The Promise of May. 17 



One of these early comers lately caught in the streets 

 of the Bavarian capital, numb with cold and spent 

 with travel, bore upon his slender foot a thin plate of 

 metal, stamped with the Imperial arms of Turkey. 

 Nothing more, not even a date, so that whether he had 

 come from Stamboul, or the beleaguered stronghold of 

 Emin Bey, remains unknown. But he had come in 

 advance of spring-time. Winter still brooded over the 

 Bavarian Highlands, and fresh-fallen snow lay deep in 

 the valley of the Isar as it often does long after the 

 arrival of the swallows. 



A few days sometimes as much as a fortnight 

 after the swallow comes the cuckoo. There will be 

 the usual notices in country papers, of ' an extraordi- 

 narily early appearance of the cuckoo in March,' but 

 the naturalist knows better than to look for it then. 



Perhaps there is no bird whose note is more 

 suggestive of the early days of summer than the 



cuckoo ; 



in April come he will ; 



but 



In May he sings all day. 



The cuckoo of the poets is a wandering voice ; at best 

 but a dryad, who calls unseen from the depths of 

 the greenwood. There is certainly something strange 

 about a bird whose parents make no nest of their 

 own, and who has to depend on charity for his bring- 

 ing up. 



But he is a very real figure in the sylvan landscape, 



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