EXTRACTS FROM A LECTURE GIVEN EV WILLIAM LEAN. 105 
A good many years ago, in one of those country rambles of the 
pleasure of which I have been speaking, T met with a little incident 
which, I believe, throws some light upon this question. We were 
walking, one afternoon, across Moseley Common, not far from the 
spot where the Independent College is now building. As we 
proceeded, a Titlark flew out from under a Furze bush not far 
from my feet, and on searching the spot we found her nest with, 
so far as my memory serves me at this distance of time, only one 
egg in it. The Furze bush was a thick, compact, stunted bush, 
with the lower branches lying close to tho ground ; and the nest 
was made in a slight hole in the ground, two or three inches in, 
under the outer edge of the bush, and accessible only through a 
very small opening in the dry grass which grew up among the 
Furze, which opening had pretty evidently been made by the 
Titlark herself. We looked at the nest for a short time, and then, 
leaving both it and its one egg undisturbed, we went on our way. 
We had not advanced across the common more than about two 
hundred yards, when, happening to turn in the direction of the 
nest, I saw a Cuckoo coming skimming over the tops of the 
Furze bushes, towards the spot we had just left. We stopped 
to look at her a moment or two, and presently observed that 
she alighted on the ground very near to the Furze bush of which 
I have spoken. Tho Furze and Fern with which the common 
was covered now concealed her from our sight ; but, thinking her 
movements worth watching, we stood still to see whether she 
would rise again from the same spot. In less than five minutes 
she rose as we expected, and instead of skimming over the Furze 
again, as she was doing when we first observed her, she flew off 
towards the fields which bordered that part of the common. 
We now hastened back to the Titlark’s nest, and on looking 
in I found, in addition to the egg of the lawful owner of the 
nest which we had left there, a fresh-laid Cuckoo’s egg, — the egg, 
without any doubt, of the Cuckoo we had just been watching. 
But in what manner had the egg been introduced into the 
Titlark’s nest? From what I have already said of the situation 
of the nest, — that it lay in a small hole, about two or three 
inches in under the thick-set stiff branches of a Furze bush, which 
almost rested on the ground, — I think it will be readily inferred 
that the Cuckoo could not easily have forced herself into the nest. 
