y
had young ones also. I see now that my father was a philosophic hare.
But are you tired of my story?

"Not at all," I answered; "go on, please. It is very interesting to hear
things described from the animal's point of view, especially when that
animal has grown wise and learned to understand."

"Ah," answered the Hare. "I see what you mean. And it is odd, but I do
understand. All has become clear to me. I don't know what happened when
I died, but there came a change, and I knew that I who was but a beast
always have been and still am a necessary part of everything as much as
you are, though more helpless and humble. Yes, I am as ancient and as
far-reaching as yourself, but how I began and how I shall end is dark to
me. Well, I will go on with my story."

It must have been a moon or so later, after my mother had given up
nursing me, that I went to lie out by myself. There was a big house on
the hillside overlooking the sea, and near to it were gardens surrounded
by a wall. Also outside of this wall was another patch of garden where
cabbages grew. I found a way to those cabbages and kept it secret, for
I was greedy and wanted them all for myself. I used to creep in at night
and eat them, also some flowers with spiky leaves that grew round them
which had a very fine flavour. Then after the dawn came I went to a form
which I had made under a furze bush on the slope that ran down to the
sea, and slept there.

One day I was awakened by something white, hard, and round which rolled
gently and stopped still quite close to me. It was not alive, although
it had a queer smell, and I wondered why it moved at all. Presently I
heard voices and there appeared a little man, and with him somebody who
was not a man because it was differently dressed and spoke in a higher
voice. I saw that they had sticks in their hands and thought of running
away, then that it would be safer to lie quite close. They came up to me
and the little man said--

"There's the ball; pick it up, Ella, the lie is too bad."

She, for now I know it was what is called a girl, stooped to obey and
saw my back.

"Tom," she said in a whisper, "here's a young hare on its form."

"Get out of the light," he answered, "and I'll kill it," and he lifted
the stick he held, which had a twisted iron end.

"No," she said, "catch it alive; I want a hare to be a friend to my
rabbit, which has lost all its little ones."

"Lost them? Eaten them, you mean, because you wo