"Ge--Ge--get the badger and make little Hartopp happy. Ma--ma--make
'em all happy," sobbed McTurk, groping for the door and kicking the
prostrate Beetle before him.

They found the beast in an evil-smelling box, left two half-crowns for
payment, and staggered home. Only the badger grunted most marvelous
like Colonel Dabney, and they dropped him twice or thrice with
shrieks of helpless laughter. They were but imperfectly recovered
when Foxy met them by the Fives Court with word that they were to go
up to their dormitory and wait till sent for.

"Well, take this box to Mr. Hartopp's rooms, then. We've done
something for the Natural History Society, at any rate," said Beetle.

"'Fraid that won't save you, young gen'elmen," Foxy answered, in an
awful voice. He was sorely ruffled in his mind.

"All sereno, Foxibus." Stalky had reached the extreme stage of
hiccups. "We--we'll never desert you, Foxy. Hounds choppin' foxes in
cover is more a proof of vice, ain't it?... No, you're right.
I'm--I'm not quite well."

"They've gone a bit too far this time," Foxy thought to himself. "Very
far gone, _I'd_ say, excep' there was no smell of liquor. An' yet it
isn't like 'em--somehow. King and Prout they 'ad their dressin'-down
same as me. That's one comfort."

"Now, we must pull up," said Stalky, rising from the bed on which he
had thrown himself. "We're injured innocence--as usual. We don't know