128 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



a true American, the bird lacks animal spirits and a 

 genius for social intercourse. One August night I 

 heard one calling, calling, a long time, not far from 

 my house. It was a true night sound, more fitting 

 then than by day. 



The European cuckoo, on the other hand, seems 

 to be a joyous, vivacious bird. Wordsworth applies 

 to it the adjective "blithe," and says: 



" I hear thee babbling to the vale 

 Of sunshine and of flowers." 



English writers all agree that its song is animated 

 and pleasing, and the outcome of a light heart. 

 Thomas Hardy, whose touches always seem true to 

 nature, describes in one of his books an early sum- 

 mer scene from amid which " the loud notes of three 

 cuckoos were resounding through the still air." This 

 is totally unlike our bird, which does not sing in 

 concert, but affects remote woods, and is most fre- 

 quently heard in cloudy weather. Hence the name 

 of rain-crow that is applied to him in some parts of 

 the country. I am more than half inclined to be- 

 lieve that his call does indicate rain, as it is certain 

 that of the tree-toad does. 



The cuckoo has a slender, long-drawn-out appear- 

 ance on account of the great length of tail. It is 

 seldom seen about farms or near human habitations 

 until the June canker-worm appears, when it makes 

 frequent visits to the orchard. It loves hairy worms, 

 and has eaten so many of them that its gizzard is 

 lined with hair. 



The European cuckoo builds no nest, but puts its 



