NOTES ON THE CUCKOO. 61 



may mention that a few days ago, in the middle of the hard weather we 

 have had, I saw one busily engaged in nibbling the haws on a hedge. 

 I came within two yards of him, he having, on seeing me approach, only 

 retired to the thick part of the bush he was in; but on my coming thus 

 close to him he took himself oflF. — F. 0. Morris, February 5th., 1856. 



NOTES ON THE CUCKOO, (CUGULUS GANOItUS.) 



BY J. MC'iNTOSH, ESQ. 



-"There are still in thee, 



Instructive Book of Nature! many leaves 

 Which yet no mortal has perused." 



In addition to what we have already published in the first volume of 

 '^The Naturalist," on the habits of this singular bird, we now beg to lay 

 the following notes before our readers, to shew them that we are not 

 totally unacquainted with the habits and history of Cuculus canorus of 

 Linnseus, and also to shew that testimonials have accumulated in our favour, 

 not only that the female Cuckoo does cry "Cuckoo" but that she on cer- 

 tain occasions does feed her own young, and that they have been observed 

 in this country long after the first week in July ! 



Our first note is from the pen of Mr. John Middlemis, Bentham Hill, 

 Tunbridge Wells, who writes as follows: — ''I am as sure as I am of my 

 own existence, that the female does utter the well-known cry, and also that 

 the Cuckoo does sometimes feed its own young. As proofs of these asser- 

 tions I offer the following: — I have stood within three feet of a Cuckoo 

 while depositing its egg in the nest of the Robin, and I have heard that 

 Cuckoo when she left the nest after depositing her egg utter the pleasing 

 sound "Cuckoo" twice, as distinctly as I ever heard it in my life. I am 

 certain it was the female, as I stood in a cellar where there is a small 

 grated window surrounded with ivy; a Robin had made a nest on the ledge 

 of the window. Happening to be in the cellar one day, and hearing a 

 rustling noise at the window, I went up to it, and saw a Cuckoo, but 

 in approaching I had disturbed her, for she flew away. I observed that 

 all the eggs (four in number) of the Robin had disappeared, and that the 

 nest was empty, (whether the Cuckoo had cast them out or not I cannot 

 tell, but I found the shells on the ground when I went out.) Thinking 

 that the Cuckoo might return, I remained at the window as quietly as 

 possible, and she did return, but she exhausted my patience, as I had to 

 sit in rather a tiring position in order to see her, and I went out. On 

 going round to the window she flew away, and, as I have said, called 

 "Cuckoo" twice. I looked in the nest and there was her egg, which I 



