Eleven o’clock at night
The owl was all right : I like owls . The place was all right . He had struck the wrong time , that was all . Eleven o'clock at night , when you ca n't see him , and naturally feel that you want to , is the proper time for an owl . Perched on the roof of a cow-shed in the early dawn he looks silly . He clung there , flapping his wings and screeching at the top of his voice . What it was he wanted I am sure I do n't know ; and anyhow it did n't seem the way to get it .