Music Welcome to snoozecast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. You can connect with us on snoozecast.com. While you're there, if you'd like to get an email once a week with upcoming sleep stories and other news, subscribe to the snooze letter as well. This episode is brought to you by The Woods Folk. Tonight, we'll read the opening to The Bad Little Owls from the Told at Twilight series by John Breck. It was published in 1923. This episode first aired in May of 2021. A group of owls is called a parliament. This term supposedly originates from CS Lewis's description of a meeting of owls in the Chronicles of Narnia. Many of the other avian collective nouns originate in an anonymously published book from 1486 titled The Book of Hawking, Hunting, and Blazing of Arms. Later discovered to be written by a nun named Juliana Barnes. Some of the many terms from this book still in use today are an exaltation of larks, a murmuration of starlings, a watch of nightingales, a sedge of herons, and an unkindness of ravens. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. your body into the softness of your bed. Now take a few deep breaths. Chapter 1 The Woods folk learn the rules about fire. Take to the water quick, shouted Dr. Muscrat. Climatory. Advise, chatter squirrel. Bal balancing on the tip end of a limb. And they had the woodsfolk so excited they didn't know what to do. Most of them couldn't climb if they wanted to, and might a few of them liked to swim.

So those who were there tried to run away, and those who weren't came to see what was going on. Tommy Peel's woods were just alive with scuttling and fluttering. All because Louis Thompson had brought a lantern to light his party with, he had brought all sorts of things to eat too, and he planned to sleep all night in the woods and fields, in a tent made of one of his mother's blankets. Of course, Louie couldn't think what was the matter with the woodsfolk, but Tommy Peel's big furry dog, watch, who was with him, new well enough. He sat there with his tongue out, laughing at them. When Ted Kuhn saw watch laughing, he got over being frightened, and then he was curious. He waited out of the pond and came over to look at the little, sputtery flame dancing inside the lantern. Of course, he thought it was a bug. Most everything that hasn't leaves, or fur, or feathers, is a bug to Tatcune. Bugs do themselves up in very funny packages sometimes before they're all through hatching. He put out his handy paw to catch it. Look out, barked watch, let it alone. But he didn't say it before Tad had touched the glass with his little wet claw. Before he could jerk it back, the water began sizzling and he got a bit of a burn. Ow, ow. Owled poor tad, dancing around with his paw in his mouth. It's a buzzer with a hot tail. He meant a paper wasp. Ow, ow, he sobbed. It bit me. So that scared all the woods folk all over again. Dr. Musgraut knew all about the fires that sometimes burn up the marshes, but Tad didn't, because he's always gone to sleep for the winter before they begin.

Nippel Rabbit knew something about them, because Watch tried to explain when he told what was happening to Grand Pop snapping turtle, but nobody ever dreamed Stripe's skunk would understand.. Stripes did know he knew the rules of tents. His people hunted around the camp fires to catch creepy crawly things. He didn't know the difference between Louise Blanket and a real tent, nor between Louis' lantern and a real campfire because he'd never seen them. So he was just as pleased as though this was a real camp. from along he called to his kittens. This is the rule of fires. When the men aren't walking around them, you can lie down three tail lengths from the light and get your whiskers warm. down they they lay. And weren't they just conceded because all the other woods folk had their eyes popped out, staring at them. All this time, Tad was sitting right squash on his bushy tail in the edge of the pond, using all his other three paws to hold the poor burned one in his mouth. Dad coons always thinking he's killed when he's hardly more than must his fur. He made an awful fuss the time Grandpop snapping turtle nipped his tail.

And after all, Grandpop only pulled a couple of hairs out.

Oh wow wow.

Wimpered tad.

