“Well,” replied the Man coolly, “and suppose I, or my people, did, what of it? Why shouldn’t I? You were a beast, I was a man with dominion over you. You can read all about that in the Book of Genesis.”
“I never heard of the Book of Genesis,” said the Hare, “but what does dominion mean? Does this Book of Genesis say that it means the right to torment that which is weaker than the tormentor?”
“All you animals were made for us to eat,” commented the Man, avoiding an answer to the direct question.
“Very good,” answered the Hare, “let us suppose that we were given you to eat. Was it in order to eat me that you came out against me with guns, then with dogs that run by sight, and then with dogs that run by smell?”
“If you were to be killed and eaten, why should you not be killed in one of these ways, Hare?”
“Why should I be killed in those ways, Man, when others more merciful were to your hand? Indeed, why should I be killed at all? Moreover, if you wished to satisfy your hunger with my body, why at the last was I thrown to the dogs to devour?”
“I don’t quite know, Hare. Never looked at the matter in that light before. But—ah! I’ve got you now,” he added triumphantly. “If it hadn’t been for me you never would have lived. You see I gave you the gift of life. Therefore, instead of grumbling, you should be very much obliged to me. Don’t you understand? I preserved hares, so that without me you would never have been a hare. Isn’t that right, Mr.— Mr.—I am sorry I have forgotten your name,” he added, turning towards me.
“Mahatma,” I said.
“Oh! yes, I remember it now—Mr.—ah—Mr. Hatter.”
“There is something in the argument,” I replied cautiously, “but let us hear our friend’s answer.”