The Clever Hare.
"To be hunted, and trapped, and watched for by night, and—and—I don't know what, is most abominable!" said the Hare.
Some dogs had frightened him, and he had run—run like a hare, in fact, and then sat down upon his form to think. The dogs had not stood upon ceremony, so he didn't choose to stand upon forms, but sat down comfortably.
He twitched his ears, and scratched his wig, and thought.
"And I won't put up with it—there," said he, aloud. "It's only cowardice putting up with things. I'll get some fellows to help me, and we'll hunt the dogs."
At that moment he heard a sound.
"Wow! bow, wow, wow!" barked some dog, a little way off.
The Hare jumped up again, and flew off as quick as his legs would carry him. After running some distance, he sat down again, but this time he found neither forms nor ceremonies.
But he found something that was better. A gun and a sportsman's bag were lying near, and he eyed them.
"I wonder if that gun would go off if I touched it!" he said to himself.
He walked round and round it, and then cautiously pawed it. No: it didn't seem to have the least idea of going off.
Then he lifted it up, and grew quite bold.
"I wonder if I could shoot anything?" thought he.
He aimed at a bird, and brought it down.
"Bravo, bravo, bravo!" cried he. "I'll take this gun, and then if anybody tries to torment or to catch me, I'll—I'll kill them."
He hung the bag round his waist, and put the gun on his shoulder, then walked off to his home. On the way, a boy ran at him, and cried "Bo!" but he just pointed the gun, and the boy ran away.
The Hare lived all by himself, but he was very comfortable. Nobody could bother him, and he would have been quite content only for the men and the dogs.
Every day he practised with his gun till he got to be very skilful.
"Just let them come along
And they shall all soon see,
That they're all in the wrong
To plague and bother me.
Although I'm but a hare,
I think I'm very smart,
And can—let them beware—
Right well take my own part."
So he sang, as he sat one day polishing up his gun.
As he was busily at work, he heard a noise, and cocked his ear. Tramp, tramp, tramp, came along some one—a man. It was a poacher, who said to himself he was going to catch a fine fat Hare. The man cast an eye round, but the Hare hid, and watched.
Then the man stole nearer, and peeped round a tree.
"Aha!" said the Hare. "You want to catch me, and eat me, don't you? But I am going to catch you, and boil you for my supper."
The man only laughed, for it was preposterous the idea of a Hare catching a man, instead of a man catching a hare.
And the Hare just cocked his gun, put it to his shoulder, and fired. Then he did kill the poacher, and took him home, and stewed him with mushrooms for supper.
the
Strong Man and the Invalid
"Where's the good of going on grumble, grumble, grumble, all the day long?" said the strong Man to the Invalid. "Why, you get petted and have extra nice things to eat, beautiful bunches of grapes, and boiled chickens, and I don't know what."
"If you were me, you would not talk like that," said the Invalid, in a poor sick weak voice. "I'd eat dry bread, and never ask to be petted at all if I were strong, like you."
The Strong Man laughed, as if he didn't believe the Invalid.
"I have to work hard all day, and nobody seems to care a bit whether I'm tired or not," said he. "But if you only have a finger ache, everybody is running about trying to find something to do you good. And they come and read to you, and bring you flowers, and—and—"
"You just take my place for a day or two, and see how you'd like it," said the Invalid.
"Um—well, I shouldn't like to be ill, you know," said the Strong Man. "I shouldn't like to lie in bed, nor have the doctor coming to see me, because he'd give me nasty stuff to take."
"I'll be your doctor," said the Invalid. "But you must lie in bed. Come, take my place."
The Strong Man was ashamed to refuse.
"Well, now you are comfortable, I suppose," said the Invalid, tucking him in. "You must try to doze a little."
"But I'm not sleepy," said the Strong Man.
"You'll soon be tired, and go to sleep," said the Invalid. "I'm going away, but shall be back in an hour or two."
When he went away, the place seemed dreadfully dull. Not a sound was to be heard except the barking of a dog in a farm-yard near, and the cluck cluck of some hens.
"Dear, dear," said the Strong Man, "this is very tiresome."
Presently an old lady looked in.
"Poor dear, poor dear," said she, "I will read a nice book to you."
So she sat down and read out of a book. But the Strong Man didn't care about the book, and he thought the old lady stupid.
Then she went away, and by-and-by, a kind old gentleman came in with some chicken, and a glass of wine, and some beautiful white bread.
"Here," said he, "Take this, it will do you good."
But the Strong Man didn't feel hungry, and he was tired and cross by this time, so he wouldn't have any of it. Then some more people came in, and talked to him, and told him the Invalid had gone to see the reapers, and tried to be kind to him. Then at last everybody stole away on tiptoe, and left him alone.
Then the Invalid came back. But by that time the Strong Man had had quite enough of being shut up in a sick room, so he jumped up, and ran to the door.
"I see you are not much to be envied," said he to the Invalid. "I don't think I shall ever envy anybody again so long as I have health and strength."