261 



KANNY, THE KANGABOO 



A writer in Chambers' Journal, more than twenty years 

 ago, tells an interesting story about a pet kangaroo that 

 he and his sisters had for a playmate. How she came into 

 the family he does not say. Perhaps some sailor uncle or 

 cousin brought her from Australia ; but, at any rate, there 

 she was, and dearly the children loved her. 



To begin with, she was so pretty, tall, and slight— she 

 measured quite five feet when standing up — with a small 

 head, large eyes, and soft silky skin. Her tail, which she 

 used both as a whip and as a means of expressing her 

 feelings, was long and powerful, and with her two little 

 hands she helped herself at meals in the most delicate 

 and polite manner. And then, how she could jump ! 

 The flight of stairs she cleared at a bound, with an ease 

 no boy ever managed to imitate ; and as for the big hall, 

 four skips brought her from one end to the other. The 

 cats, who had been rather pleased with their own leaping 

 performances before Kanny came, treated her coldly, and 

 not very civilly ; when she bounded into the room where 

 they were all comfortably seated on the best chairs, they 

 rose as one cat, and put their tails up and their ears 

 down. Kanny did not understand the language of cats 

 —it was only quite lately she had made the acquaintance 

 of any — and stared at them with wonder, and when the 

 cats found it was no use being rude, they became polite, 

 and at last grew quite fond of Kanny, who never tried to 

 take liberties with them, though she was so big. But to 



