The Cuckoo. 125 



new, useful, straight, and intensely human, that 

 this rare little bird chose to sun himself that 

 bright November morning. A thousand times 

 have I seen him on the old gray fern-covered 

 walls of the Alpine passes, but never did I expect 

 to see him on this hideous ' improvement ' of 

 civilization. Except that he was silent and alone, 

 he seemed as much at home here as on the flowery 

 slopes of the Engstlen-alp. There is nothing that 

 man can erect that is too uncomely for the birds. 1 

 I have digressed for a moment to tell this tale 

 of the Black Redstart, but I have hardly yet 

 done with the village itself. We have of course 

 plenty of Robins and Hedge-sparrows breeding 

 in our gardens, and in the nests of these the 

 Cuckoo is fond of depositing its egg. It would 

 not be always true to say that the Cuckoo lays 

 its egg in its victim's nest, for in some instances 

 at least the egg is dropped from the bill. A 



1 For exactly four years I saw no other Black Redstart in 

 Oxfordshire. But on November 5, 1888, another caught my 

 eye within half a mile of the spot described in the text. This 

 time it was another new and ugly wall that he patronized, trans- 

 ferring his attention now and then to the cabbages in a cottage 

 garden hard by. 



