ld its nest?"

"The cuckoo, I am sorry to say, is not a very honest bird. Instead of
taking the trouble to build a nest for herself, the female bird lays her
eggs in the nest of other birds, and to them commits the care of
hatching and rearing her offspring."

"I should not call that acting like a good parent," said Arthur. "Do the
other birds take care of these young ones that are not their own?"

"Oh, yes! they not only take care of them and feed them for weeks, but
sometimes they even let the greedy young cuckoos push their own children
out of the nest."

"That's a hard case," said Arthur. "Is there any American bird that acts
like the cuckoo?"

[Illustration: The Cuckoo]

"Oh, yes!" said Uncle Oscar. "There is a little bird called the
'cow-bunting,' about as large as a canary-bird: she, too, makes other
birds hatch her young and take care of them."

"I don't like such lazy behavior. Did you ever hear the note of the
cuckoo?" said Arthur.

"Oh, yes!" replied Uncle Oscar. "I have heard it in England; and there,
too, I have heard the skylark and the nightingale, neither of which
birds we have in America. But we have the mocking-bird, one of the most
wonderful of song-birds."

"I wonder if the cuckoo would not live in America," said Arthur. "I
should like to get one and try it. I would take good care of it."

"It would not thrive in this climate, Arthur."

UNCLE OSCAR.

[Illustration: Work and Sing!]

WORK AND SING!

You must work, and I must sing,
That's the way the birdies do:
See the workers on the wing;
See the idle singers too.

Yet not wholly idle these,
They the toilers do not wrong;
For the weary heart they ease
With the rapture of their song.

If our work of life to cheer
We no music had, no flowers,
Life would hardly seem so dear,
Longer then would drag the hours.

Like the birdies let us be;
Let us not the singers chide;
There's a use in all we see:
Work and sing! the world is wide.

EMILY CARTER.

[Illustration: One Year Old]

ONE YEAR OLD.

Hold her up, mamma, and let us all have a look at her. Is she not a dear
little thing?

She is not a bit afraid, but only puzzled at being stared at by so many
people. She does not know what to make of it.

She clutches at her mother's chin, as much as to say, "Tell me what this
means."

It means, baby, that you are one year old. This is