The children did not understand and said so.

“Well,” said the False Hare, “I’ll just explain, and then I really must get back to business.  Now then, suppose a hound dreams about a hare?  It’s a dream hare, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course,” they cried.

“And a dream hare is not a real hare, is it?  And a hare that’s not a real hare is a false hare, isn’t it?  So there I am.  That’s where I come in.  Simple, isn’t it?”

“You make it sound simple,” said Rudolf politely.  “We’re much obliged.  And now would you mind telling us where we are coming to, and what is beyond this steep hill just ahead of us?”

The Hare screwed his glass into his eye and looked thoughtfully at the country round about.  “I can tell you, of course,” he said, “but it won’t be the truth.  I really must get back to business.”

“Oh, never mind telling us at all, then,” said Rudolf, who was becoming rather vexed, “I see there’s no use asking you any questions.”

During their conversation with the False Hare, the children had been hurrying along over a stretch of open level country.  Now the ground began to slope gradually upward and soon they were climbing a very steep hill.  It was hard traveling, for the hill was covered with thick, fuzzy, whitish-yellow grass which tangled itself round their feet, and gave them more than one fall.  Ann and Rudolf had to stop often to pick up Peter, for he was rather fat and his legs were too short to carry him along as fast as theirs did.  The False Hare hurried ahead by leaps and bounds that would soon have carried him out of sight of his companions if he had not stopped now and then to wait for them.  When the children caught up to him, they would find him sitting on his little dress-suit case, smoking a chocolate cigarette, and laughing at them.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” he would say when they apologized for keeping him waiting. “I don’t mind.  I like waiting for slow-pokes!  It’s nothing to me if I miss a dozen appointments and get driven out of the dream business by that old what’s-his-name—­Welsh Rabbit!”

This sort of talk was rather annoying, and after a while the children decided not to heed it any longer.  Indeed they were all three tired with their climb, and were glad to sink down on the soft fuzzy grass and rest a while.  The False Hare bounded ahead, calling back to them “Not to hurry”, but when he found he could not tease them into following, he sauntered back to meet them, looking as cool and fresh and neat as when he started.  Peter had been rather in the dumps ever since he had been refused a taste of the Lady Goose’s dinner, and now he looked thoughtfully at the Hare’s suit case.

“Has you got anything to eat in there?” he asked, his little face brightening.