132 Up in the Morning Early. 



little things : perhaps, indeed, the most self-conscious 

 and sympathetic of all birds, outside certain very sensi- 

 tive chamber birds. As we enter our little gate, we 

 hear the hum of innumerable bees in the immemorial 

 limes, in the honeysuckle, in the hedges, and in the 

 wild roses and clematis. Butterflies soon follow, some 

 of them of the most lovely colours, giving full assur- 

 ance of the summer. And so we close our morning 

 ramble of fully two hours not having met or seen a 

 human being. 



The sun is now advancing up his skyey path, and 

 we are concerned only with sunrise. We have seen 

 what delights both ear and eye, but also something 

 to give pain, and pause, and to promote reflection 

 the tragedy of nature, and the manner in which man 

 so often selfishly or thoughtlessly adds to it. 



But before we end our account of our ramble we 

 should like to add a few lines about one point respect- 

 ing Mr. Cuckoo and 



fe-jfcft <" J *S& 



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his family which is 

 wrapped in doubt. 

 Do the young birds, 

 when they are 

 fledged, learn the 

 call-note of the 

 foster-parents or 

 of their real parents, 

 deserting absolutely 

 the former at this 

 stage, after having 

 got their earlier upbringing out of them ? This query 

 is suggested by the fact that, on this early morning- 

 walk of mine, I heard no fewer than four distinctly 

 different cuckoo calls, (i) The ordinary cuckoo call; 



CUCKOO. 



