The Tale of Benny Badger

by Arthur Scott Bailey

"It can't be a feather," said Mr. Fox, nervously brushing off his shoulder as he spoke.

"A feather!" Benny Badger exclaimed. "I've said nothing about a feather! But now that you speak of it, Mr. Fox, perhaps that's it."

Mr. Fox looked very, very uncomfortable. And he murmured something about "having to be on his way."

"Wait a moment!" said Benny, as Mr. Fox turned aside. "What's that on the back of your neck?"

Mr. Fox tried in vain to look at the back of his own neck.

"It can't be——" he began.

But before he could finish, Benny Badger interrupted him.

"Yes, it is!" he cried. "It's my teeth!"

And so saying, he seized Mr. Fox on the back of his neck and began to drag him over the grass.

It became clear, at once, that Mr. Fox did not enjoy the sport.