302 MY COUNTRY WANDERINGS 



a Tree Pipit some way ahead of us. After a care- 

 ful look-out the migrant was located at the summit 

 of a tall Elm tree, looking strangely out of place 

 amid the wintry surroundings (for 'twas evening 

 now), but singing cheerily that strong musical 

 note of his, which those who know the Titlark 

 love so well. 



I have now mentioned four distinct migratory 

 birds which it was my good fortune to locate on 

 April 17, and although after that date I heard a 

 few more Chiff Chaffs and Willow Wrens, and saw 

 a solitary Tree Pipit, it was not until April 26 

 that our perennial feathered friend, the Cuckoo, 

 uttered voice and enabled me to add another 

 species to my meagre list. That the Cuckoo did 

 not arrive upon our shores much before the date 

 named is pretty certain, and the usual ridiculous 

 chroniclings of the March birds may be dismissed 

 without further comment. 



An instance came under my notice recently of 

 how easily people may be deceived. A ploughman 

 of my acquaintance imitates to a nicety the mellow 

 call of the wandering Cuculus canorus, and as early 

 as the first week in March the bailiff and the men 

 on the estate stated that they had heard the bird. 

 He sang, so they said, from the tall Elms in front of 

 the lawn, but the curious part of the story was that 

 whenever the ploughman went with his mates to 

 hear the wonderful March Cuckoo it could not be 



