BY THE WAYSIDE 
OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE WISCONSIN AND ILLINOIS AUDUBON SOCIETIES 
ne Year, 25 Cents Price Three Cents One Year, 25 Cents 
Published by the Wisconsin Audubon Society- 
Entered January 27, 1903, at Milwaukee, Wis., as second-class matter, under Act of Congress of March 3, 187Q. 
OL. VI. MAY, 1904 No. 12 
Said the Rose to the Pink. 
Do you see that child who is coming this 
way?” 
I Said the Rose to the Pink; 
What can it be that makes her so gay— 
What do you think?” 
’Tis the frock that she wears, as I believe,” 
Said the Pink to the Rose; 
A pretty frock, as you can perceive, 
Wherever it grows.” 
I think she is proud that her eyes are blue,” 
Said the Rose to the Pink; 
f For a prettier frock she can see on you, 
Or me, as I think.” 
[ Perhaps she is glad because we are here,” 
Said the Pink to the Rose; 
Let us smile our brightest on her, my dear, 
Before she goes.” 
-—From St. Nicholas. 
Pit«a=Pat. 
That story about Mintzie, in the December 
/ayside, made me think of our old cat, Pit-a- 
( at. Not because they were alike,—not much! 
it-a-pat was pretty enough, with tigery 
-ripes, and big yellow eyes, but she hadn't as 
luch sense in her whole body as Mintzie had 
1 the end of her tail. She was Clara’s cat 
nd Clara always defended her until this time 
lat I am going to tell you about. 
One day Pit-a-pat did not come to dinner 
id Clara went down cellar to look for her. 
[ retty soon she came up saying, “I believe that 
it has kittens under the kitchen floor!” 1 
ent down with her, and sure enough, if you 
it your ear to a hole in the plastering where 
pipe went through you heard all sorts of 
irrings and soft little mewings. It wasn’t 
1 easy place to stretch up to, it was so high, 
id you had to stand on a wood pile that was 
always sliding out from under your feet. I 
stuck my arm in—the hole was just big enough 
for that—but couldn’t reach the cats. 
Now one of Pit-a-pat’s queer ways was to 
desert her kittens when they were two weeks 
old. This did not make much difference when 
they were born in a reachable place, because 
Clara took care of them, but this time it was 
a. close shave for those youngsters. When 1 
came home from school one day Clara met me 
looking desperate. 
“Tommy,” she said, “you’ve got to help me. 
Pit-a-pat has not been near those babies all 
day; she is out in the yard chasing sparrows, 
as if she had not a care in the world. I don’t 
want the grown ups to know—they don’t like 
Pit-a-pat,—but - we must get the kittens out 
or they will starve. 
“All right,” I said. “I’ll rig up a net at the 
end of a stick and fish them out.” 
I couldn’t do it though. The more I fished 
the further back they went. Then Clara tried 
putting her hand in and coaxing them, calling 
them dear little, sweet little kitties, and she 
did get one of them near enough to touch, but 
that was all. We brought Pit-a-pat to the 
hole and thought she would go in, for the kit¬ 
tens were bawling with hunger, but she clawed 
and scratched like fury and we had to let her 
go. At six o’clock we went up stairs to din¬ 
ner and then Clara told what had happened. 
Papa laughed, and said that Pit-a-pat was a 
degenerate, and an unnatural mother, but 
Mamma promised to help. So at seven we went 
down again and Mamma climbed on to the 
wood pile and stuck her hand in and then she 
began to pretend that she was a mother cat. 
You would not believe she could do it so well! 
First she purred a long time and then she 
made all sorts of funny little noises, the way 
a cat talks to her kittens. It was a dreadfully 
uncomfortable position, for her feet kept slip¬ 
ping, but she never stopped her whisperings 
and mewings and purrings, and at just half- 
