w*rw 
BY THE WAYSIDE 
OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE WISCONSIN AND ILLINOIS AUDUBON SOCIETIES 
One Year, 25 Cents Illinois Number One Year, 25 Cents 
Published by the Wisconsin Audubon Society. 
Entered January 27, 190J, at Milwaukee, Wis., as second-class matter, under Act of Congress of March j, 1879. 
VOL. VI. MAY, 1903 No. 1 
Hay Song. 
Is there anything new to sing about you, 
May, my dear? 
Any unhackneyed thing about you ; 
Pray, my dear ? 
Anything that has not been sung 
Long ago when the world was young 
By silver throat and golden tongue? 
Say, my dear! 
So many have said that your eyes are blue, 
May, my dear; 
It must be a tiresome fact though true. 
May, my dear. 
And if I for one, my gracious Queen, 
Should boldly assert that your eyes were 
green, 
^T would be a relief to you, I ween, 
Eh, my dear? 
Me know at the touch of your garment’s fold, 
May, my dear, 
The daisies come starring with white and gold 
The way, my dear. 
We know that the painted blossoms all 
Come starting up at your gentle call, 
By dale and meadow and garden-wall, 
May, my dear. 
Me know that your birds have the sweetest 
tune, 
May, my dear; 
And lovers love best beneath your moon, 
They say, my dear. 
And I might add that your perfumed kiss 
Is considered productive of highest bliss, 
But you must be so tired of hearing this! 
Eh, my dear? 
And yet I cannot help loving you so, 
May, my dear, 
That the old words whether I will or no, 
I say, my dear, 
And how you are fair and how you are sweet, 
My loving lips forever repeat.— 
And is that the reason you pass so fleet? 
Ah! Stay, my dear! 
Laura E. Richards, in St. Nicholas. 
Bravery half the Battle. 
There was once a wise old goat. One day 
he took refuge from a storm by running into 
the first cave he saw. It proved an excellent 
shelter, but it belonged to a lion; and soon 
the goat heard the lion coming home. 
“Aha!” remarked William Goat to himself, 
“this is a place where wit is of more use than 
sharp horns!” And when the lion came in, he 
found the goat calmly stroking his beard. 
“How very lucky!” exclaimed old William, 
just as the lion was about to spring upon him. 
“Lucky?” said Leo, stopping half-way, “for 
me you mean?” 
“Not at all,” answered William. “I mean 
for myself. It is my business to hunt lions.” 
“I never heard of such a thing!” answered 
the lion, laughing scornfully. 
“Very likely not,” replied the goat. “But 
then I'm not an ordinary goat. I am the lion- 
hunting kind. We are rare, but there are a 
few of us still left. I made a vow that I 
would kill ten lions this week, but they are 
scarce, and so far I have slain only five. You 
will be the sixth.” 
So saving he lowered his head and charged 
the lion with pretended ferocity. Not ex¬ 
pecting the attack, the lion turned and ran 
out. 
No sooner was William the goat sure that 
the lion was at a distance, than he started off 
too, but in another direction. 
Meanwhile, Leo met a jackal, and told him 
about the story the goat had made up. 
“What nonsense!” said the jackal, bursting 
into a roar of laughter. “Why, I know old 
