nd. It
certainly bears some resemblance to a pig about the snout and cheeks;
and that, with its bristly hair and burrowing habits, has no doubt
given rise to the mistaken name. The "ground" part of the title is from
the fact that it is a burrowing animal,--indeed, one of the best
"terriers" in the world. It can make its way under ground, faster than
the spade can follow it, and faster than any badger. In size, habits,
and the form of many parts of its body, it bears a striking resemblance
to its South American cousin the "tamanoir," which of late years has
become so famous as almost to usurp the title of "ant-eater."

But the "aard-vark" is just as good an ant-eater as he,--can "crack" as
thick-walled a house, can rake up and devour as many termites as any
"ant-bear" in the length and breadth of the Amazon Valley. He has got,
moreover, as "tall" a tail as the tamanoir, very nearly as long a snout,
a mouth equally small, and a tongue as extensive and extensile. In claws
he can compare with his American cousin any day, and can walk just as
awkwardly upon the sides of his fore-paws with "toes turned in."

Why, then, may I ask, do we hear so much talk of the "tamanoir," while
not a word is said of the "aard-vark?" Every museum and menagerie is
bragging about having a specimen of the former, while not one cares to
acknowledge their possession of the latter! Why this envious
distinction? I say it's all Barnum. It's because the "aard-vark's" a
Dutchman--a Cape boer--and the boers have been much bullied of late.
That's the reason why zoologists and showmen have treated my
thick-tailed boy so shabbily. But it shan't be so any longer; I stand up
for the aard-vark; and, although the tamanoir has been specially called
_Myrmecophaga_, or ant-eater, I say that the _Orycteropus_ is as good an
ant-eater as he.

He can break through ant-hills quite as big and bigger--some of them
twenty feet high--he can project as long and as gluey a tongue--twenty
inches long--he can play it as nimbly and "lick up" as many white ants,
as any tamanoir. He can grow as fat too, and weigh as heavy, and, what
is greatly to his credit, he can provide you with a most delicate roast
when you choose to kill and eat him. It is true he tastes slightly of
formid acid, but that is just the flavour that epicures admire. And when
you come to speak of "hams,"--ah! try his! Cure them well and properly,
and eat one, and you will never again talk of "Spanish" or
"Wes