"Well," said she, after listening to the little girl, "that is just like
you Humans; you are not fit for this country at all! Of course, if you
have only one home in one place, you must lose it! If you made your home
everywhere and anywhere, it would never be lost. Humans are no good in
our bush," she continued. "Just look at yourself now. How do you compare
with a Kangaroo? There is your ridiculous sham coat. Well, you have lost
bits of it all the way you have come to-day, and you're nearly left in
your bare skin. Now look at my coat. I've done ever so much more hopping
than you to-day, and you see I'm none the worse. I wonder why all your
fur grows upon the top of your head," she said reflectively, as she looked
curiously at Dot's long flaxen curls. "It's such a silly place to have
one's fur the thickest! You see, we have very little there; for we don't
want our heads made any hotter under the Australian sun. See how much
better off you would be, now that nearly all your sham coat is gone, if
that useless fur had been chopped into little, short lengths and spread
all over your poor bare body. I wonder why you Humans are made so badly,"
she ended, with a puzzled air.

Dot felt for a moment as if she ought to apologise for being so unfit for
the bush, and for having all the fur on the top of her head. But, somehow,
she had an idea that a little girl must be something better than a
kangaroo, although the Kangaroo certainly seemed a very superior person;
so she said nothing, but again began to eat the berries.

"You must not eat any more of these berries," said the Kangaroo, anxiously.

"Why?" asked Dot, "they are very nice, and I'm very hungry."

The Kangaroo gently took the spray out of Dot's hand, and threw it away.
"You see," she said, "if you eat too many of them, you'll know too much."