almost silence."

"Cuckoo! cuckoo!"

"O grandmamma, there's the cuckoo!" cried all the children at once.

"Yes; there are a great many cuckoos about here. They say it is only the
male bird that calls 'Cuckoo,' that the female simply makes a chattering
sound."

"Did you ever see a cuckoo, grandma?"

"No, never a live bird, only one stuffed. I will tell you a story of how
I heard one once. It was about five-and-twenty years ago. I wanted some
primroses for a nosegay. I used to pick the long feathery moss that
grows in these woods and put the primroses among it. I ran across the
road outside of our gates--for I could run in those days--and soon
filled my basket with as many primroses as I wanted. As I was standing
under a large tree, I heard all at once, exactly over my head, a loud,
gruff cry of 'Cuckoo.' I was so startled, the cry was so near, that I
thought it must be a rude man, and I dropped all my primroses and ran
back to the gates.

"Then I thought, 'How foolish of me to be frightened; it is the 18th of
April, the right time for the cuckoo to come back to England from the
warm country where he has been all the winter,--of course it is a real
cuckoo.' So I went back and picked up my primroses, but I heard no more
of that cuckoo.

"I told my children when I came indoors about my adventure; and how they
did laugh at their mother for being frightened at a bird.

"I shall always think, though, that that particular cuckoo must have
caught a bad cold on his long journey to England, or soon after his
arrival, for his voice sounded as if he had a sore throat."

"Now children," said grandmamma, rising from her seat, "it is time we
walked homewards."

As they came near to the house they saw Smut sitting on the door-step,
waiting patiently to be let in at the front door.

Within a short distance of the house was a brook, almost hidden in
places by overhanging bushes and long reedy grass. Then it flowed into
more open ground; but it was very quiet in its flow, for the bed was
soft and not stony.

Of course the next day the children set off for this brook, to listen to
its "murmuring sound." Jack lay down upon the ground and leaned his
head over the brook, thinking he could hear better in that fashion. Mary
said she should sit down by a bend in the stream and be comfortable, for
she was sure she could not listen well if she were afraid of rolling
into the water; while little Annie sat by her sister's side, holdin