A nearly pure white example.

The group of the Phalanger Family popularly known as Flying-squirrels, or more correctly as Flying-phalangers, is almost universally admitted to include some of the most beautiful of living mammals. In external structure, so far as their peculiar so-called "flying" mechanism is concerned, these animals coincide in a remarkable manner with the true flying-squirrels, belonging to the Rodent Order, indigenous to the Asiatic and American Continents. In neither instance is there flight, in the true sense of the term, similar to that of birds and bats, but the fore and hind limbs are connected by a parachute-like membrane, which, outstretched when the animal leaps from tree to tree, buoys it up and enables its owner to traverse, in a straight and gradually descending line only, very considerable distances.

The smaller squirrel-like form common to the south-eastern districts of Australia, and on account of its predilection for sweets commonly known as the Sugar-squirrel, makes a most charming little pet. For the most part addicted to sleep, and impatient at being disturbed during the day, towards sundown it wakes up, and is full of frolic. One such example was the writer's travelling companion for a considerable interval in Western Australia. While remaining packed conveniently away in a small box throughout the day, it was accustomed to enjoy the liberty of whatever apartment its owner occupied in the evening and throughout the night, returning of its own accord to its sleeping-box with the approach of dawn. On one exceptional occasion, however, Master Tiny, as this individual was named, was missing in the morning from his accustomed crib, and a prolonged search and examination of every corner and article of furniture that could afford shelter failed to recover him. That the little creature was lost through some one having unwittingly left the door of the apartment open, permitting its escape, was the only and much-deplored conclusion that could be arrived at. Towards evening, however, there was a slight rustle close at hand, and Master Tiny was discovered emerging, like Minerva from the head of Jupiter, from the top of one of the old-fashioned china dogs that decorated the hotel-room mantelpiece. The ornament, seemingly intact from the front, had the back of the head battered in. Through the resulting crevice the little animal had managed to squeeze itself, having come to the conclusion, doubtless, that this newly chosen retreat more nearly resembled the cavernous shelter of its native tree-spout than its accustomed artificially constructed box. This singular domicile Master Tiny was permitted to monopolise for the remainder of his sojourn at that hostelry. One of the favourite diversions of this little phalanger during the evenings was to climb up the curtain and cornice of the room he occupied, and thence hurl himself through the air with outspread parachute to the writer at the opposite end. The apartment, happening to be the commercial room of the hotel, some thirty feet in length, gave him good scope for exercising his characteristic flying leaps. The attitude invariably maintained during these flights is aptly illustrated in the accompanying photograph; the body is never poised with the head inclined downwards, as is commonly depicted in artists' fancy sketches of the animal contained in popular natural histories. A friend of the writer's in Tasmania, who kept one of these flying-phalangers as a household pet, was accustomed to leave a crevice of the window open at night, so that the little fellow could go in and out as it liked. After the manner of most pets, however, a day arrived upon which its box was found vacant, a marauding cat or other disaster having apparently compassed its untimely end.

Photo by W. Saville-Kent, F.Z.S.] [Milford-on-Sea.

LESSER FLYING-PHALANGER.

Illustrating position maintained during its remarkable flying leaps.

Photo by W. Saville-Kent, F.Z.S.] [Milford-on-Sea.

PYGMY FLYING-PHALANGER.