In a diffused light which was neither like that of the dawn nor like that of the twilight, for it was softer than either of these, a blue-flowered leek blossomed in the center of a garden-bed.  A sort of mystery enveloped the blue globe of its inflorescence which remained motionless and closed on its tall stalk.  One felt that this plant was dreaming.  Of what?  Perhaps of its soul’s labor which sings on winter evenings in the pot where boils the soup of the poor.  Oh divine destiny!  Not far from the hedges of boxwood the lips of the lettuce radiated mute words while a low light clung about the shadow of the sleeping watering-pots.  Their task was over.

And full of trust and serenity, without pride or humility, a sage-plant let its insignificant odor rise toward God.

* * * * *

Francis sat down beside God on a bench sheltered by an oak round which an ivy twined.  And God said unto Francis: 

“I know what brings thee hither.  It shall never be said that there was any one, whether maggot or rabbit, who was unable to find his Paradise here.  Go therefore to thy fleet-footed friend, and ask him what it is that he desires.  And as soon as he has told thee, I shall grant him his wish.  If he did not understand how to die and to renounce the world like the others, it was surely because his heart clove too much to my Earth which, indeed, I love well.  Because, Oh Francis, like this creature of the long ears I love the earth with a profound love.  I love the earth of men, of beasts, of plants, and of stones.  Oh Francis, go and find Rabbit, and tell him that I am his friend.”

* * * * *

And Francis set out toward the Paradise of beasts where none of the children of man except young girls had ever set their foot.  There he met Rabbit who was disconsolately wandering about.  But when Rabbit saw his old master approaching he experienced such joy that he crouched down with more fright in his eye than ever and with his nostrils quivering almost imperceptibly.

“Greeting, my brother,” said Francis, “I heard the sufferings of your heart, and I have come here to learn the reason for your sadness.  Have you eaten too many bitter kernels of grain?  Why have you not found the peace of the doves, and of the lambs which are also white...?  Oh harvester of the second crop, for what do you search so restlessly here where there is no more restlessness, and where never more will you feel the hunting-dogs’ breath on your poor skin?”

“Oh my friend,” answered he, “what am I seeking?  I am seeking my God.  As long as you were my God on earth I felt at peace.  But in this Paradise where I have lost my way, because your presence is no longer with me, Oh divine brother of the beast, my soul feels suffocated for I do not find my God.”

“Do you think, then,” said Francis, “that God abandons rabbits, and that they alone of the whole world have no title to Paradise?”