The Cleveland Fox-hounds at Exercise.
From a photograph of Mr. Heywood Hardy’s picture, “A Summer’s Day in Cleveland.”
First: “Oh—er—a badger is an animal that lives in the water, something like a seal.”
Second: “No, no! That’s an otter. I know what an otter is. A badger is more like a ferret or weasel.”
First: “Yes, I believe you’re right, but I fancy it’s larger than that.”
Second: “How big would you say?”
First: “Oh, I don’t know exactly, but nearly as big as a hare.”
Second: “Oh, of course! They used to bait badgers with dogs; they must be larger than a ferret.”
And so they went on, much to my amusement; and when they had set up their badger, I rather cruelly knocked it over, and gave them a little elementary education on the badger and his ways. Now, these two persons had both of them a natural disposition to be interested in badgers, and, astounding as is the ignorance of thousands who are fond of animal life, it requires but a very few words to arouse their interest in the rarer species of wild animals that we can still boast of as British.
The fact is, since the cruel and brutalising sport of badger-baiting has been stamped out, the badger has been forgotten except by a few naturalists, sportsmen, and by the gamekeeper. Being neither furred nor feathered game, the keeper, of course (where his master’s wishes to the contrary are not expressed), treats him as vermin and wages war on all his tribe. With all their good qualities, keepers are too apt to consider that nothing but game has any right to live in an English covert.