Ornithological Observations and Reflections in Shetland. 369 
in something like practical joking.* A practical joke, when 
effective, generally presents some salient antagonism between 
what is expected to happen and what does happen — between 
the is and the ought to be — and this, in effect, is the pivot upon 
which some very advanced humour turns. The inimitable 
Bab Ballads may be appealed to in illustration of this conten- 
tion, and the same sense of contrast, more subtly evoked, is 
often the ultimate cause of why we smile when reading Shakes- 
peare or Cervantes. From the crudest and silliest practical 
jokes, one may pass by degrees, to those exhibiting humour of 
a less low — sometimes, indeed, of a high kind, but if the gap 
between a bird and man, in this kind of perception, be deemed 
unbridgeable, then for the latter let us substitute a dog, which 
sounds much less extravagant. Now a dog, as Darwin has 
observed, will lie down with his master’s stick in his mouth 
till he comes to take it from him, then race away with it, lie 
down again, and repeat. From an unexpected push, to this, 
the interval does not seem quite so enormous, and if our Shag 
were to pass it, it is not only dogs he would have caught up to. 
Many a man’s sense of humour is no more developed ; indeed 
some men and numbers of women, have, apparently none, 
so that, after all, no bridge is required. 
Oct. 4th. — Watched a Herring Gull feeding in a very inter- 
esting manner. The tide was low, and still falling, and as the 
heads of rocks and floating fronds of seaweed appeared above 
it, the Gull would sometimes swim towards them, peer at them, 
as though looking for something, then sheer off again, and 
keep turning and tacking from side to side, directing always a 
piercing glance down into the water, as it seemed, and not 
upon its surface. It seemed in constant readiness to strike, 
every now and then nodding forward with its head as though 
about to do so, and then retreating it again, the opportunity 
being lost. Always there was the same indeterminate course, 
seeming to be governed by a general, but not by any special 
plan. All at once, after peering eagerly forward, it rose on 
the wing, a little above the water, and then plunged, beak 
foremost into it, its head and shoulders being submerged. When 
it reappeared, it was swallowing something which it had 
seized under the water. It then swam about again, as before, 
and, in a minute or two, rose and plunged again — this time 
more violently and from a greater height — two or three feet 
perhaps. It again emerged with something, but I could not, 
any more than the first time, see what it was — fish, crab, 
mussel or barnacle. From the way, however, in which the Gull 
often made ready to rise, but desisted, as though the object 
aimed at were gone, I judged it to be one of the two former. 
* And this, again, in the torture of one’s enemies. 
1914 Dec. 1. 
