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know!’ said Dorinda. ‘A kangaroo!’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Dinah. ‘Of course the usual thing for a kangaroo to carry in its pouch is a baby, but I don’t see why it shouldn’t do equally well for a note-book and a pocket-handkerchief and a toothbrush and some chocolate and anything else we may need.’
    â€˜We shall be far better off than the ordinary kind of animal,’ said Dorinda, ‘and the village people will get a terrible fright when they see us coming up the street, jumping twenty feet at a time.’
    â€˜We’ll make them climb trees again,’ said Dinah.
    â€˜It’s going to be a lot of fun,’ said Dorinda. ‘But don’t you feel a little bit strange to think that by this time to-morrow you’ll be a kangaroo?’
    â€˜Just a little,’ said Dinah.
    â€˜When do we drink the magic draught? Now?’
    â€˜In the morning, after breakfast. And now let us go home and pack. Well, not exactly pack, because we haven’t got anything to put stuff into yet.’
    â€˜I do feel excited,’ exclaimed Dorinda, and just before they reached home she stopped and very solemnly said: ‘I have often wondered what I shall be when I grow up, whether a teacher of dancing, or a circus rider, or a mother of ten, but never, never, never did I expect to be a kangaroo!’

Chapter Six
    In the Police Court at Midmeddlecum, Mr. Justice Rumple was trying Mrs. Taper the draper’s wife for attempting to commit a felony, to wit, Larceny: that is to say, in ordinary language, for trying to steal two pairs of silk stockings. Mr. Justice Rumple sat on a kind of throne with the Union Jack above it, a picture of Britannia, another of the Duke of Wellington, and a Latin motto that said: Fiat Justitia Ruat Coelum . This terrible motto meant:

    Amid Thunder and Lightning and Earthquakes and Hail,
    I shall sit here just waiting to send you to gaol!
    The Judge was wearing a red robe and a new wig covered with beautiful white curls, and he looked very magnificent.
    Mrs. Taper, in the dock with a warder beside her, was weeping bitterly. Mr. Taper had just brought her a dozen new handkerchiefs, straight from the shop, and she had already used three of them.
    The Counsel for the Prosecution was Mr. Hobson, and the Counsel for the Defence was Mr. Jobson. They were great friends, and they took it in turn to win cases. Mr. Hobson used to win on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and Mr. Jobson on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. But this arrangement, of course, had to be kept a very strict secret, or nobody would ever have paid Mr. Jobson to defend him on a Monday, a Wednesday, or a Friday. This was a Thursday, and Mr. Hobson and Mr. Jobson were therefore both agreed that Mrs. Taper should be declared Not Guilty. But nothing went as they intended.
    Mr. Hobson—Counsel for the Prosecution—said to Mrs. Taper: ‘Did you intend to steal those stockings, Mrs. Taper?’
    â€˜No!’ said Mrs. Taper indignantly.
    â€˜Oh!’ said Mr. Hobson, pretending to be very disappointed. ‘I thought you did! What a pity! Well, that is a pity! Because if you’re not guilty, I’m afraid I can’t think of anything else to say.’
    And sitting down again, he took a large pinch of snuff.
    But Mr. Justice Rumple, who was in a bad temper, shouted at Mr. Hobson, ‘Then you’re a poor fish! A very poor fish indeed, sir!’ And to Mrs. Taper he roared, ‘What are you crying for, if you’re not guilty?’
    This made Mrs. Taper cry louder than ever, which created a bad impression on the large audience.
    Then Mr. Jobson—Counsel for the Defence—made a very good speech indeed. It was so good that every now and then Mr. Hobson clapped his hands and exclaimed, ‘Well said, Jobson! Oh, well expressed, sir!’ It was such a magnificent speech that all the people who had come to listen to the trial, and were sitting in