26 THE REED WARBLER 
the converse by no means follows. The parts of England in which 
it appears to be most frequent, are East Riding of Yorkshire, Essex, 
Surrey, Kent, Suffolk, and Norfolk. In the reed-beds on the banks 
of the Thames, between Erith and Greenwich, it is common. 
“The nest of the Reed Warbler is often elegantly built, and 
generally fixed to three or four reed-stems. It is composed of 
slender blades of grass, interwoven with reed-tops, dry duckweed, 
and the spongy substance which covers many of the marsh ditches ; 
and, here and there, a long piece of sedge is wound securely around 
it; the lining is of the finer flowering stems of grass, intermixed 
with a little horsehair. It is a deep and solid structure, so that 
the eggs cannot easily roll out; it is firmly fastened to the reeds 
in tidal ditches and rivers, at the height of three or four feet from 
the water, but in still ditches often not more than a foot. In windy 
weather, when wading through the reed-beds, I have seen nests, 
with both old and young in them, blown nearly to the surface of 
the water ; but the birds fix their claws firmly to the sides of the 
nest, with their heads to windward, and thus ride as securely in 
their cradle as a sailor does in his cot or hammock.” The Cuckoo 
occasionally chooses the Reed Warbler’s nest to lay its eggs in, for 
the same writer remarks—‘‘ At the latter end of July, 1829, while 
reading in my garden, which adjoins a market garden, I was agree- 
ably surprised to see a young Cuckoo, nearly full-grown, alight on 
the railings between the two, not more than a dozen yards from 
where I was sitting. Anxious to see what bird had reared this 
Cuckoo, I silently watched his movements, and had not waited 
more than a minute, when a Reed Warbler flew to the Cuckoo, 
who, crouching down with his breast close to the rail, and fluttering 
his wings, opened wide his orange-coloured mouth to receive the 
insect his foster-mother had brought him. This done, the Reed 
Warbler flew away for a fresh supply of food. The difference in 
the size of the two birds was great; it was like a pigmy feeding 
a giant. While the Reed Warbler was absent, the Cuckoo shuffled 
along the rail, and hopped upon a slender post to which it was 
nailed, and which projected about eight inches above the rail. 
The Reed Warbler soon returned with more food, and alighted 
close to the Cuckoo, but on the rail beneath him; she then began 
to stretch herself to the utmost to give him the food, but was unable 
to reach the Cuckoo’s mouth, who, like a simpleton, threw his head 
back, with his mouth wide open, as before. The Reed Warbler, 
by no means at a loss, perched upon the Cuckoo’s broad back, 
who, still holding back his head, received in this singular way the 
morsel brought for him.” The song of the Reed Warbler is 
loudest and at its best during the evening twilight. 
1 Mr. W. H. Thomas, in the Zoologist, p. 97. 
