"I wants it done, and over. I wants a end of these liberties took with my place. I wants a end of being drawed like a badger."
You repeat, silently, the spell taught to you by Aunt Farfalee (who is by now no bigger than a badger, with blank white eyes and fingers as thin and stiff as icicles).
'Gus had a tent. I imagine he's happy as a badger. They're probably just sitting there playing cards.'
'I find that we can't put any in Badger's Clump to-night, Lizzy,' said Owlett. 'The place is watched.'
'I can stay here for months,' he answered quietly. 'Months, you understand. I and my friend are going to study the habits and diet of the badger.
"What are you reading?" he asked.
"Rogue Male. Geoffrey Household. It's about a man who tried to assassinate Hitler, or someone who's exactly like Hitler."
"Is it good?"
"Very good, though it really seems to be about wriggling down into the heart of the British countryside. Third act all seems to take place inside a hedgerow, down a badger hole."
The animals well knew that Badger, having eaten a hearty breakfast, had retired to his study and settled himself in an arm-chair with his legs up on another and a red cotton handkerchief over his face, and was being 'busy' in the usual way at this time of the year.