from the fells had their tracks through the woods. A primitive mansion had once stood in the wood, but now was gone. It had been large, and green mounds, now laid low, marked out its dimensions. Old oak-panelling, with long-gone dates, were sometimes dug up, and these were covered with carvings--"carvings quaint and curious, all made out of the carver's brain." Lying around this had been an extensive orchard, the rich, though old trees of which remained. And now, in this glorious summer-time, the golden fruit fell unheeded to the ground. For Hazelhurst was long distant from town or nearest village. Brambles held their luscious fruit, and every species of ground berry grew there. No wonder it was a paradise to mice and squirrels and birds. They revelled in nature's ample provision, and were undisturbed. Here, in the days of our immediate ancestors, Badgers were plentiful. Now, where a ridge of rock ran through the wood, there was a hole, the entrance to a somewhat spacious cavity. This could be seen for the seeking, not otherwise. Brambles and ground-ivy protected it. Black bryony and woodbine twisted up every available stem, and a knot of blackthorn grew over all. The spot was protected and dense. One day we invaded it, but after long crawling and sticking fast had to return. In it lived the badgers--had done so time out of mind, and the few poachers who knew it called it "Brock-holes." "Brock" is the old north-country word for badger, and, as we have said, everything testified to its presence. In this wild fruit paradise at least two pairs of badgers bred. Each pair had more than one apartment--at least the young were not produced in that which formed the general abode. These were at the ends of the burrow, where were the beds, composed of roots and dried grass. The young were brought forth in April, and after about six weeks might have been seen sitting about the mouth of their hole, or accompanying their dam to short distances when on her evening rambles. We always found the badgers unoffending, harmless creatures unless first attacked. They fed almost entirely on roots, wild fruit, grain, and occasionally insects. They were, however, extremely shy and wary. Beautiful it was to see these creatures on summer evenings searching for food among the low bushes, occasionally giving a low grunt when some favourite root was turned up. When insects came within their reach they were snapped up somewhat after the manner of a dog catching flies. The life of the badger is eminently that of a peaceful creature, harmless in all its ways, unoffending, interesting in its life-history, useful, and, above all, fitted with a quiet contentment almost human. The body of the badger is long and heavy and its legs short, which give it an awkward shambling appearance when running. Its beautifully-shaped head has two long lines running from the snout to the tips of the ears. The upper parts of its body are light grey,