The Hare paused for a little, then looked up at me in its comical fashion and asked—
“Did you ever course hares, Mahatma?”
“Not I, thank goodness,” I answered.
“Well, what do you think of coursing?”
“I would rather not say,” I replied.
“Then I will,” said the Hare, with conviction. “I think it horrible.”
“Yes, but, Hare, you do not remember the pleasure this sport gives to the men and the dogs; you look at it from an entirely selfish point of view.”
“And so would you, Mahatma, if you had felt Jack’s hot breath on your back and Jill’s teeth in your tail.”
THE HUNTING
The Hare sat silent for a time, while I employed myself in watching certain shadows stream past us on the Great White Road. Among them was that of a politician whom I had much admired upon the earth. In this land of Truth I was grieved to observe certain characteristics about him which I had never before suspected. It seemed to me, alas! that in his mundane career he had not been so entirely influenced by a single-hearted desire for the welfare of our country as he had proclaimed and I had believed. I gathered even that his own interests had sometimes inspired his policy.