IN THE SHETLANDS 215 
with an energy and in a manner which suggested the 
fervent clasping of hands. Then they would scratch 
themselves with their fore feet lazily and sedately, 
raising their heads the while, looking extremely happy, 
having sometimes even a beatific expression. And 
then again they would curl themselves a little and 
roll more over, seeming to expatiate and almost lose 
themselves in large luxurious ease—more variety and 
expression about them lying thus dozing than one 
will see in many animals awake and active. 
Even in this little time I learnt that they were 
animals of a finely touched spirit, extremely playful, 
with a grand sense of humour and—once again— 
filled “ from the crown to the toe, top-full” of happi- 
ness. Thus one that came swimming up the little 
quiet bay, in quest of a rock to lie upon, seemed to 
delight in pretending to find first one and then another 
too steep and difficult to get up on to (for obviously 
they were not) and would fling himself off from them 
in a sort of little sham disappointment, gambolling 
and rolling about, twisting himself up with seaweed, 
and, generally, having a most lively solitary romp. 
A piece of bleached spar, some four or five feet long, 
happened—and I am glad that it happened—to be 
floating in the water at quite the other side of the 
creek, and, espying it, this delightful animal swam 
over to it and began to play with it as a kitten might 
with a reel of cotton or a ball of worsted. More: 
frolicsome, kitten-hearted, and withal intelligent play 
I never saw. He passed just underneath it, and, coming 
