62 EARS 



to its ear. I never saw one doing so, but we do 

 not see everything that happens in the world. 

 The sea-lion, with its stouter limbs, can lift its 

 forepart, raise its head and look about it, and 

 even flop about the ice-fields at a respectable 

 rate. And there is no doubt that one of these 

 is as much above an earless seal as fifty years of 

 Europe are better than a cycle of Cathay. When 

 performing seals are exhibited at a circus sitting on 

 chairs, catching balls on the points of their noses 

 and playing diabolo with them, or balancing billiard 

 cues on their snouts, and doing other miraculous 

 things, they are always sea-lions, not common seals. 

 Of course, I do not mean to insinuate that sea-lions 

 invented the ear and stuck it on : that would be 

 unscientific ; but I mean that their general intelli- 

 gence and interest in affairs created that demand 

 for more distinct hearing which led to the develop- 

 ment of an ear trumpet. This view is wholly 

 scientific, though pedants may quarrel with my way 

 of putting it. 



The sea-lion's ears are very minute, mere apologies 

 one might think ; but don't be hasty. The finny 

 prey of the sea-lion makes no sound as it skims 

 through the water ; and perhaps the padded foot 

 of that stealthy garrotter, the Polar bear, makes 

 as little on the smooth ice ; for catching the one 

 and not being caught by the other the sea-lion must 

 trust to the keenness of its great goggle eyes. But 

 it is a social beast, and it wants to catch the bellow- 



