ing!" he says, in a manner of a moderately old acquaintance. But
see next time; he is an old, intimate friend by this; a chum. He flings
his fin-flappers upon the coping, leans toward the bars with an
expansive grin and says: "Well, old boy, and how are you?"--as cordially
and as loudly as possible without absolutely speaking the words. He will
stay thus for a few moments' conversation, not entirely uninfluenced, I
fear, by anticipations of fish. Then, in the case of your not being in
the habit of carrying raw fish in your pockets, he takes his leave by
the short process of falling headlong into his pond and flinging a good
deal of it over you. There is no difficulty in becoming acquainted with
Toby. If you will only wait a few minutes he will slop his pond over you
with all the genial urbanity of an intimate relation. But you must wait
for the proper forms of etiquette.

[Illustration: "CAUGHT, SIR!"]

[Illustration: FANNY.]

The seal's sloppiness is annoying. I would have a tame seal myself if he
could go about without setting things afloat. A wet seal is unpleasant
to pat and fondle, and if he climbs on your knees he is positively
irritating. I suppose even a seal would get dry if you kept him out of
water long enough; but _can_ you keep a seal out of water while there is
any within five miles for him to get into? And would the seal respect
you for it if you did? A dog shakes himself dry after a swim, and, if he
be your own dog, he shakes the water over somebody else, which is
sagacious and convenient; but a seal doesn't shake himself, and can't
understand that wet will lower the value of any animal's caresses.
Otherwise a seal would often be preferable to a dog as a domestic pet.
He doesn't howl all night. He never attempts to chase cats--seeing the
hopelessness of the thing. You don't need a license for him; and there
is little temptation to a loafer to steal him, owing to the restricted
market for house-seals. I have frequently heard of a dog being engaged
to field in a single-wicket cricket match. I should like to play
somebody a single-wicket cricket match, with a dog and a seal to field
for me. The seal, having no legs to speak of--merely feet--would have to
leave the running to the dog, but it _could_ catch. You may see
magnificent catching here when Toby and Fanny--the Cape sea-lion (or
lioness), over by the turkeys--have their snacks of fish. Sutton the
Second, who is Keeper of the Seals (which is a fine t