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OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE WISCONSIN AND ILLINOIS AUDUBON SOCIETIES 
One Year 25 Cents 
WISCONSIN NUMBER 
Single Copy 3 Cent»s 
Published by the Wisconsin Audubon Society, at. Applet>on Wisconsin. 
Entered as second-class matter May 16, 1904 at Appleton, Wis., under the act of congress of Mar. 3, ’79 
VOL. VII 
MARCH, 1905 
No. 9 
A WINTER SCENE. 
(Written for The Wayside.) 
When wintry winds sweep o'er the lea 
And whistle through the forest drear, 
The flying sonw flakes in their glee, 
Spread a soft white mantle far and near. 
But swaying in the apple tree 
The little bird we love so dear 
A chering note from dainty throat, 
Of darling little chick-a-dee. 
The merry March winds laugh and play 
O’er snowy ice-bound lake and stream, 
The skies are blue, the sun’s bright ray 
Through fairy frost flowers give glint and 
gleam 
See! perching on a bending spray 
The saus y bird—so few esteem—- 
So pert and bright, a charming sight, 
A jolly blithsome Connie bluejay. 
Flora E. Kendall, 
Westfield, Wis. 
IN AN ENGLISH GARDEN. 
Anthony looked around. 
A moment ago there had not been a bird 
in sight (though of course, the day was thrid- 
ded through and through with the notes of 
those who were out of sight). But now, in 
the path before the arbour, all facing to¬ 
wards it, there must have been a score of birds 
—three or four sparrows, a pair of chaflincelis, 
and then green finches, green finches, green 
finches. They were all facing expectantly to¬ 
wards the arbour, hopping towards it, hesita¬ 
ting, hopping on again, coming nearer, near¬ 
er. 
Susanna, moving softly ,lifted the dragon- 
handled cover from the Chinese vase. It 
was full of bird seed. 
“Ah, I see,” said Anthony. “Pensioners. 
But I suppose you have reflected that to 
give alms to the able-bodied is to pauperize 
them.” 
“Hush,” ‘she whispered, scorning his econ¬ 
omics. “Please make yourself invisible, and be 
quiet.” 
Then, taking a handful of seed and lean¬ 
ing forward, softly, softly she began to in¬ 
tone— 
Tu-ite, tu-ite, 
Uccelli, fringuelli, 
Passeri, verdonelli, 
Venite, venite!” 
and so, da capo, over and over again. 
And the birds ,hesitating, gaining confidence, 
holding back, hopping on, came nearer, near¬ 
er. A few, the boldest, entered the arbour— 
they all entered—they hesitated, hung back, 
hopped on. Now they were at her feet; now 
three were in her lap; others were on the 
table. On the table, in her lap, at her feet, 
she scattered seed. Then she took a second 
handful, and softly, softly, to a sort of lulla¬ 
by tune, 
“Perlino, Perlino, 
Perlino, Prismi no, 
"Where is Perlino ? 
Come Perlino,” 
she sang, her open hand extended. 
A green finch flew up to the table, flew 
down to her knee, flew up to her shoulder, 
flew down to her hand, and, perching on 
her thumb ,began to feed. 
And she went on with 1 her soft, soft, in¬ 
toning. 
“This is Perlino, 
So green, oh, so green, oh. 
He is the bravest heart, 
The sweetest singer, of them all. 
I’m obliged to impart my information 
In the form of a chant ; 
For if I were to speak it out, prose- 
wise, 
They would be frightened, they would 
fly away. 
