THE BADGER AND OTHER PARASITES. 171 
Of all these beasts, I repeat, the best is good for nothing, 
only we must make an exception from the universal anathema in 
favor of the ferret, which is allied to man, and which has afforded 
liim useful assistance, by its antipathy for the rabbit. 
THE BADGER. 
This beast may, for many reasons, be ranked among the stinkers. 
It is provided with a membranous pouch ; it is an evil beast, fre- 
quenting dark places — more voracious, and almost as cunning as 
the fox — more carnivorous than the bear, but endowed like this 
creature with a very decided taste for fruits and honey. He is an 
inveterate thief of corn and grapes, getting up very late and going 
to bed in the daytime, and swallowing in a few hours with his om- 
nivoracious appetite and prodigious belly, an incredible quantity of 
provisions. 
All goes in — chickens, frogs, mice, fruits, grains. The pouches 
of the pickpocket taken in the act, the note-book of a banker, re- 
turning from the Exchange, after having bought shares in mani- 
fold speculations, can alone give an idea of the badger’s paunch, 
on his return from a nocturnal expedition. This wicked quadruped, 
with four short paws and a large belly — which levies rich spoils 
on the noble industry of the vine- grower and of the plowman ; that 
almost insatiable omnivorist, who sleeps when he is replete, and 
whose idleness sustains itself on rapine, is the perfect image of 
those commercial parasites who fatten and fill their purses at the 
expense of all producers. The spoil of the badger is useful for har- 
nesses, for utensils of the toilet, and for the pencil of artists. Its 
grease is employed as a remedy against rheumatic pains. That is 
to say, that agricultural industry, the fine arts, and general pros- 
perity have enormously to gain by the destruction of commercial 
parasitism. The banker continues to be unhappy in his analo- 
gies. Among insects, the spider and the tape- worm tell some hard 
stories of him. 
The badger, which never remains out, and which very early re- 
turns to its earth, can never be hunted by dogs. It must be at- 
tacked at home, unless a snare be deemed preferable. The at- 
