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"eyes, wonderfully sweet to hear, with its variety of liquid notes, subtly 

 "subdued, so that it requires a musical ear to distinguish its rarified music. 



"But here conies an unwelcome intruder. A weirdly mournful note 

 " in the distance heralds his approach. It is coming nearer ; now itdies away, 

 "now it swells to louder notes; beseeching, desolate, indescribably sorrowful. 

 " Here is the bird at last, up in that tall Acacia tree. The sun glints on his 

 " back, which shines in a greenish colour. 



" It is the bronze cuckoo. That outcast among birds. Its call is 

 " utterly different from the favourite of poets, the English cuckoo, but its 

 "female shares with her European sister the unnatural habit of depositing 

 " her eggs in the nest of other birds, deputing strangers to rear her young. 



" The soldier - birds and wagtails have discovered the undesired 

 "visitor. They fly around with him with shrill abuse. It is strange that 

 "this bird should be generally disliked by others. Some instinct warns 

 "them against him, although they do not seem able to distinguish the egg 

 " of the trespasser, nor the young, greedy cuckold, after the}' have hatched 

 " him, from their own eggs and birds. 



" Blue-crested wrens, with their soberly-clad small wives, are now 

 "also chirping spitefully round the cuckoo, and a pair of graceful, exquis- 

 " itely-marked pee-wits have joined the rest in tormenting the stranger. 



"He has had enough of this, and flies away. Far off we hear him 

 " complaining mournfully of the inhospitality of my garden birds, till his 

 "piping dies away in the distance. 



"Look under this trailing rose-bush. Do you see that cunuingly- 

 " woven bag of wool, grass and green moss ? This is a tom-tits nest. 



" The entrance is at the side; you may insert a finger, feeling how 

 "soft and silky the inside is of this tiny cot. 



"Yes, there are three little snow-white eggs in it. But here comes 

 " the anxious little mother, with yellow breast, short tail, and grey-green 

 " back. 



" Her mate follows, twittering reproachfully, so we must leave them 

 "in peace, turning our attention to those two dear swallows singing so 

 "pleasantly on the garden gate. 



"They leave us for a little while if the winter is very severe, but 

 "sometimes remain all the time, spending the cold months in our big sand- 

 " stonebarn, and returning to my garden with the return of spring. 



"These Australian house-swallows have a much deeper rust-coloured 

 " breast than the European ones, and sing as melodiously as an English 

 "bullfinch, while their over-sea relations only twitter. 



" A flash of scarlet, blue, and green comes though the pines trees. A 

 "pair of rosella parrots dart past. They have their nest in that hoary 

 " peppermint tree, near the creek, just outside the gate. There is one of 

 "them just slipping into the hole high up ill the tree-trunk. 



