B Y THE WA YSIDE 
74 
An Interview. 
Mi. R. Redbreast, one of our most 
prominent and best known citizens, re¬ 
turned from his winter home, March 22. 
Knowing that his many friends of the 
Wayside would be glad to hear of his 
travels we sent a reporter out to interview 
him. 
ft- \ 
Mr. Redbreast spent his winter in 
Florida. He reports a very enjoyable 
season. Mrs. Redbreast has not arrived 
yet. She is not expected for four or 
five days. Mr. Redbreast reports the 
weather in Florida as of the finest and 
the berry crop as the best in years. He 
consideis Florida as an ideal winter re¬ 
sort in many ways. “It is too bad that 
the people do not think more of you,” 
j the reporter. “On the contrary, 
that is the only objection we have to the 
South” was the reply. Mr. Redbreast 
was decidedly ruffled and the reporter 
hastened to change the subject. “Isn't 
this a little early? We are- apt to have 
some severe storms before spring opens.” 
: “Yes, it is early,” said Mr. Redbreast 
: thoughtfully, “and no doubt we will have 
some more cold weather. But what can 
one do? If you wait till later all the 
houses will be taken. Then it is no 
small job to raise a family of voung 
robins. And later in the year when the 
ground gets hard and dry it is much 
more difficult to get worms. Do you 
know that my young ones last summer 
ite more than their weight in worms 
"Very day? For myself I can get along 
>n berries if I have to. But young ones 
oust have worms. Then many people 
;eem so peevish about their fruit, ft al- 
nost makes one feel as if he was regarded 
1 lS a thief. Now I am sure that I earn 
nore than I take in the protection I give 
he garden from cut worms. Last sum¬ 
mer the only time I could gather berries 
m comfort was early in the morning be¬ 
fore the family were stirring. And that 
is the time of day I should be after 
worms.” 
“Where will you build this year?” 
That is a matter that can’t be settled till 
Mrs. Redbreast gets here. We liked the 
appie tree back of the garden where we 
were last year fairly well. But it is 
rather low and I understand that the 
family have a cat now. Why wi H people 
keep cats?” Mr. Redbreast was working 
toward another pitch of indignation and 
the reporter intervened. “Shall I tell 
them you are glad to get back?” “Of 
course I am glad to get back. This is 
my home. I was born here and from 
here our nestlings started out on their 
promising young lives. Mrs. Redbreast 
and I were saying just before I left that 
it would hardly seem possible to raise a 
family elsewhere.” Here Mr. Redbreast 
changed his branch rather restlessly and 
the reporter, taking this for a “hint, 
politely took his leave. “Say,” called 
Mr. Redbreast alter him, “vou aren’t go- 
ing to put all that stuff in the paper, are * 
vou?” 
The Oven Bird . 
In the days of spring migrations, 
Days when nesting birds move northward 
to the forests, to the leaf beds, 
Comes the tiny oven builder. 
Daintily the dead leaves lifting 
Underneath them builds his oven 
Arched and framed with last v ear’s oak 
leaves, 
Hoofed and walled against the raindrops. 
Hour by hour his voice he raises 
Heach us! teach us!” is his asking 
Heach us! teach us!” eomes responsive 
from the solemn listening forest. 
—Frank Holies. 
