38 
BY THE WAYSIDE 
If on one hand the green appears, 
Starboard your wheel and you’ll clear. 
If on your port tack you do steer, 
It is your duty to keep clear 
Of every light you see ahead, 
No matter whether green or red. 
But green to green or red to red 
Is perfect safety—Go ahead!” 
What do you suppose two little humming 
birds, with all their ‘‘green and red” flashing 
in the' sunlight, do when they meet each other 
on their sails through the air? Well, the next 
time we went to Great Duck, we had more time, 
and the keeper of the light-house, Mr. Stanley, 
who is the warden who looks after our friends 
the culls, took me down on the rocks and 
showed me their nests. Such uncomfortable 
little cradles for gull babies as they looked! 
If the mother gulls didn’t have such soft feath¬ 
ers and did not take very good care of their 
eggs, I am sure they would be all smashed to 
little bits long before they were hatched. 
How I wish' I could show you the picture I 
saw that day. Far away we could see the 
beautiful Mt. Desert mountains and nearer at 
hand the smaller islands. The sea stretching 
far away and the rocky shore where we stood, 
and then, all above and around, the hundreds 
of gulls: in the trees, on the water and rocks, 
and flying through the air; the old ones, 
white and gray, and the darker young ones. 
Mr. Stanley told me the old birds taught the 
young ones many things, and spoke of the cry 
of warning they give when there is danger. 
He told of one instance when the mother bird 
gave the cry as she flew past a young one 
perched in a tree; the young one did not stir. 
Again she flew by it, uttering the cry more 
loudly. Again the young one did not stir. 
The third time she flew past giving the cry, 
and this time she struck the young one sharp¬ 
ly with' her wing as if she said, “Do you under¬ 
stand me now?” and this time the stupid little 
fellow did understand and off he flew. 
Well, there are ever so many things I would 
like to tell you about, but I’m sure the editor 
will think I am trying to write you a book in¬ 
stead of a letter. 
I am hoping some of you will send us some 
letters telling what you have seen this sum¬ 
mer. I shall be quite disappointed if I don’t 
have to give a book to some Illinois child for 
writing a good letter about taking caie of 
birds. 
Cordially your friend, 
Mary Drummond, 
Secy, for Illinois 
ILLINOIS PRIZE LETTER. 
Chicago, Oct. 31, 1904. 
Dear Wayside: 
I go the the Julia Ward Howe School. I am 
9 years old. I would like to tell wou about 
two little sparrows that built their nests in 
the eaves of our porch. They were bound they 
were going to build a nest. First they would 
bring some straw, then they would bring some 
grass and feathers. When they would bring 
these things we would pull it down because 
they were such a bother. We pulled it down 
ten times. But finally they got their nests 
built, so we let it stay. So they hatched their 
eggs and went away. I must close. 
Yours truly, 
Lowell Gildner. 
WISCONSIN PRIZE LETTER. 
The Robin’s Nest. 
The fire escape comes down from the room 
up above our. There is a place about four feet 
from the steps with a railing along it that 
eomes out under the window. Under this plat¬ 
form about one foot and a half is a ridge about 
three inches wide. A robin built a nest there. 
Two or three days after, we looked out and 
we saw one little light blue egg. Two morn¬ 
ings after there were two more. 
The next morning the robin was sitting on 
the nest. We did not go near there for a few 
days. One morning when I came into the school¬ 
room, all the girls were looking out of the 
window. I went down and I asked what was 
the matter. One of the girls told me that 
there were three little birds in the nest, and 
when I looked all I could see was three big 
mouths. When we made a little noise they 
would open their mouths. They were not pret¬ 
ty, for they had not a feather on them, and 
it seemed as if they were all mouths. In a day 
or two they had a little soft down on them 
and in about a week they were covered with 
fathers. The mother was very proud of them. 
But one morning we were very much disap¬ 
pointed to see the nest empty. We knew they 
