that I could hardly turn around
in it. I was about to die of terror and despair when I chanced to
remember that at certain times the door would open to push out the bird
and allow it to say 'Cuck-oo!' before it shut again. So, the next time
it opened in this way, I would be able to make my escape.

"Very patiently I waited in the dark little hole, listening to the
steady 'tick-tock!' of the machinery behind me and trying not to be
nervous. After awhile I heard the old man come into the room and
exclaim sorrowfully because his captive cuckoo had escaped from its
cage. He could not imagine what had become of me, and I kept still and
laughed to myself to think how I would presently surprise him.

"It seemed an age before I finally heard the click that opened the door
in front of me. Then the platform on which I sat sprang out, and I
fluttered my wings and yelled 'Cuck-oo! Cuck-oo!' as loud as I could.
The old man was standing right in front of me, his mouth wide open with
astonishment at the wonderfully natural performance of his wooden bird,
as he thought me. He shouted 'Bravo!' again, and clapped his hands; and
at that I flew straight into his face, and clawed his white hair with
all my might, and screamed as loud as I could.

"He screamed, too, being taken by surprise, and tumbled over backward
so that he sat down upon the floor with a loud bump. I flew to the
work-bench, and then the truth dawned upon him that I was not the
wooden bird but the real one.

"'Good gracious!' said he, 'I've left the window open. The rascal will
escape!'

"I glanced at the window and saw that it was indeed wide open. The
sight filled me with triumphant joy. Before the old man could get upon
his feet and reach the window I had perched upon the sill, and with one
parting cry of 'Cuck-oo!' I spread my wings and flew straight into the
air.

"Well, I never went back to enquire if he enjoyed the trick I had
played upon him, but I've laughed many a time when I thought of the old
fellow's comic expression when a real cuckoo instead of a painted one
flew out of his ticking machine."

As the cuckoo ended his tale the other birds joined in a chorus of
shrill laughter; but Chubbins said to them, gravely:

"He was a smart man, though, to make a cuckoo-clock. I saw one myself,
one time, and it was a wonderful thing. The cuckoo told what time it
was every hour."

"Was it made of wood?" asked the bluejay.

"I don't know that," replied the boy-