Badgers 79 



and Turk hear the shindy, and down they fly 

 to their pal. We bipeds scramble down as 

 best we can through briars, over boulders, 

 and slip into all manner of diabolical holes 

 and crevices ; and how on earth we reached 

 the scene of action without becoming fit and 

 proper subjects for a coroner and his jury, 

 goodness only knows. However, we got 

 there, and what do we see ? a struggling 

 mass of vitality rolling, twisting, and 

 tumbling about ; we hear a disgraceful 

 amount of dog swearing, and we smell 

 well, there's not a particle of doubt about it 

 we do smell an awful aroma, thick enough 

 to cut with a bread-knife, which is not Ess 

 Bouquet or Frangi-pani ; but not a sound 

 do we hear from Brock. (This, I should 

 mention, is the old Celtic name for the 

 badger, and is used to this day in Scotland 

 and the north of England.) He is " biding 

 a wee." Presently Habet ! for Blarney, in 



