BY THE WAYSIDE 
35 
The 13th of May was a most exciting day 
The willow tree at the back door seemed to be 
filled with the most brilliant bits of 
color, some clear black and white strip¬ 
ed like a zebra, some black with yel¬ 
low spots, some yellow with black spots, 
some with hoods and some witli masks. 
Work was suspended. The entire family, 
convening to a small window in an upper cham¬ 
ber, all lost in wonder and amazement, incap¬ 
able of identifying them from a book, fearing 
every minute would be the last of them, the 
“lady from Philadelphia” suggested that an ex¬ 
pert from the Eugene Field School be sent for. 
With her aid we were able to identify the 
following: Black-throated green warbler, 
blackburnian warbler, chestnut-sided war¬ 
bler, black poll warbler, Wilson’s warbler, yel¬ 
low warbler, black and white warbler, also the 
leart fly-catcher, a grosbeak and a wood thrush. 
So began our acquaintance with th'e warb¬ 
lers. The Canadian warbler, yellow-rumped 
warbler, and black-throated blue warbler, have 
since been identified in the same tree, also the 
golden-crowned kinglet, martin, junco, yellow¬ 
billed cuckoo, goldfinch and two owls. 
A small wooden tray 6x4x1 inch made by- 
this same six year old boy, and set outside on 
a window-sill, filled every morning with food, 
has brought the winter birds to our window, 
chickadees, nuthatches and downy woodpeck¬ 
ers. Last winter they ate from this tray 12 
pounds of sun flower seed, 2 pounds of hemp- 
seed, and many pounds of suet. 
Many other birds than the ones herein nam¬ 
ed have been identified in other places, but this 
narrative is strictly confined to one small lot 
in Roger’s Park. , 
So, led by little child, some of the wonders 
and beauties, with which the All-Father has 
surrounded us, have been revealed. 
Mrs. D. W. Redfield. 
Rogers Park, Ill. 
WHAT OLD BIDDY ADOPTED INSTEAD 
OF CHICKENS. 
Old Biddy had made several efforts in rais¬ 
ing a family, but after all her endeavors no 
chicks came forth to satisfy her motherly 
heart. 
Finally, old Puss came into the barrel where 
Biddy had brooded so many months and shel¬ 
tered there her family of little kittens. 
Old Biddy became foster-mother to the kit¬ 
tens. She protected them under her warm 
feathers and shielded them from all danger. 
Gusta, Pussy’s little mistress, made several 
attempts in gaining the friendship of the kit¬ 
tens, but old Biddy with her fierce clucking and 
spreading of wings would not allow any inti¬ 
macy with the family. 
Old Puss alone was allowed to make occa¬ 
sional visits to feed h'er little ones. 
It was only by the cruel interruption of the 
man that took the kittens to the watery grave 
that the peace of the family life was ended 
and Biddy was again left in dispair. S. S. 
Within the past few days there has been 
built one of the neatest and cosiest little 
homes within the village limits, for which the 
village board has issued no building permit. 
The house is built a short distance south and 
exactly in front of the electric power house. 
It stands very close to the Peabody Creek. It 
is two stories high', having a peaked roof and 
slanting sides. The house is built of a peculiar 
composition and is the only one of that ma¬ 
terial within the village limits. There are no 
windows in this cosy little home, but two 
doorways lead to the outer world. 
The only person who has watched the swift 
progress of the erection of this tiny little 
home is Supt. C. W. Eggleston who will kindly 
point out to you the location in the willows of 
the winter dwelling place of two very cute, 
very sleek brown coated little muskrats. 
—Guy O. Glazier, in Dells Reporter. 
THE SONG SPARROW. 
LaCrosse, Wis., April, 1904. 
Dear Wayside:—The song sparrow was rath¬ 
er late to make its apearance in this vicinity 
this year. It was not until the 27th of March, 
that, while strolling along a railroad track, I 
heard the announcement of his arrival. When 
I first found him he was diligently scratching 
among the dry leaves in search of insects. He 
then flew to the top of a small bush, where he 
raised his little head skyward, bulged out his 
throat, and then poured forth his sweetest 
melody of song. After he had finished his 
song, he flew silently into the thicket, where 
he began his endless search for food again. 
These birds have the peculiarity of pumping 
their tails as they fly, which adds greatly to 
the velocity of th'eir flight. 
Yours truly, 
Isador Rehfuss. 
