"There is one at that end," said Bobby, pointing toward the west; "and one down there," pointing toward the east.
"If you will set a tall stick in the ground near each one," said Mr. Hill, "I can see where the nests are, and you won't have to stand there."
"All right," said Bobby, and he started toward the house for the sticks.
As he was hunting for them, he remembered his little flags that always stood in the corner of the parlor.
"Why not use the flags to keep the bird's nests safe?" he thought.
So he ran into the parlor, took three of the flags and ran back to the clover field.
In the nest at the western end of the field were four little birds. Bobby pushed one of the sticks into the ground beside it, and the flag floated in the breeze.
Away to the other end of the field he ran, to the nest where there were two little birds. He planted one of the sticks in the ground beside it, and that flag floated in the breeze.
Then he went to the nest where he had stood guard. "You shall have a flag, too," he said.
Farmer Hill kept driving around the field, cutting the clover. But when he came near a flag, he turned out and left a patch of clover standing around the nest.