Of kangaroos there are more than thirty different kinds, but the English are now so well acquainted with this curious animal that it needs no description.  There are two things about it, however, that I may with propriety here point out —­ viz., the use of the pouch, and the various ways in which the kangaroo is serviceable to the settler.  The average size of the ordinary female kangaroo is about six feet, counting from the nose to the tip of the tail; and, marvellous though it may appear, the young kangaroo, at its birth, is but little over an inch in length, having a vague kind of shape, certainly, but otherwise soft, semi-transparent, and completely helpless.  Now the pouch comes into use.  The little creature is conveyed there by the mother’s lips, and immediately attaches itself to one of the nipples, which are retractile, and capable of being drawn out to a considerable length.  Thus constantly attached to its parent, it waxes bigger daily.  From two to eight months of age it still continues an inhabitant of its curious cradle, but now often protrudes its little head to take an observation of the world at large, and to nibble the grass amongst which its mother is feeding.  Sometimes it has a little run by itself, but seeks the maternal bosom at the slightest intimation of danger.  It quits the pouch for good when it can crop the herbage freely; but even now it will often poke its head into its early home and get a little refreshment on the sly, even though a new-comer may have succeeded to its place.

AN AUSTRALIAN SEARCH PARTY —­ III.

By Charles H. Eden.

A full-grown “paddy melon,” a small and beautiful species of kangaroo, bearing the same resemblance to the “boomer” that a Cingalese mouse-deer does to an elk, was once given to me as a pet, and we became great friends.  Whenever I went into the room and opened my shirt or coat, the little fellow would bound in and coil himself snugly away for hours, if permitted; thus showing, I think that he still retained a recollection of the snug abode of his childhood.  Like most pets, he came to an untimely end —­ in fact, met with the fate that ultimately befalls all the members of his tribe who are domesticated and allowed to run about the bush huts in Australia.  The fireplaces are large recesses in the wall, and on the same level as the floor.  Wood only is burnt, and large heaps of glowing ashes accumulate, for the fire never really goes out, by night or day.  As long as it is blazing, the pet kangaroo will keep his distance, but when it has sunk down to living coals, his foolish curiosity is sure to impel him, sooner or later, to jump right into the thick of it; and then —­ and here his want of brains is painfully shown —­ instead of jumping out again at once, he commences fighting and spurring the burning embers with his hind feet, and, as a natural sequence, is either found half roasted, or so injured that his death is inevitable