charmingly laid out, the animals left free to roam about in their own little grassy paddocks. The pleasant shady walks are lined by the pretty Cape lilac, which in July is bare of leaves, but covered with clusters of yellow berries, very decorative in effect. These gardens lie on the far side of the Swan River, and a ferry-boat plies across its shining blue waters. Numbers of black and white water-fowl swim alongside, diving below and bobbing up again, or settling on a row of posts that run out from the shore, each one like a little black and white carved ornament. The gardens are a few minutes' walk from the landing stage. We found them charming, the darker evergreens everywhere lighted up by patches of golden wattle. The kangaroos and wallabies feeding in their little enclosures hop up and put gentle inquiring noses into your hand.
Perhaps it is because the little wild Australian animals are so pathetically confiding that they are becoming extinct. The authorities do all they can to preserve them, but it appears to be inevitable, though deplorable, that the native wild animals of Australia, charming little inoffensive creatures, are becoming rarer every year, in spite of large reserves or national parks, where everything is left untouched in its wild state. Unfortunately some of the most interest-
