THE CUCKOO. 



UR first introduction to the 

 Cuckoo was by means of 

 the apparition which issued 

 hourly from a little German 

 clock, such as are frequently 

 found in country inns. This particu- 

 lar clock had but one dial hand, and 

 the exact time of day could not 

 be determined by it until the appear- 

 ance of the Cuckoo, who, in a squeak- 

 ing voice, seemed to announce that it 

 was just one hour later or earlier, as 

 the case might be, than at his last 

 appearance. We were puzzled, and 

 remember fancying that a sun dial, in 

 clear weather, would be far more 

 satisfactory as a time piece. "Coo-coo," 

 the image repeated, and then retired 

 until the hour hand should summon 

 him once more. 



To very few people, not students of 

 birds, is the Cuckoo really known. 

 Its evanescent voice is often recog- 

 nized, but being a solitary wanderer 

 even ornithologists have yet to learn 

 much of its life history. In their 

 habits the American and European 

 Cuckoos are so similar that whatever 

 of poetry and sentiment has been 

 written of them is applicable alike to 

 either. A delightful account of the 

 species may be found in Dixon's Bird 

 Life, a book of refreshing and original 

 observation. 



"The Cuckoo is found in the verdant 

 woods, in the coppice, and even on 

 the lonely moors. He flits from one 

 stunted tree to another and utters his 

 notes in company with the wild song 

 of the Ring Ousel and the harsh calls 

 of the Grouse and Plover. Though 

 his notes are monotonous, still no one 

 gives them this appellation. No! this 

 little wanderer is held too dear by us 

 all as the harbinger of spring for 

 aught but praise to be bestowed on his 

 mellow notes, which, though full and 

 soft, are powerful, and may on a calm 

 morning, before the every-day hum of 

 human toil begins, be heard a mile 

 away, over wood, field, and lake. 

 Toward the summer solstice his notes 



are on the wane, and when he gives 

 them forth we often hear him utter 

 them as if laboring under great diffi- 

 culty, and resembling the syllables, 

 " Coo-coo-coo-coo. ' ' 



On one occasion Dixon says he 

 heard a Cuckoo calling in treble 

 notes, Giick-oo-oo, cuck-oo-oo, inex- 

 pressibly soft and beautiful, notably 

 the latter one. He at first supposed 

 an echo was the cause of these strange 

 notes, the bird being then half a mile 

 away, but he satisfied himself that this 

 was not the case, as the bird came and 

 alighted on a noble oak a few yards 

 from him and repeated the notes. 

 The Cuckoo utters his notes as he 

 flies, but only, as a rule, when a few 

 yards from the place on which he 

 intends alighting. 



The opinion is held by some ob- 

 servers that Nature has not intended 

 the Cuckoo to build a nest, but influ- 

 ences it to lay its eggs in the nests of 

 other birds, and intrust its young to 

 the care of those species best adapted 

 to bring them to maturity. But the 

 American species does build a nest, 

 and rears its young, though Audubon 

 gives it a bad character, saying: "It 

 robs smaller birds of their eggs." It 

 does not deserve the censure it has 

 received, however, and it is useful 

 in many ways. Its hatred of the 

 worm is intense, destroying many 

 more than it can eat. So thoroughl}- 

 does it do its work, that orchards, 

 which three years ago, were almost 

 leafless, the trunks even being covered 

 by slippery webbing, are again yield- 

 ing a good crop. 



In September and October the 

 Cuckoo is silent and suddenly disap- 

 pears. "He seldom sees the lovely 

 tints of autumn, and never hears the 

 wintry storm-winds' voice, for, im- 

 pelled by a resistless impulse, he 

 wings his way afar over mountain, 

 stream, and sea, to a land where 

 northern blasts are not felt, and where 

 a summer sun is shining in a cloud- 

 less sky." 



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