not, I cannot say. He never was known to be much of a thinker. Nevertheless the owl’s tactful words soothed him, and he felt quite satisfied to leave things as they were. “I know of other caves and of hollows in trees where I can sleep,” said Shaggy Bear. “When I’m full of honey I don’t care!” That the bear was full of honey seemed quite clear. Indeed, if you might judge by outside appearances, he was over full. The sticky stuff was running down his chin, and he kept wiping it off with his big paw as he walked away in lazy bear fashion. Before morning all the animals of the wood, and the birds and the bees, knew that What it was about or who Father Thrift was, not one of them knew. That is, no one knew except the owl; and he wouldn’t say. |
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