NATURAL HISTORY NOTES 
115 
lo awake out of his long sleep, hut I suppose the weather as yet is too inclement 
for him, although the month of May. F. G. Savacje. 
Early Life of the Young Cuckoo. — Surely the theory, put forward on 
page 85 of the May number, to explain w hy the cuckoo does not build a nest for 
itself is unsound. It seems to me that if the cuckoo was in the habit of building 
a nest for itself, then its young would not have implanted in their nature a desire 
to clear everything out of the nest. It is because they do not build nests for 
themselves that their young /lave this desire, and the obvious reason for such a 
desire is that the foster-parents — being always smaller than an adult cuckoo — 
could not make adequate provision for more than one foster-child : if the birds 
had to cater not only for their own young but also for more than one foster-child, 
then none of them would be strong enough to combat the struggle for existence, 
and the race of cuckoos, far from being multiplied, would be much reduced. 
Hence, for the preservation of the species, it was necessary that an instinctive 
desire to clear out all other occupants of the nest should be implanted or evolved 
in the young cuckoo. The habit of laying eggs in other birds’ nests produced 
the instinct in the young to reign alone in the nest ; without such habit the instinct 
to reign alone would never have existed. 
Ridley Hall, Cambridge. A. C. Mackie. 
The Young Cuckoo. — Can any one enlighten me as to whether it is true 
that the young cuckoo kills the foster-mother while still a nestling ? I have been 
told by a native of .Sussex that the young cuckoo nips the throat of the elder 
bird when the latter is in the act of feeding it. 
Carlyle Lodge, Canouttny Place, N. Chas. E. J. IIannett. 
Alay 8. 
Cuckoo Lore. — “ It is well, according to the Cornish villagers, to hear the 
cuckoo from the right, because that is a favourable omen and brings good fortune. 
“ Shropshire folk in the old days had their own notions of what was best to 
do when the call of the cuckoo was heard in the land. They left off work 
and devoted the rest of the day to merrymaking and the enjoyment of the 
‘ cuckoo-ale.’ 
“ Not so long ago it was a very common belief that if a young woman ran into 
the fields early in the morning to hear the cuckoo, and as soon as she heard it, 
took off her left shoe and looked into it, she would there find a man’s hair of 
exactly the same colour as that of her future husband.” — Evening News. 
Wood Pigeons in Canonbury. — For the past two years a pair of wood 
pigeons have been seen in this neighbourhood. Very often I have noticed them 
walking in and about the gardens of this vicinity. 
Carlyle Lodge, Canonlmry Place, N.W. Chas. E. J. Hannett. 
May 8, 1902. 
Our Earliest and Latest Songster. — I cannot profess to say from 
actual personal knowledge which of our songsters is the earliest to begin its 
melody in the morning, but after many years’ observation of birds and their notes, 
I look upon the robin, and not the thrush, as the latest day-bird to sing. Last 
evening (May i) a robin was singing loudly in a neighbouring coppice some time 
after all the thrushes in the vicinity had ceased their songs for the day. The 
robin, too, is the little bird seen flitting about after the dusk has fallen, and in 
fact our familiar friend “ Bob ” keeps shocking bad hours. 
Fyfield, near Abingdon. \V. H. Warner. 
I notice in the April number of the Selhorne Alagazine an enquirer asks 
which is the first of our songsters to sing in the morning and the last at night. 
I thought, perhaps my experience might be of some use. I find from observation, 
extending from March 14 to 28, that the lark is the first to carol forth his 
song at 4.25 a.m. on the first date, gradually getting earlier, until 4.10 a.m. on the 
latter date : on each date the light was only just breaking through the darkness. 
T he larks were followed soon afterw'ards by the thrushes, then the greenfinches 
and robins, and by 5 a.m. the trees and hedgerows were alive with songsters. 
The thrush I believe, to be the last singer at night, except the nightingale. I 
heard one last night, April 8, at 8.30 p.m., it was then almost dark and all other 
