the troublesome creature had to be sent back to Jamrach, the great animal importer of Liverpool, from whom it was purchased originally.
There were two other curiosities—a pair of armadillos which, under the idea that they were harmless, had the run of the garden. They, too, seemed to have caught the contagion for mischief. Now and then our neighbour's garden would be found to have large heaps of earth thrown up, and some of his choicest plants lying waste over the beds. This was the work of the armadillos. As in the racoon escapades, letters of complaint were received, and so baits were laid for the pests in the form of bits of beef saturated with prussic acid. The beef disappeared, and so, it was hoped, had the armadillos; but no—after about three months they reappeared in a sadly mangy and out-at-elbows state; they had evidently shed their scales during their absence, and new ones were forming. I suppose that after taking the dose of poison, feeling the worse for it, they must have betaken themselves to a hospital, and were just discharged as convalescent. Very soon after their return, I am sorry to say they slid back into their old mischievous habits, and at last had to be made over to the Zoological Gardens, where no doubt they were better guarded.
Amongst this curious collection of odd animals were a couple of kangaroos—mother and son. As far as my observation went, I do not think they lived on very good terms with each other. At any rate, the mother was
