inued, "they should be in that box upon which your
uncle's sitting."

Uncle Joe solemnly moved to another case and his late seat was opened,
the layers of cotton-wool, in this case a little stained with sea-water,
removed, and fresh beauties met my gaze.

"There, Nat," said Uncle Dick; "those are the fruits of a long stay in
Central America and the hotter parts of Peru. What do you think of that
bird?"

I uttered an exclamation of delight as I drew forth and laid gently in
my hand a short stumpy bird that must in life have been about as big as
a very thick-set pigeon. But this bird was almost entirely of a rich
orange colour, saving its short wings and tail, which were of a
cinnamon-brown, and almost hidden by a fringe of curly, crisp orange
plumes, while the bird's beak was covered by the radiating crest,
something like a frill, that arched over the little creature's head.

"Why, nothing could be more beautiful than that, uncle," I cried. "What
is it?"

"The rock manakin, or chatterer," he replied; "an inhabitant of the
hottest and most sterile parts of Central America. Here is another kind
that I shot in Peru. You see it is very similar but has less orange
about it, and its crest is more like a tuft or shaving-brush than the
lovely radiating ornament of the other bird. That is almost like a
wheel of feathers in rapid motion."

"And as orange as an orange," said Uncle Joe, approvingly.

"I thought we could not find any more beautiful birds in your boxes,
uncle," I said.

"Oh! but we have not done yet, my boy; wait and see."

We went on with our task, the damp peculiar odour showing that it was
high time the cases were emptied.

"Now, Nat, we are coming to the cuckoos," he said, as I lifted a thin
layer of wool.

"It does seem curious for there to be cuckoos in America," I said.

"I don't see why, Nat," he replied, as he carefully arranged his
specimens. "You remember I told you it was a cuckoo, probably from
Malacca, that you showed me you had bought; well, those you are about to
unpack are some of the American representatives of the family. You will
see that they are soft-billed birds, with a very wide gape and bristles
like moustaches at the sides like thin bars to keep in the captives they
take."

"And what do they capture, sir?" I asked.

"Oh, caterpillars and butterflies and moths, Nat. Soft-bodied
creatures. Nature has given each bird suitable bills for its work.
Mind how you take ou