I wish to tell all the little folks, like myself, who read YOUNG
PEOPLE, of our home near the capital of the United States. From the
heights near our house we have a beautiful view of the cities of
Georgetown and Washington; and when the day is fair we can see
Sugarloaf Mountain, away up the Potomac River, and down the river
to Alexandria and Mount Vernon, the former home of our great
General Washington.
We have a beautiful oak grove just back of our house, and a dear
little owl lived there for several years. When we children played
in the grove, laughing and shouting, he would come out of the hole
in the side of the old oak-tree, and listen as if he were wondering
what all the noise was about. When we moved back here last spring,
the little owl was gone. A family of pretty little red squirrels
had taken his place, and I guess they drove him out to seek a home
somewhere else. The little usurpers seem very happy in their new
home. We often see them playing and skipping about, and as we never
molest them, they have grown quite tame, but we all wish the little
owl would come back too. He used to do some funny things.
One night mamma went into the parlor, and was very much surprised
to find all her beautiful ferns pulled out of the vase. As none of
the children had done it, she didn't know what to think. She
re-arranged them all nicely in the vase, but on going into the
parlor in the morning, found them all scattered over the floor
again. She was more surprised than ever, when, on looking up, there
sat the little owl on one of the picture-frames, looking as wise as
possible out of his great big eyes. He had come down the chimney,
mamma thinks. She took him down, and after giving him a good
talking to for his badness, carried him out to the grove, and
letting him go, away he flew up to his nice warm nest in the old
oak-tree again.
I am eleven years old, and have four sisters and two brothers, so
you see "we are seven." We have a nice school near by, and last
month my teacher gave me the highest number (100) on the roll of
honor for deportment and perfect lessons.
I will be so much obliged if you publish my true story of the
little owl, for I think it will please those who live in the large
cities, and never have a chance of seeing the beautiful country,
and the great oak-trees.