68 
DICTIONARY OF NAMES OF BRITISH BIRDS. 
this belief also prevails in other localities, as in Connemara, 
where this bird is, moreover, held in veneration. In 
Cornwall it is regarded as lucky to hear the Cuckoo first 
on the right hand and in front, but unlucky from the left. 
In Shropshire in former times the labourers used on first 
hearing the Cuckoo to cease work and devote themselves 
to merry-making and drinking the ‘“‘ Cuckoo Ale.” 
For some reason not very obvious the Cuckoo is uni- 
versally believed to be a foolish bird, hence it has long 
and very generally been the custom to call a foolish person 
a cuckoo. In Scotland (as also in North Ireland) this 
becomes “ gowk ”’ (q.v.), and the victim of All Fools’ Day 
jokes is invariably termed a gowk. He is usually the 
bearer on his fool’s errand of a missive containing 
this couplet :— 
This is the first of Aprile, 
Hunt the gowk another mile. 
The knowledge of the Cuckoo’s singular breeding-economy 
is as old as Aristotle, who says that it makes no nest and 
sometimes lays its eggs in the nests of small birds and 
devours their eggs. He says that some say the young 
Cuckoo ejects from the nest the other young birds; others 
that the foster-parent kills her young ones and feeds the 
young Cuckoo with their flesh; and some again that the 
old Cuckoo comes and devours them. Cuckold is the name 
applied from early times down to the present day to the 
husband of an unfaithful wife. The word is of Scandi- 
navian origin, and occurs in Mid. Eng. as cukeweald. 
An old belief that Cuckoos become SPARROW- 
HAWKS in winter should be mentioned. It can be traced 
to Aristotle, who says that the Cuckoo is said by some to 
be a changed hawk, because the hawk which it resembles 
disappears when the Cuckoo comes. The late Canon 
Tristram records that on remonstrating with a man for 
killing a Cuckoo the defence was that it was “ well-known 
that Sparrow-hawks turned into Cuckoos in summer.” 
Regarding the old belief in the hibernation of migratory 
birds, Willughby says: “‘ What becomes of the Cuckow in 
the Winter-time, whether hiding herself in hollow trees, 
or other holes and caverns, she lies torpid, and at the return 
of spring revives again, or rather at the approach of winter, 
being impatient of cold, shifts place and departs into hot 
countrys, is not as yet to me certainly known.” He pro- 
ceeds to give—second hand—an alleged instance of “some 
old, dry, rotten Willows” being cast into the stove when 
