"Houp! houp! houp!" went the dog.
I was bewildered; such a strange adventure had never befallen me before.
"Once, twice—will you give me my hare?"
"Have I any hare of yours?"
"You? No, but your dog."
"Ha! that's another affair. You must settle that with him. Take your hare, and let me eat my turnip in peace."
Enraged at this, I rushed at the carroty dog, but he was off in an instant, jumping first behind the tree, and then behind his master, keeping my hare all the time fast in his mouth till I was fairly out of breath, and aggravated beyond expression.
I looked towards the poacher. He was quietly plucking the top off a fresh turnip, but under the air of icy indifference which pervaded his whole exterior I detected a sarcastic smile, which fully convinced me that I was the laughing-stock of man and beast. I took my resolution, and Père Séguin, who had followed my movements with his eye, said drily, as I was going to put a cap on, "What are you going to do young man?"
"Oh, nothing! just to kill your dog for taking my hare."
"Bah! you're joking."