THE' CUCKOO.
[To THE EDITOR OP THE " SPICCTAT011.1 SIE,—In the Spectator of April 30th you refer in the article Newcomers at the Zoo ' " to the exceptionally amusing and interesting birds and animals which have recently arrived from climes sunnier than we can boast of. May I tell you the story of a migrant that missed its chance of wintering abroad? A. young cuckoo was taken in our woods last August. We are a big lunatic asylum on a bill in Essex, exceptionally favourably placed for wild birds, and only eight miles from the Bank of England. We are surrounded by oaks, horn- beams, firs, hawthorn, crab-apple, and service trees with thick and dense undergrowth. Many kinds of our native birds abound here, and the cuckoo has therefore many opportunities of practising its alien parenthood. My story is that a young cuckoo, now in good plumage, and believed to be a male, has since the first day of its captivity been looked after by a patient, and has lived in a primitively made wooden aviary also built by a patient, hanging—adjacent to a large window facing south-west—on the wall of a lofty, well- spaced, and well-ventilated room, the bakery of this insti- ,ution, which has a temperature during the winter of about seventy-five degrees. The intimacy between my patient and the cuckoo is both friendly and mutual. The bird seems comforted by the appearance of its keeper and benefactor, although on occasion it can be pugnacious and self-assertive, for it will straighten its back, lift its wings, and strike with its bill. This intimacy has undoubtedly been the means of confirming some evil suspicions in regard to the cuckoo's mode of life. It is not only insectivorous, but also frugivorous and carnivorous. Live mice have from time to time been placed in the cage with it, but they would soon be pecked, killed, and eaten, with apparently much relish. It destroys eggs, and I believe its reputation is rightly stained with the guilt of turning young birds when mere fledglings out of their nests and then solacing its palate with their innocent remains. I believe the bird to be a bully, a vagabond, and a loafer, waiting about to find some more conscientious parent to take on its own job. It has been fed through the winter months here upon raw meat cut fine, mice, bread, and eggs. It was heard to "cuckoo" twice on the day your paper was published last week.—I am, Sir, &c.,
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