We tax the patience of poor Meles-Taxus,
Until he turns with tooth and claws and whacks us.
The natural home of Taxus—the Exchequer—
Harbours a creature that keeps up its pecker.
"For the purpose of so-called 'sport,' the Badger used to be captured and put into a cage ready to be tormented; at the cruel will of every ruffian who might chose to risk his dog against the sharp teeth of the captive animal."
This particular sort of "sport" is a little out of date. But "drawing a Badger" is not unknown even in these humanitarian days. Dogs will sometimes voluntarily rush in to risk their hides and muzzles against the aforesaid sharp teeth, &c. Look at those in the picture!
The two small, if aggressive, terriers seem unequally matched against the "clumsy" but strong-jawed and terribly-toothed Badger. They have drawn him, indeed, out of his hole, and one of them, at least, seems rather sorry for it, if you may judge by the way in which he turns tail and makes for his protector, the big Bull-Terrier. The ventripotent broken-haired tyke looks more valorous—for the moment. Yap! yap! yap! Meles-Taxus takes little notice of him, however. His eyes are on that sturdy specimen of Canis familiaris there, whose bold eyes in turn are on him. Both, perhaps, experience—
That stern joy which warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their steel."
"Drawn by those two tiny yelpers? Not a bit of it! But you, my complacent canine Colossus—come on if you dare!" And he does dare, evidently. Whether he'll regret his daring remains to be seen.