The badger, it is true, has done no harm.

He has been doing as it was appointed for him to do, poor badger, in that hole of his.

But then, why were badgers created but to be drawn?
Why, indeed, but to be drawn, or not to be drawn, as the case may be?
See! the bull-dog returns minus an ear, with an eye hanging loose, his nether lip torn off, and one paw bitten through and through.
Limping, dejected, beaten, glaring fearfully from his one remaining eye, the dog comes out; and the badger within rolls himself up with affected ease, hiding his bloody wounds from the public eye.
So it is that the sport is played in Hampshire; and so also at Westminster--with a difference, however.

In Hampshire the two brutes retain ever their appointed natures.

The badger is always a badger, and the bull-dog never other than a bull-dog.