"It would be better
were I to leave him altogether. I could gather provisions enough for the
winter, as well as the squirrels do, and if I were to live in a dark
corner of the stable or the cow shed, I shouldn't freeze to death."
Just as he was thinking this, he heard a light rustle over his head,
and a second later something which resembled a birch stump stood on the
ground beside him.
The stump twisted and turned, and two bright dots on top of it glowed
like coals of fire. It looked like some enchantment. However, the boy
soon remarked that the stump had a hooked beak and big feather wreaths
around its glowing eyes. Then he knew that this was no enchantment.
"It is a real pleasure to meet a living creature," remarked the boy.
"Perhaps you will be good enough to tell me the name of this place, Mrs.
Brown Owl, and what sort of folk live here."
That evening, as on all other evenings, the owl had perched on a rung of
the big ladder propped against the roof, from which she had looked down
toward the gravel walks and grass plots, watching for rats. Very much to
her surprise, not a single grayskin had appeared. She saw instead
something that looked like a human being, but much, much smaller, moving
about in the garden.
"That's the one who is scaring away the rats!" thought the owl. "What in
the world can it be? It's not a squirrel, nor a kitten, nor a weasel,"
she observed.
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