REMINISCENCES FROM THE MELBOURNE ZOO. 
153 
out the smallest degree of spitefulness, was most unpleasant for the 
victim, as the ’roos had no notion of moderating the force of blows 
dealt in fun. One day a gardener went into their paddock to clear up 
fallen rubbish. He was previously warned of this propensity of the 
pair, and told to keep them well in sight so that he should not be taken 
unawares. He was so intent upon his work, or so absorbed in thought, 
that he forgot all his instructions, and was bending low over the heap of 
rubbish he had raked together, when the larger of the two kangaroos 
hopped up and dealt his favorite blow. Taken completely off his guard, 
the man had no time to steady himself, and down he went, bowled over 
by the force of the impact. 
The moment the two saw the man stretched out on the ground, 
their fighting spirit was roused, and the joke became real earnest. Both 
attacked him furiously, and it was some time before the unfortunate 
man could beat them off sufficiently to regain his feet. As soon as he 
did so he engaged the nearest animal in a fine round of boxing that might 
have brought him off victorious ; but the second one, in a most unsports- 
manlike way, came behind him and, catching him by the shoulders with 
his hand-like fore-paws, brought his formidable hind-feet to work on 
the gardener’s ribs. Under these conditions it was but a short time 
before the man was on his back a second time, and the two punished him 
very cruelly. A lady passing the compound saw the struggle and 
quickly warned a keeper, who snatched up a bass broom as he ran — 
this is the best weapon a man can have — and in a moment he had vaulted 
the fence and beaten the two wildly excited animals off. He got the 
battered victim out of the paddock, but a subsequent medical examina- 
tion proved that a number of ribs were broken, the collar bone fractured, 
and the head was badly cut in several places. Like so many practical 
jokers, the two young kangaroos found that they had lost their friends. 
PAINTING A KANGAROO RED. 
Years ago a quaint old character was employed at the gardens as 
a painter. He had been “sans teeth” for many years, and he was 
wedded to clay pipes, which he flavored with great assiduity. These 
pipes were difficult to keep steady in toothless gums, so he had a way of 
twining black cotton around an inch or two of the stems, and this pro- 
vided what he considered an admirable “holdfast.” It has always been 
a rule in the gardens that no smoking shall be indulged in during work- 
ing hours, but the old painter found it conducive to artistic effects if his 
brain were soothed by nicotine as he decorated labels or transformed 
finger-marked fences. One morning his task was to paint the stand 
