SHARP EYES. 11 
run away whenever they saw his bill turned in their 
direction. He never would swallow a grasshopper 
even when it was placed in his throat; he would shake 
himself until he had thrown it out of his mouth. His 
‘best hold’ was ants. He never was surprised at any- 
thing, and never was afraid of anything. He would 
drive the turkey gobbler and the rooster. He would 
advance upon them holding one wing up as high as 
possible, as if to strike with it, and shuffle along the 
ground toward them, scolding all the while in a harsh 
voice. I feared at first that they might kill him, but 
I soon found that he was able to take care of himself. 
I would turn over stones and dig into ant-hills for 
him, and he would lick up the ants so fast that a 
stream of them seemed going into his mouth unceas- 
ingly. I kept him till late in the fall, when he disap- 
peared, probably going south, and I never saw him 
again.” 
My correspondent also sends me some interesting 
observations about the cuckoo. He says a large goose- 
berry bush standing in the border of an old hedge- 
row, in the midst of open fields, and not far from his 
house, was occupied by a pair of cuckoos for two sea- 
sons in succession, and, after an interval of a year, for 
two seasons more. This gave him a good chance to 
observe them. He says the mother-bird lays a single 
egg, and sits upon it a number of days before laying 
the second, so that he has seen one young bird nearly 
grown, a second just hatched, and a whole egg all in 
the nest at once. ‘So far as I have seen, this is the 
settled practice, — the young leaving the nest one at 
atime to the number of six or eight. The young 
have quite the look of the young of the dove in many | 
respects. When nearly grown they are covered with 
