But all this is being rapidly changed. In the elementary schools Nature-study is steadily improving, and children are being given an eye for, and an interest in, the world of Nature around them. Our school books are now written from the Australian standpoint, and more use can, therefore, be made of the child's everyday experience. Field Naturalists' clubs are doing much to extend the area of specialized Nature-study, and their members are giving valuable assistance to the schools by taking part in the programs for Arbor Day, Bird Day, and the like. The growing interest in the Australian fauna and flora is further evidenced by the frequent reservations by Government of desirable areas as national parks and sanctuaries for the preservation of Australian types. Last, but not least, is the production by capable Nature students of special books on some form of Nature-study, such as this Bird Book by Mr. Leach. To our parents, Australia was a stranger land, and they were sojourners here. Though they lived here, they did not get close enough to it to appreciate fully its natural beauty and its charm. To us, and especially to our children, children of Australian-born parents, children whose bones were made in Australia, the place is home. To them Nature makes a direct appeal, strengthened by those most powerful of all associations, those gathered in childhood, when the foundations of their minds were laid. The English boy, out on a breezy down, may feel an exaltation of soul on hearing a Skylark raining down a flood of delicious melody from far up at heaven's gate, but his joy is no whit greater than his who hears, in the dewy freshness of the early morning, the carol of the Magpie ringing out over an Australian plain. To those who live in countries where the winter is long and bitter, any sign that the genial time of flowers is at hand is very welcome. All over the countryside the first call of the Cuckoo, spring's harbinger, arouses the keenest delight in expectant listeners. This delight is, however, more than mere delight in the bird's song. And to those brought up with it year by year there comes a time when the call of the Cuckoo stirs something deep down below the surface of ordinary emotion. It is the resultant of multitudes of childhood experiences and of associations with song and story. I first heard the Cuckoo in Epping Forest one delicious May evening four years ago. It charmed me, but my delight was almost wholly that of association. All the English poetry I knew was at the back of the bird's song. Here in Australia we have no sharply-defined seasons, yet I find myself every spring listening eagerly for the first plaintive, insistent call of the Pallid Cuckoo. For me his song marks another milestone passed.