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ON THE APPEARANCE OF THE CUCKOO. 



BY THOMAS FULLGR ; ESQ. 



I am very much inclined to question the truth of the statement, which 

 has appeared in some of the north-country papers, to the effect that the 

 notes of the Cuckoo were heard in a field near the village of Cleadon, in 

 the county of Durham, on the 11th. of February last, as communicated 

 by your correspondent, Mr. Barrington Cooke. That the weather was ex- 

 tremely mild for the season at that time is true, and it is a very common 

 thing for trout to rise during this month, but the appearance of the Cuckoo 

 in February is indeed a rarity; whether such an uncommon event is more 

 likely to occur in the northern, than in the southern parts of England, I 

 am not prepared to say. We have numerous sheltered valleys in this 

 country, but I do not think the oldest individual living remembers such 

 an instance. 



A few years ago I was deceived myself. It was on a fine day in the 

 early part of March, in a walk towards the village of Southstoke, about 

 three miles from this city; the notes of the Cuckoo, as I then thought, 

 came distinctly upon my ear, and returning home with such conviction, 

 noted the circumstance down in my diary; but upon passing through the 

 village afterwards, and speaking to a farmer on the subject, he laughed, 

 and told me that a boy belonging to the village imitated the note of the 

 Cuckoo so nearly as to deceive anybody not aware of the fact. Now had 

 it so happened that I had left this neighbourhood in the interim, I cer- 

 tainly should have remained under the delusion of having heard the Cuckoo 

 in the early part of March, and published it as truth. 



As for the boys, mischievous as they are everywhere, they appear to be 

 pre-eminently so here; there is no limit to the versatility of their pranks, 

 and their number most certainly is far beyond proportion to the community, 

 according to my observations in other places. One of the rascals attempted 

 a hoax upon me this very morning. In my early walk before breakfast, 

 going through a field, a rosy fellow, carrying milk into the city, met me, 

 putting down his milk-pan, and sitting upon it, — "Don't e hear the Cuckoo?" 

 said he. Being quite unprepared for so interesting a question, I was for 

 the moment deceived, and was just upon giving the best attention, when 

 a wicked twinkle in the rogue's eye, brought to my recollection that it 

 was the first of April; so raising my stick, and flourishing it over his 

 shoulders, I thought to frighten him, but the urchin saw in my countenance 

 nothing to alarm him; one of his companions came up at the moment, and 

 pointing to my feet, ejaculated "Why the gentleman's shoe is untied!" I 

 was again taken off my guard, and looked down at my understandings, the 



