64 
BY THE WAYSIDE 
the robin had pulled out of the cat. The 
mother robin flew back to her nest an .1 
stayed there all night. The little robins’ 
wings were yet too weak too fly and they 
remained in the nest a long time. But 
when they grew strong the mother taught 
them how to fly. At first they only flew 
a short distance, but later on they found 
their breasts were no longer speckled 
but a clear red. Soon winter came on 
with colder weather, and the nest grew 
small. So these robins flew away to the 
south where it would be warm the year 
round. I hope they will come back 
again this spring. Yours truly, 
Acred 12. Laura Nehls. 
Appleton, Wisconsin. 
Dear Wavside: 
Early one beautiful warm spring morn¬ 
ing I heard a bird singing. I looked 
out of the window and found out that it 
was a robin. He was singing a very 
pretty song. 
Robins are one of our earliest birds to 
appear in spring. They come back from 
the south the latter part of March or the 
first part of April. . They begin to build 
their nests about the fifteenth of April or 
later. They build their nest very care¬ 
fully. They make it out of straw, string 
and other things and plaster it with mud. 
These robins built theirs in a large oak 
tree. It was some time after they had 
their nest finished that they had four 
little young ones. They took very good 
care of them. The mother went back 
and forth for a long time finding food for 
the little ones. It did not take very long 
before they knew how to fly. They flew 
back and forth on the small branches 
near their nest. After they had learned 
how to fly well they flew longer distances. 
They soon learned how to take care of 
themselves and then went out in the 
wide world. Irene Reinke. 
Continued from page 60. 
It would tax the skill of Chicago’s best 
society reporter to give all the names 
and costumes at such a '‘function” as 
this. But that is just what the bird- 
break fasters try to do. 
For two or three happy hours every¬ 
body wades through the dewy grass, 
skulks under bushes, crawls gingerly be¬ 
tween barbed wires, tiptoes across the 
brook on wabbly stones, and pokes his 
field glasses into every bush and tree. 
One enthusiastic member, who is said to 
have put on his best trousers by mistake 
in the darkness of early morning, is also 
said to have waded into a swamp to stir 
out a sora rail. He found the rail. It 
is a hungry but enthusiastic company 
that rounds up for the trip home. 
You didn’t suppose that was the end 
of the meeting, did you? 
Bird-breakfast Club meetings don't 
end that way. Back at the four o’clock 
end, the place of the gathering, of coffee 
and sandwiches, there is a large breakfast 
table groaning with good things. A gen¬ 
erous menu card offers a choice between 
shredded wheat biscuit and baled hay, 
grape nuts and gravel, toasted corn flakes 
and chopped corn husks. Or you can 
pass at once to the hot hash, stuffed eggs 
(hen’s eggs, not birds’) warm biscuit, 
with honey, sliced pineapple, etc , etc. 
The Bird-breakfast Club has no roll, 
but a counting of noses about the break¬ 
fast table: only one class of members, the 
very active ones in the field and at the 
table; and no officers but the volunteer 
leader and the provider of the next 
breakfast. F .E. Sanford. 
