BY THE WAYSIDE 
15 
Appleton, Wis., May 27, 1908. 
Dear Wayside: 
One morninglast April I looked out of 
the window, and there in one of the 
maple trees in front of our house I saw 
a bluejay trying to chase a robin out of 
his nest in the tree. The robins had 
already built their nest, and in the nest 
were four pretty blue eggs. I watched 
I the birds for a long time, and finally the 
a robin succeeded in chasing the blqejay 
awav. Many mornings after this the 
bluejay would come and bother the robin 
and his family, but the robin always 
succeeded in chasing him away. One 
morning as I looked for the birds I found 
that the robin and his family had flown 
away. I think they were glad to get 
away from the bluejays. 
Yours truly, 
Aged 13. Marie Gleisner. 
Mavwood, Ill. 
•/ * 
Dear Wayside: 
The Indigo Bunting is 5f inches long. 
Its head is dark blue while its body is a 
lighter blue. Its wings are tinged with 
light green. The Indigo Bunting sits on 
the topmost branch of a tree and sings 
its song. It comes in May and goes in 
September. Its mate is brown. The In¬ 
digo Bunting is in the same family as the 
J sparrow. 
Aged 9. Guy E. Savage. 
— 
- 
Julius Caesar. 
Jennie had come to visit with her 
cousin Ruth, who was kept in the house 
hv a severe cold, and the two were bus¬ 
ily repairing the wardrobe of a large 
family of dolls, when Ruth suddenly 
said, 
“I’m tired sewing, lets ask grandmoth- 
} er to tell a story about the time* when 
j she was a young girl and lived in the 
wilderness.” 
“All right,” answered Jennie, “I’ve 
finished this dress, and am tired too.” 
Grandmother’s father left Boston when 
she was only six years old, and took his 
family the long, eighteen day’s journey 
to far off Illinois; as there were no rail¬ 
roads then, they went by stage-coach, 
canal, river, and for days in large wagons, 
with thick, white, cloth coverings, drawn 
by either horses, or oxen, and called 
prairie schooners. They made snug 
sleeping places for the mother and child¬ 
ren, were a refuge during storms, and al¬ 
so served as baggage cars for the house¬ 
hold goods Mr. Mav carried with him. 
It was the children’s delight to hear 
grandmother tell of the life of that long 
ago time, and of the queer pets of the 
famity. 
They found her as usual in the cozy 
corner, where the weight of years and ill 
health caused her to spend much of her 
time, reading, or knitting for her wide-a¬ 
wake grandchildren. 
This time she asked, “Would you like 
to hear about Julius Caesar?” 
“Yes indeed,” answered both little 
girls, “who was he?” 
“A gray squirrel, that in felling an old 
walnut tree, my father found among the 
branches. It was a forsaken wretched 
mite, and apparently only breathing; so 
knowing it would perish if left, he 
brought it to mother, who took it as she 
did all helpless dumb creaturers, for she 
—your great-grandmother—felt the right 
to live justly belonged to them, and she 
loved to help in their struggle to keep 
it; but this time all her efforts seemed in 
vain, the little body remained cold, and 
became rigid, while no beating of the tiny 
heart could be discovered. Now, as you 
know our house was on the edge of a 
large grove of forest trees, in which lived 
an immense colony of squirrels, and our 
old white cat (named Niobe on account 
of much weeping for many children.) 
had developed into a famous squirrel 
hunter, and enjoyed a squirrel dinner, 
far better than one of mice, or even the 
dear birds, which, it was impossible to 
prevent her from catching, for all wild 
