Dot and the Kangaroo by Ethel C. Pedley — Read

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The fourth day of Dot's wanderings in the Bush dawned brightly. The sun arose in a sky all gorgeous in gold and crimson, and flashed upon a world glittering with dewy freshness. Sweet odours from the aromatic bush filled the air, and every living creature made what noise it could, to show its joy in being happy and free in the beautiful Bush. Rich and gurgling came the note of the magpies, the jovial kookooburras saluted the sun with rollicking laughter, the crickets chirruped, frogs croaked in chorus, or solemnly "popped" in deep vibrating tones, like the ring of a woodman's axe. Every now and then came the shriek of the plover, or the shrill cry of the peeweet; and gayer and more lively than all others was the merry clattering of the big bush wagtail in the distance.

As soon as the Kangaroo heard the Bush Wagtail, she and Dot hurried away to find him. No Christy Minstrel rattling his bones ever made a merrier sound. "Click-i-ti-clack, click-i-ti-clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, click-i-ti-clack," he rattled away as fast as he could, just as if he hadn't a moment to waste for taking breath, and as if the whole lovely world was made for the enjoyment of Bush Wagtails.

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