THE CUCKOO AND ITS FOSTER-MOTHER.
[ro THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR.1 Sra,—Seeing that natural history finds a place in the Spectator, I venture to send you the following incident in bird- life, a common occurrence of course, but perhaps not often witnessed. I am occupying a house in the valley of the Itchen, and looking out the other morning from my bedroom window, I observed a large bird squatting listlessly on the gravel-walk below. I wondered what it could be ; it was neither blackbird, thrash, nor turtle-dove, which latter, at first sight, it resembled. Presently my difficulty was solved ; another bird appeared on the scene ; the first was a young, fully fledged cuckoo, the other, a water-wagtail, his foster-mother; and never was offspring more tenderly nurtured. Throughout the day, the cuckoo might constantly be seen, either on the ground, tree, or fence near by, the stolid recipient of every insect the little bird, running, flying, and fluttering hither and thither, could catch and carry to the insatiable maw of her changeling. When the -cuckoo was on the ground, she ran up to him, and, standing on tip-toe, placed the food in his mouth ; when seated on the fence, she perched on his back, and the cuckoo, turning his head, re- ceived the dainty morsel. At first he remained for a quarter of an hour or so in the same place and position, then he and his foster-mother would fly off together ; he to light on tree or fence, and she to minister to his wants as before ; later he became more lively, and hopped about after the running water-wagtail ; then he withdrew himself from public gaze, among the trees and shrubs, the wagtail still continuing to feed him. The pair were first observed on the 4th inst., but since the 21st we think that he is gone, for we imagine we can identify the foster-mother from that date, seeking her own living, trotting about the lawn with nothing to distract her, but whether in sadness at the loss, or joy at being relieved from the care of her exacting child, who can say ? We con- gratulate the wee thing on her emancipation.—I am, Sir, &c.,
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