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"Right! right!" cried Wyvis, impatiently "I am tired of this cuckoo-cry about my rights! I have the right to do what I choose, to get what pleasure out of life I can, to do my best for myself. It is everybody's right, and he is only a hypocrite who denies it." "There is one limitation," said Janetta.
Not a small nor an uninfluential section, the philanthropic and the missionary, raised and maintained the cuckoo-cry, 'Africa for the Africans! worthy of its successor, 'Ireland for the Irish! Others believed in imported labour, which has raised so many regions to the height of prosperity; but they did not see how to import it.
So it was hardly surprising, in face of the dominant direction of her thoughts to-night, that, when the Miss Minetts' name punctuated Theresa's discourse recurrent as a cuckoo-cry, remembrance of their merrily inglorious retirement from the region of Faircloth's Inn should present itself. Whereupon Damaris' serious mood was lightened as by sudden sunshine, and she laughed.
"I tell you what it is," said Tom, earnestly, "Ned-of-the-Hill has got into a better place than people's heads he has got into their hearts!" "There it is!" exclaimed James, indignantly. "You have caught up the cuckoo-cry the heart! Why, sir, what merit is there in writing about feelings which any common labourer can comprehend?
But, supposing the estate to be such a verbal hallucination as, for instance, hers had been at Arrowthorne, when her poor, unprogressive, hopelessly impracticable Christopher came there to visit her, and was so wonderfully undeceived about her social standing: what a fiasco, and what a cuckoo-cry would his utterances about marriage seem then.
The laziness, the incurable idleness, of the Negro, was, both immediately before their emancipation in 1838, and for long years after that event, the cuckoo-cry of their white detractors.
'But the instant breakfast was over they began again their cuckoo-cry of "What will you do?" In vain did I answer "Nothing at all, if it please you, madam." 'The Queen at last gave me a spindle and about four pounds of hemp upon a distaff, and sent me out to keep the sheep, assuring me that there could not be a pleasanter occupation, and that I could take my ease as much as I pleased.
"Jack, darling!" was her one eternal cuckoo-cry, "I'm sure it's all a mistake a hideous mistake; and we'll be good friends again some day. Please forgive me, Jack, dear." I was the offender, and I knew it.
I recalled her image, as I had seen her last in Sark; and then I tried to picture her white face, with lips and eyes closed forever, and the awful chill of death resting upon her. It seemed impossible; yet the cuckoo-cry went on in my brain, "Olivia is dead is dead!" I reached home just as Jack was coming in from his evening amusement.
Wherever it was, the wanderers had the end of their desert journey within sight; one bold push forward, and their feet would tread on their inheritance. But, as is so often the case, courage oozed out at the decisive moment, and cowardice, disguised as prudence, called for 'further information, that cuckoo-cry of the faint-hearted.
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