Licking his paw between each sniffle. Let's see, let's see," said Dr. Musgrat. He began peering at it in the darkness, way off, away from the lantern. up here by the fire, ciggled watch. It's not hurting stripes. If you don't get too close to its cage, you're alright. It can't jump out and bite you. Now, wasn't that a sensible way to explain about a lantern to the woods folk. Shirley is just a little flame of fire. All shut up safe inside of its glass. Like a goldfish in a bowl. So, tad and dr. Muscat crept up close close, jumping just a little whenever the flame danced, and peaked at the poor, burned paw. It had just the tiniest, winiest little burn on it. When Dad saw how very little it was, he felt quite cheerful again and forgot all about it. Indeed he was more curious than ever about the lantern. Where did Louis catch it? He wanted to know, what does it eat? Doesn't it ever run wild at all? Sometimes, said watch, with a little shiver, then it grows very fast and needs up everything it can reach.

I've seen a little bit of a fire, eat up a whole haystack, and about the time it takes to see the sunset. But men are very, very careful not to let it get out if they can possibly help it. They keep it in strong black cages. He meant stoves of course, and feed it cold black stones. That was cool you know. Or they keep it in a cave and feed it a bit of wood. Watch meant an open grate. It spits and sputters and sometimes a little piece jumps out, but someone always catches it. And they keep a lot of little cages like this and feed it water with a funny smell. That's lamps burning kerosene. But you couldn't expect the woodsfolk to believe such things. Now, Louis brought that lantern to the pond just to light up his feast because there wasn't any moonlight, but he did much better than that, or worse, according as you look at it. For, by the time the woodsfolk had learned a few things about it. The buzzwings came to learn about it too. Especially some great big, Shelley-winged beetles. And wasn't it nice? Most everybody there, except nibble rabbits' family and Dr. Musgratt, loved to eat them. As soon as they saw the light, a whole flock of these fellows came over from the pond to investigate it over by Louise Tent, the little skunks were trying to catch them.

They couldn't eat another one, but they thought it was fun to jump up and bat them. The only thing for Louis to do was turn out his light, and then the rest of the buzzwings would go back to the marsh where they belonged. Poof. My.

How dark everything was! Oh, sad, tadcoon, and a sorry voice. He'd killed the light. What did he do that for? It bit me all right, but I didn't want it killed. You see, tad thought the flame was alive. Watch the dog comfort at him. It's only gone dark. Does that quite often? Like the fireflies over in the marsh do when they fold their wings.

But it always shines when he wants it to, unless he forgets to feed it. You know, a lantern won't burn if it hasn't any oil. Watch knew that much, but he was This really most despuzzled as tad.

Inside his blanket tent, Louis was already fast asleep. Chapter 2. Jake J. Carries News.

When Louis' lantern went out, all the woods folks scurry to their holes as fast as they could go. All but watch, Tommy Peel's dog, who curled up just outside Louis's blanket tent and went to sleep with one ear open, and Jake the J. Poor Jake, who was in a bad way, it was easy enough to fly over to the feast while the lantern was lit. But now, in the black dark, it couldn't get home. He tried to fly, but he hit a tree. I can't risk that again. He thought to himself. Wonder where I am. What's more, I wonder where those bad little owls are. He began tiptoeing around the trunk of the tree. First thing he knew, his foot found a woodpecker hole, and he popped without stopping to think. Ah, he chuckled. This is lucky. Mustiness, though. I must He's tap Woodpecker about his housekeeping.

Whatever his sis I'm stepping on. He scratched around, feeling carefully with his bird claws. Then his feathers fluffed out in surprise. on great acorns. He gasped. It isn't tap's nest at all anymore. I'm in the hole in the dead hickory. He had a right to be surprised and concerned. He was in the little owl's own hole. There was a soft flutter just outside. He held his sharp beak ready for a fight, but he didn't stir. He didn't even breathe for quite a while. Nothing happened. It's a strangest thing he thought. I should think this place smells awlier than it does. Yes, and there's mouse bones here too, and they're old. I wonder. Right then, a whispering interrupted him. It certainly was those owls. What did you get? Said one.

