41 
The Cuckoo is always an interesting bird to us in England, and 
Imown of old as ‘the harbinger of spring.” Wordsworth writes 
thus : 
“Thrice welcome, darling of the spring ! 
Even yet thou art to me 
No bird, but an invisible thing, 
A voice, a mystery,” 
but I don’t think we shall have much commendation for the 
remarkable behaviour of either the old or the young bird as regards 
their nesting habits. The 17th April is put down as the usualjdate 
for his arrival in England. The female lays her egg upon the 
ground about the middle of May and then deposits it in the nest 
of a bird whose egg resembles the one she has just laid, for 
cuckoo’s eggs vary very much, and she makes no nest of her own. 
She may perhaps turn out some of the eggs already in the nest 
she selects. Morris mentions 22 kinds of birds whose nests are 
frequently used, bnt the Hedge Sparrow, Robin, Titlark, Wagtail, 
and Wren are suificient for me to enumerate. Now the egg of a 
cuckoo is remarkably small, corresponding to that of a bird about 
one quarter of its own size, and the young, on being hatched, are 
sturdy persevering little murderers, even before they can see. 
Listen to the following, written by a lady naturalist. ‘‘ The nest 
was that of the Titlark, and had two Titlark’s eggs, besides that of 
the Cuckoo. It was belowa heather bush on the declivity of a 
low abrupt bank. At one visit the Titlarks were found to be 
hatched, but not the Cuckoo. At the next visit, forty-eight hours 
after we found the young cuckoo alone in the nest, and both the 
young Titlarks lying down the bank, about ten imches from the 
margin of the nest, but quite lively after being warmed in the hand. 
They were replaced in the nest beside the Cuckoo, which struggled 
about till it got its back under one of them, when it climbed back- 
wards directly up the open side of the nest, and hitched the Tit- 
larks from its back on to the edge. It then stood quite upright on 
its legs, which were straddled wide apart, w’th the claws firmly 
fixed halfway down the inside of the nest, among the interlacing 
fibres with which the nest was woven, and stretching its wings 
apart and backwards, it elbowed the Titlark fairly over the margin 
so far that its struggles took it down the bank, instead of back into 
the nest. After this the Cuckoo stood a minute or two, feeling 
back with its wings, as ifto make sure that the Titlark was fairly 
overboard, and then subsided into the bottom of the nest. As it 
was getting late, and the Cuckoo did not immediately set to work 
on the other nestling, I replaced the ejected one, and went home 
On returning next day, both nestlings were found dead and cold out 
of the nest. I replaced one of them, but the Cuckoo made no 
effort to get under it and eject it, but seated himself contentedly 
