BY THE WAYSIDE 
19 
»• 
the national waterfowl, increased educa¬ 
tional and other branches of our work. 
I expect to report a deficit ofsome $12,000 
on this account at our annual meeting 
this month. The National Association 
of Audubon societies is planning more 
extended usefulness than ever for next 
year, however, and is relying for support 
upon its friends and members, more of 
whom it ver}' much needs .”—The North¬ 
western. 
A Bird Restaurant. 
It was a cold, cloudy, winter’s day, and 
the invalid looked listlessly out on the 
dreary landscape, with a weary longing 
for the bright, beautiful spring, its birds 
and flowers, when a loud chirping at¬ 
tracted her attention. Two sparrows 
underneath the window were picking 
eagerly at something they had found, 
sturdy fat fellows in their thick, winter’s 
garb of brownish gray; but alas, on ac¬ 
count of a wicked law, feathered outlaws 
for three months, with a price set upon 
their small heads. 
“Oh,” she said, “You dear sweet birds, 
innocent of all wrong, but with no place 
to flee, safe from man’s cruel hand, here 
during this winter you shall live, pro¬ 
tected, and cared for.” 
She began that morning what the chil¬ 
dren called “a bird’s restaurant” by plac¬ 
ing food on the window sill, and under 
the old peach tree that guarded her win¬ 
dow. 
The sparrows soon learned to expect 
their breakfast, and often came, almost 
before light, and tapped on the window 
with their little black bills, to tell in 
their sweet, bird calls, how hungry they 
were. 
They also told others of the new res¬ 
taurant, for soon fifteen sparrows were 
enjoying their friend’s hospitality. One 
morning a blue jay’s petulant screams 
were heard mingled with the sparrows’ 
rapid scolding, and among the feathered 
group was a “little boy in blue” taking 
much more than his share of breakfast. 
The next day large crumbs of bread and 
corn were thrown out with the other food, 
and the blue jay again made his appear¬ 
ance, and picked up the corn hastily, 
always flying into the tree to eat, perhaps 
to be away from the sparrows, or it may 
have been from his manner of eating, as 
he held the corn in his claw, and broke 
it in pieces by savage thrusts of his strong 
bill. 
The next time he came, he brought a 
relative or friend, and they gobbled up 
the corn and large crumbs; some they 
ate, but a great deal they carried to the 
bank of earth and straw, covering the 
celery. It was curious to watch them 
dig a place, by thick thrusts of their bills 
and push the food in. Whether they 
remembered where it was, and ate it at 
some future time, the watcher never 
discovered. 
A bit of bright scarlet flashed in the 
sunlight one morning, among the blue 
and gray. A gorgeous cardinal grosbeak 
had joined the invalid’s pensioners. At 
first there seemed another slight disa¬ 
greement, but soon all was harmonious, 
and the blue jays, red birds, and sparrows 
atr quietly together in their restaurant, 
which was kept open until warm weather. 
To the invalid’s delight the little “bird 
restaurant” helped the long, dreary win¬ 
ter to pass quickly and merrily, and when 
spring came, she rejoiced to feel that she 
had saved from hunger, or cruel death, 
some of our dear feathered friends. 
—Miss Haskell. 
