Cuckoo Trying an Echo. 83 



nor to turn your eye. Keep your glance on a frond 

 of the fern just beyond him, and he will stay. The 

 instant your eye meets his or a finger stirs, he plunges 

 out of sight. 



It is so also with birds. Walk across a meadow 

 swinging a stick, even humming, and the rooks 

 calmly continue their search for grubs within thirty 

 yards; stop to look at them, and they rise on the 

 wing directly. So, too, the finches in the trees by 

 the roadside. Let the wayfarer pass beneath the 

 bough on which they are singing, and they will sing 

 on, if he moves without apparent interest ; should he 

 pause to listen, their wings glisten in the sun as they 

 fly. 



The meadows lead down to the shores of the mere, 

 and the nearest fields melt almost insensibly into the 

 green margin of the water, for at the edge it is so 

 full of flags, and rushes, and weeds as at a distance 

 to be barely distinguishable there from the sward. 

 As we approach, the cuckoo sings passing over head ; 

 ' she cries as she flies ' is the common country 

 saying. 



I used to imagine that the cuckoo was fond of 

 an echo, having noticed that a particular clump of 

 trees overhanging some water, the opposite bank of 

 which sent back a clear reply, was a specially 



G 2 



