BY THE WAYSIDE 
62 
Illinois Prize Letter. 
Dear Wayside: v 
One evening last summer the farmer 
with whom we were boarding in Wiscon¬ 
sin told me he had found a bird’s nest 
while out “haying.” His horse had 
nearly stepped on it. When I went to 
see it. to my surprise it was built on the 
ground. It was not near trees, shrubs or 
vines, right out in the open grain field. 
After cutting the grain from around it 
the good farmer had placed some on top 
to protect it from rain and sun. There 
were five eggs in the nest. They were 
light brown. It was the nest of aground 
bird. I went every day to see if the 
e^<r S had hatched. On the third they 
hatched. Their eyes were not open, to 
my advantage, for I could give them 
bread day and night and tend to them 
carefully. I did not know how to whistle. 
All I would say was pep, pep, pep. At 
the first note all would open their mouths 
as wide as possible. I used to see the 
mother but she knew [ would not hurt 
her babies but give them food. It was 
the night I left for Chicago. I went to 
bid the birds good-bv. Two were gone 
and the other three lay stretched out on 
the ground. I laid them carefully in the 
nest and went back to the farm house, 
hoping the mother was taking them for 
an outing and would soon be back, but 
next morning they were all gone. I fear 
some cruel animal had taken them. 
Aged 10. Serena V. Rawlins. 
Chicago, Ill. 
Mauston, Wis., June 6 
Dear Wayside: 
Last Saturday afternoon I saw a flock 
of goldfinches and this morning when I 
was coming to school I saw another flock 
of goldfinches. They had such a pretty 
yellow on them. I also saw a Baltimore 
oriole on one of our plum trees. I went 
out to look at it, and it flew away. This 
morning in school time a limb broke off* 
of a tree and fell to the ground. It had 
a flicker’s nest in it. The limb fell so 
that the flicker’s nest was upside down. 
My teacher sent some of the boys out to 
stand the limb up against the tree. 
Then the janitor went and put the little 
flickers in a hollow hole in a tree so they 
wouldn’t get hurt. But the flicker never 
came back to her young ones and the little 
flickers died. They must have starved. 
Yours truly, 
Aged 12. Laura Wermuth. 
Mazomanie, Wis. 
Dear Wayside: 
One morning as I awoke I heard a bird 
singing. I got up and dressing myself 
went out to look what bird it was. I 
looked around and perched on the high¬ 
est branch of a maple tree a robin sing¬ 
ing away with all his might. The very 
same robin had a nest in our pine tree 
and he would sing early in the morning 
to greet his mate. When the little birds 
were hatched vou would see the robin 
%/ 
bringing food to them. When the birds 
were old enough to fly it was nearly time 
for them to go south. 
Yours trulv, 
•/ • 
Aged 11. Mabel Schumann. 
Cross Plains, Wis. 
Dear Wayside: 
The catbird is a pretty bird. It sings 
for a long time without stopping. But 
if he is in danger or on a rainy day he 
