.W.

SATURDAY NIGHT.

Bring on the boots and shoes, Tommy; for this is Saturday night, and I
must make things clean for Sunday.

Here is my old jacket, to begin with. Whack, whack, whack! As I beat it
with my stick, how the dust flies!

The jacket looks a little the worse for wear; and that patch in the
elbow is more for show than use. But it is a good warm jacket still, and
mother says that next Christmas I shall have a new one.

Whack, whack, whack! I wish Christmas was not so far off. If somebody
would make me a present now of a handsome new jacket, without a patch in
it, I should take it as an especial kindness. I do hate to wear patched
clothes.

Stop there, Master Frank! You deserve to be beaten, instead of your
jacket. Look in the glass at your fat figure and rosy checks. Are you
not well fed and well taken care of? Is not good health better than fine
clothes? Are you the one to complain?

Ah, Frank! Just look at poor Tim Morris, as he goes by in his carriage.
See his fine rich clothes, and his new glossy hat. But see, too, how
pale and thin he looks. How gladly would he put on your patched jacket,
and give you his new one, if he could have your health!

[Illustration: Saturday Night]

Whack, whack, whack! I'm an ungrateful boy. I'll not complain again.
Christmas may be as long as it pleases in coming. I'll tell mother she
mustn't pinch herself to buy me a new jacket. I'll tell her this one
will serve me a long time yet; that I have got used to it, and like it.
It will look almost as good as new when I get the dust out of it. Whack,
whack, whack!

UNCLE CHARLES.

THE CUCKOO.

"Tell me what bird this is a picture of," said Arthur.

"That," said Uncle Oscar, "is the cuckoo, a bird which arrives in
England, generally, about the middle of April, and departs late in June,
or early in July."

"Why does it go so early?" asked Arthur.

"Well, I think it is because it likes a warm climate; and, as soon as
autumn draws near, it wants to go back to the woods of Northern Africa."

"Why is it called the cuckoo?"

"Because the male bird utters a call-note which sounds just like the
word _kuk-oo_. In almost every language, this sound has suggested the
name of the bird. In Greek, it is _kokkux_; in Latin, _coccyx_; in
French, _coucou_; in German, _kukuk_."

"What does the bird feed on?" asked Arthur.

"It feeds on soft insects, hairy caterpillars, and tender fruits."

"Where does it bui