Extracts From Adam’s Diary by Mark Twain

understanding it. In my judgment it is either an enigma or some

kind of a bug. If it dies, I will take it apart and see what its

arrangements are. I never had a thing perplex me so.

Three Months Later

The perplexity augments instead of diminishing. I sleep but little.

It has ceased from lying around, and goes about on its four legs

now. Yet it differs from the other four-legged animals in that

its front legs are unusually short, consequently this causes the

main part of its person to stick up uncomfortably high in the air,

and this is not attractive. It is built much as we are, but its

method of travelling shows that it is not of our breed. The short

front legs and long hind ones indicate that it is of the kangaroo

family, but it is a marked variation of the species, since the

true kangaroo hops, whereas this one never does. Still, it is a

curious and interesting variety, and has not been catalogued before.

As I discovered it, I have felt justified in securing the credit

of the discovery by attaching my name to it, and hence have called

it Kangaroorum Adamiensis. … It must have been a young one

when it came, for it has grown exceedingly since. It must be five

times as big, now, as it was then, and when discontented is able

to make from twenty-two to thirty-eight times the noise it made

at first. Coercion does not modify this, but has the contrary

effect. For this reason I discontinued the system. She reconciles

it by persuasion, and by giving it things which she had previously

told it she wouldn’t give it. As already observed, I was not at

home when it first came, and she told me she found it in the woods.

It seems odd that it should be the only one, yet it must be so,

for I have worn myself out these many weeks trying to find another

one to add to my collection, and for this one to play with; for

surely then it would be quieter, and we could tame it more easily.

But I find none, nor any vestige of any; and strangest of all, no

tracks. It has to live on the ground, it cannot help itself;

therefore, how does it get about without leaving a track? I have

set a dozen traps, but they do no good. I catch all small animals

except that one; animals that merely go into the trap out of

curiosity, I think, to see what the milk is there for. They never

drink it.

Three Months Later

The kangaroo still continues to grow, which is very strange and

perplexing. I never knew one to be so long getting its growth.

It has fur on its head now; not like kangaroo fur, but exactly

like our hair, except that it is much finer and softer, and instead

of being black is red. I am like to lose my mind over the capricious

and harassing developments of this unclassifiable zoological freak.

If I could catch another one–but that is hopeless; it is a new

variety, and the only sample; this is plain. But I caught a true

kangaroo and brought it in, thinking that this one, being lonesome,

would rather have that for company than have no kin at all, or any

animal it could feel a nearness to or get sympathy from in its

forlorn condition here among strangers who do not know its ways

or habits, or what to do to make it feel that it is among friends;

but it was a mistake–it went into such fits at the sight of the

kangaroo that I was convinced it had never seen one before. I

pity the poor noisy little animal, but there is nothing I can do

to make it happy. If I could tame it–but that is out of the

question; the more I try, the worse I seem to make it. It grieves

me to the heart to see it in its little storms of sorrow and

passion. I wanted to let it go, but she wouldn’t hear of it. That

seemed cruel and not like her; and yet she may be right. It might

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