His huge right paw, with its long claws, was as clever as a human hand.

The stone lifted, a sniff or two, a lick of his hot, flat tongue, and he ambled on to the next.
He took this work with tremendous seriousness, much like an elephant hunting for peanuts hidden in a bale of hay.

He saw no humour in the operation.

As a matter of fact, Nature had not intended there should be any humour about it.

Thor's time was more or less valueless, and during the course of a summer he absorbed in his system a good many hundred thousand sour ants, sweet grubs, and juicy insects of various kinds, not to mention a host of gophers and still tinier rock-rabbits.