I've got a mouse. A pretty good one too. More fool you," said the other. We could have cleaned up all those beetles who were lying around. And then you had a mouse, a piece, if you haven't grabbed that one right off. He squeaked, and now that dog is on the lookout for us. Jake guessed the mice had come out to pick up what the woods folk left near Louis's blanket tent.

Where watch the dog was asleep with one ear open and the owls found them. Go get one for yourself," said one of the owls, rudely. I can't wind the other one.

Check, guess. of the owls, roadily. I can't wind the other one. Check-gast it was the he-owl. I'm scared of that dog. He moved when your mouse squeaked. I'd have had one too if you hadn't been so greedy. Oh, here then. Now get another easy enough. That dog can't catch me. Snaped his wife, clicking her beak. But this thing has got to stop. We can't be bothered with dogs and boys and everything right here on our hunting ground. How can we help it? I'm gonna go find Killer the Weasel. That's what the mice ought to have done. He wouldn't catch any more mice than Stripe Skunk and Tat Koon Do between them. And if he settled here, I can just tell you, everybody else would have to move away. He's the one to bring. So would we protested, Mr. Owl? You can't nest with him anywhere about. He can climb like chatter squirrel. Well, how much nesting did we do this year anyway? She snarled back. After those nasty jays pulled out all our feathers when they caught us in the brush pile, we couldn't hunt enough to lay eggs, let alone raise a family. Suddenly, the he-owl put up his beak and sniffed. I smell smell feathers,' said he. "'You haven't been catching any birds, have you?' "'I'm sure it's feathers I've been noticing for the longest while.' "'Just suppose you stop plaguing me about that seagull,' snapped his wife. I liked them, even if you don't. It was a good half a hatching ago that I caught her. You're still yapping about it. The old ones never found out about it. Luckily they didn't. He said, they'd have shouted it all over the marsh. It's no use having the birds picking on us, I'll tell you. We have troubles enough without it. Now that I've got a full set of feathers growing in, I mean to keep them. This flying about without my tail is no fun. He was so full of his troubles, he forgot all about what he had smelled. Now you say you're going to bring that weasel into these woods and fields. That'll make the most trouble of all. He won't do any more good than silver tip the fox, nor sly foot the mink, and they were a whole lot safer for us. They didn't climb. Why? His very mate can't trust him. He said this in a very shocked voice because he was just a little bit afraid of his own wife. Tith and toenails. She squawked. What are you thinking? I don't expect to do any of the trusting. I'll leave it all to that skunk who's even afraid of Bob White quail. And that sly, slippery clawed, tadcoon. And that honey-whiskered, nipple rabbit. They want to make friends, do they? I'll show them a new friend all right enough. That weasel will take care of them. And just so long as he keeps away from the barns, the men won't bother to come after him. Jake J. heard every last word. Then he heard one of the owls flit away, but the sound was so faint he couldn't tell whether the other had gone too. He began to move very carefully, but just the least scratch of his wings caught the ear of that little heowl who was still sitting on the limb outside. He clawed over toward the hole.

Jake could hear him sniff. Now he'd look into it and see, but the little owl never looked because he was distracted by his wife, who was just outside of Louis Thompson's tent and making a racket. He flapped his wings noisily because he was too excited to fly in proper owl fashion. he flew to help his mate. And that smart chick J did the cleverest thing. He flew right after the owl. He knew that the owl hole wasn't any place to hide in, and he knew he couldn't find his way home in the dark. And the only way he could find watch was to follow the owl.

It wasn't any good for Jake to fly quietly.

His wings were so must-stop he couldn't, anyway, from being in the owl den.

And he couldn't dodge in and out of the twigs because he couldn't see them as plainly as the little owl. All he could do was to follow the sound and be ready to dodge if the bad little bird took it into his head to pounce at him. But the owl wasn't thinking about anything in the world but his mate. He really didn't love her even if they quarreled. And he really meant to fight for her as bravely as he ever knew how. But he didn't have to. For she came to meet him, squawking between each flop so wildly that she flew right past him and all but collided with

Jake, who was following close on his stubby tail.

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