EDUCATED SEALS—TAME FISH, ETC.  
At the Zoological Gardens in London, and at several places on the continent, seals have been exhibited which had been taught to perform a number of tricks. The first “learned seal” which appeared in this country was one exhibited first at Barnum’s old Museum, on the corner of Broadway and Ann street, and afterward in various parts of the country. Ned, as he was called, was quite a philosopher in his way, and submitted gracefully to the change from his secluded haunts on the icy shores of Greenland, to the excitements of a public life.
Seals are naturally docile and intelligent, but skill in grinding a hand organ is scarcely a gift which comes by nature, and even in the case of Ned it was necessary to stimulate his musical taste before he became an adept on that instrument. This stimulus was the same as that to which we owe the curb-stone performances of modern Romans—hunger.
He had before this learned of his own accord to come up out of the water on the appearance of his keeper. He was kept in a large tank, or box, one half of which held the water, while the other half was floored over forming a platform on which he was exhibited. From this platform an inclined plane, formed of planks, led down into the water. Around the edge of the tank and platform a wooden railing extended, and in one corner of this enclosure was kept a tin box containing the fish with which the seal was fed. When the seal was first exhibited his keeper was in the habit of taking a fish from this box at each half-hourly exhibition, and tossing it to the seal who would come partly out of the water and open his mouth to catch it when he saw it in the keeper’s hand. This box had a lid to prevent Ned helping himself, and the seal soon learned that the noise of opening the box was followed by his getting a fish; so before long it was only necessary to tap on the lid to make him come up on the platform.
There was one trick which Ned invented himself, and used to perform to his own great satisfaction. He always liked to be able to see his keeper, but visitors often crowded around the tank so much as to obstruct his view. When this happened, Ned had a way of beating vigorously about in the water and splashing the offending spectators so that they were glad to withdraw to a more respectful distance. This afforded considerable fun to the attachés of the museum, who had discovered 182Ned’s little game, while, we believe, visitors never suspected that their ducking was anything more than mere accident.
The first feat he was taught was to sit up on his hind quarters. This was easily accomplished by holding a fish in the air as an encouragement for the seal to keep an erect position. More difficulty was experienced in teaching him to play the organ. Day after day his paw was placed on the handle, while the trainer industriously turned the crank and held Ned’s paw in position at the same time. Ever and anon the man would remove his hand to see if the seal continued the motion, but down would flop Ned’s paw and he would gaze vacantly at the instrument without the least apparent consciousness of what was to be done. But by-and-by there was a little hesitation in the paw and it did not drop quite so promptly on the trainer’s hand being removed. Then Ned got a little fish. The next time the paw lingered quite perceptibly on the handle, and there was just the faintest movement toward turning the crank. Then Ned got a bigger fish, which he undoubtedly relished exceedingly, for all this time he had been on short allowance. So it went on, the seal grinding a few notes, increasing their number each time and being rewarded with fish, until he had learned to roll out the full supply of tunes the instrument afforded, though his “time” would have puzzled a musician, his efforts being to grind at the greatest possible speed, and we feel safe in asserting that his “Old Hundred” was the fastest thing on record. After every exhibition he was rewarded with fish.
 
NED, THE “LEARNED SEAL.”
Quite a number of instances are recorded where seals have been tamed without any design of public exhibition. A writer in the London Field gives some curious details of his own experiment. He says:
“When a boy, I was presented by some fishermen with one 183apparently not more than a fortnight old, which in a few weeks became perfectly tame and domesticated, would follow me about, eat from my hand, and showed unmistakable signs of recognition and attachment whenever I approached. It was fond of heat, and would lie for hours at the kitchen fire, raising its head to look at every new comer, but never attempting to bite, and would nestle close to the dogs, who soon became quite reconciled to their new friend. Unfortunately the winter after I obtained it was unusually rough and stormy. Upon that wild coast boats could seldom put to sea, and the supply of fish became scanty and precarious. We were obliged to substitute milk in its place, of which the seal consumed large quantities, and as the scarcity of other food still continued, it was determined, in a family council, that it should be consigned to its own element, to shift for itself. Accompanied by a clergyman, who took a great interest in my pet, I rowed out for a couple of miles to sea, and dropped it quietly overboard. Very much to our astonishment, however, we found that it was not so easy to shake it off. Fast as we pulled away it swam still faster after the boat, crying all the time so loudly that it might easily have been heard a mile away, and so pitifully that we were obliged to take it in again and bring it home.”
A somewhat similar story is told in Maxwell’s Wild Sports of the West, where may be found a very interesting and touching narrative of a tamed seal, which lived for several years with a family, and which, although it was repeatedly taken out to sea in a boat and thrown overboard, always found its way back again to the house which it loved, even contriving to creep through an open window and to gain access to the warm fireside.
In the Jardin des Plantes, in Paris, there was, for some time, a specimen of the marbled seal. Two little dogs, in the same enclosure, amused themselves by mounting on its back, barking, and even biting it—all of which the seal took in good part. Sometimes it would pat them with its paw; but this seemed intended more to encourage than to repress their gambols. I............