-on, when she was accustomed to be handled, there was no biting, no matter how
or where I took hold of her. Fat, round, jolly, and good-tempered concisely
describe her figure and her character. With the exception of that already mentioned,
uncooked meat was never given to Sally in early life ; that is to say, not until she
was eight or nine years old, and then only when a rabbit was given to a wild
Badger from the South of England that lived in the same house. Dog biscuits
and the bones of cooked meat kept her in fine coat and condition.
‘ Sally had a wild serenading lover of her own, daring and devoted to a
degree—too daring indeed for the deep bass voice of the yard dog to inspire any
terror. No one ever saw this brave Badger arrive, but many saw his hurried
departures. Could the hieroglyphics he left upon the slate doorstep only have
been deciphered, his tale of love touchingly told might have turned the tide in
his favour, instead of a contemplated alliance with a Somersetshire Brock. This
matchmaking of mine, as I might have expected, found no favour with Sally, and
she gave the Somerset swain hot only the cold shoulder but the outside of the
kennel too. It was not until Sally had more than once returned to me, weary
and wet after having been out slugging for hours, that I was convinced that she
would never leave me in preference for a wild natural life of liberty. She would
come into the house at all times to ijgok for me, and once appeared while we were
at dinner. Another time I had almost given her up for lost; she had been out
for some hours, and I went to fix her yard door open more firmly, when to my
delight the barrel which served as a kennel shook from side to side; she was back
and busy drying herself. Out she came, so flurried and so fussy, such a lot to
tell me about her long lonely ramble without me to run to when she got frightened.
Yet Sally was not nervous, as one might have expected, with ordinary gentle dogs.
She scampered about and played beautifully with a collie. I f the collie got too
familiarly pawmg her about, she made no attempt to snap or bite, but just drew
up her back in a dignified way as if 0 s a y , “ I shall not play if you will not
observe the rules.” And old Tich seemed to know at once her playmate's meaning,
and waited until Sally made the first move to continue the game, and then off
they went round and round until Tich in her excitement again forgot the rules.
•In Sally's public life one important r6Ie she played was that of drag to a
pack of hounds;..: I used to take her for a long walk, after giving strict injunctions
that the hounds should not be unkennelled until I came to say Sally was safe in
her yard; and as a further safeguard, notwithstanding her tremendous weight, I
always carried her the first and last part of the way. She weighed twenty-Lix
pounds at her best (or rather worst, for it was most difficult to keep her down),
and was a solid dead weight most tiring to carry, though she kept quite still and
often fell asleep under my cape. I f one of my brothers touched her, even through
a thick tweed cape, she resented the liberty and snuffled angrily; but, as before
stated, she was well-behaved with strangers so long as they observed the rules and
abstained from touching her. Though she was constantly in request for exhibition
to visitors, she never showed a sign of hurting anyone who let her alone. There
seemed to be a weird fascination about her society which made people say at first
they wished to see her, and then repent having said so. I remember once being
eagerly asked to show my tame Badger, and Sally was no sooner in the room
than the family lawyer and one or two other men were to be seen perched in a
row upon the high back of an old-fashioned sofa, like so many rooks; quite
unnecessary nimbleness on their part, for she ignored everyone but myself,
and gambolled over and over and played in a frivolous way quite unknown
to those writers who describe the Badger as an uninteresting, heavy, and slothful
animal.
‘ It is true that I never thought of calling upon Sally until late in the
afternoon or early in the evening, because I knew she would not until then be,
so to speak, “ at home” to me, if she had her choice. When taken out in the
morning she followed with great care and caution close to me, while at night her
lively tricks were delightful, romping round and round until she was quite out of
breath; her puppy-like playfulness never left her even when she grew old. When
winter came she was more sleepy by day and not nearly s,o lively by night,
feeding only at intervals of two or three days; indeed the one favourite paw
which was almost invariably in a sticky state at this season, from her habit of
sucking it while asleep, seemed to supply almost sufficient nourishment for her.
She was perfectly clean and well-behaved in the house. I used to bring her in
on wet days, but after exploring the room for a time and looking inquiringly at
the stuffed birds, she rolled herself up at my feet with a sigh which I feel sure
was one of content, and not only slept but snored.’
Considering the small number of Badgers annually captured in comparison
with the enormous number of other British wild animals, albinism may be said
to be almost common. I have examined eight or ten such varieties, the usual
colour being a pale straw with dark and sometimes pink eyes. Mr. Walter
Rothschild has a beautiful specimen, and recently visitors to the Zoological
Gardens, Regent’s Park, had an opportunity of seeing a pale straw-coloured