Mr. Jerdan, editor of the _Literary Gazette_, in a letter to Mr.
Loudon, says, "about fifteen years ago I obtained a cuckoo from the
nest of (I think) a hedge sparrow, at Old Brompton, where I then
resided. It was rather curious, as being within ten yards of my house,
Cromwell Cottage, and in a narrow and much frequented lane, leading
from near Gloucester Lodge to Kensington. This bird I reared and kept
alive till late in January; when it fell suddenly from its perch,
while feeding on a rather large dew worm. It was buried: but I had,
long afterwards, strange misgivings, that my poor feathered favourite
was only choked by his food, or in a fit of some kind--his apparent
death was so extremely unexpected from his health and liveliness at
the time. I assure you that I regretted my loss much, my bird being in
full plumage and a very handsome creature. He was quite tame, for in
autumn I used to set him on a branch of a tree in the garden, while I
dug worms for him to dine upon, and he never attempted more than a
short friendly flight. During the coldest weather, and it was rather a
sharp winter, my only precaution was, nearly to cover his cage with
flannel; and when I used to take it off, more or less, on coming into
my breakfast room in the morning, I was recognised by him with
certainly not all the cry "unpleasant to a married ear," but with its
full half "_Cuck_! _Cuck_!"--the only sounds or notes I ever heard
from my bird. Though trifling, these facts may be so far curious as
illustrating the natural history of a remarkable genus, and I have
great pleasure in offering them for your excellent Journal." _Mag.
Nat. Hist._
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