REMINISCENCES FROM THE MELBOURNE ZOO. 
9 
then whisked around to the back, and when she is sure she has captured 
the admiration of all onlookers, she coyly hides herself from public view 
with it. She will sit for hours opening and closing it. If it has a 
valuable handle, and Mr. Wilkie insists upon her returning it, she will 
surrender that portion ; but never will she give up the part that “works.” 
It is gradually reduced to atoms. 
These women apparently did not know of this fancy of Mollie’s, but 
as she was in no mood for play that day she tried to avoid their atten- 
tions. But they poked her until she was thoroughly angry, and then 
she gripped one of the parasols in that firm clutch that no one has 
ever been able to loosen. When the woman discovered that her strength 
was no match for Mollie’s, she changed her laughter to wailing. 
“Oh, please, please don’t!” she begged, as the parasol went inch by 
inch into the cage. “It isn’t mine! I wouldn’t mind if it was mine, 
but it’s a borrowed one ! Please don’t take it !” 
Mollie could not see how the ownership of the article was any concern 
of hers. People with borrowed parasols had no right to jeopardise 
them. She pulled steadily and relentlessly, and at last the strain grew 
too great, and Mollie gained complete possession of the treasure. She 
opened it carefully and moved slowly up and down her cage with it over 
her head, imitating many of the antics she had admired in humans of 
her own sex when they were anxious to make impressions. All the 
while the tantalised woman outside was beseeching Mollie to give it 
back unharmed. Mollie listened to her pleadings, and when she grew 
tired of playing with the toy, she gave her answer unmistakably. She sat 
down before the two women, and deliberately broke it into little bits. 
Then she gravely offered the pieces back. 
AN OBEDIENT CHILD. 
It was a hot day, and people carried bottles of cold drinks about 
with them. Mollie can open a bottle of ginger-pop or lemonade with 
anybody, and she dearly loves a drink of such a beverage on a hot day. 
Whether filled or empty it is not known, but on this day someone presented 
her with a bottle, and, very proud of her treasure, she began her favorite 
occupation of hammering it against the bars. She loves to hear the 
bottles smash, and, better still, she likes to fling the jagged pieces at 
children — for she regards children as her natural born tormentors. 
Thus it comes about that the whole staff gets anxious if they know that 
she has a bottle in her possession. 
She would not give the bottle up for all their coaxing, so in despera- 
tion the men sought Mr. Wilkie. It was a holiday, and scores of 
