“No, no.  Please stop, Hare; your questions are very unpleasant.”

“Not half so unpleasant as the things are themselves, I can assure you, Man.  I will tell you my story if you like; then you can judge for yourself.  But first, if you will, do you tell me why I am here.  Have you seen more hares about this place?”

“Never, nor any other animals.  No, I am wrong, once I saw a dog.”

The Hare looked about it anxiously.

“A dog.  How horrible!  What was it doing?  Hunting?  If there are no hares here what could it be hunting?  A rabbit, or a pheasant with a broken wing, or perhaps a fox?  I should not mind so much if it were a fox.  I hate foxes; they catch young hares when they are asleep and eat them.”

“None of these things.  I was told that it belonged to a little girl who died.  That broke its heart, so that it died also when they shut her up in a box.  Therefore it was allowed to accompany her here because it had loved so much.  Indeed I saw them together, both very happy, and together they went through those gates.”

“If dogs love little girls why don’t they love hares, at least as anything likes to be loved, for the dog didn’t want to eat the little girl, did it?  I see you can’t answer me.  Now would you like me to tell you my story?  Something inside of me is saying that I am to do so if you will listen; also that there is plenty of time, for I am not wanted at present, and when I am I can run to those gates much quicker than you could.”

“I should like it very much, Hare.  Once a prophet heard an ass speak in order to warn him.  But since then, except very, very rarely in dreams, no creature has talked to a man, so far as I know.  Perhaps you wish to warn me about something, or others through me, as the ass warned Balaam.”

“Who is Balaam?  I never heard of Balaam.  He wasn’t the man who fetches dead pheasants in the donkey-cart, was he?  If so, I’ve seen him make the ass talk—­with a thick stick.  No?  Well, never mind, I daresay I should not understand about him if you told me.  Now for my story.”

Then the Hare sat itself down, planting its forepaws firmly in front of it, as these animals do when they are on the watch, looked up at me and began to pour the contents of its mind into mine.

*****

I was born, it said, or rather told me by thought transference, in a field of growing corn near to a big wood.  At least I suppose I was born there, though the first thing I remember is playing about in the wheat with two other little ones of my own size, a brother and a sister that were born with me.  It was at night, for a great, round, shining thing which I now know was the moon, hung in the sky above us.  We gambolled together and were very happy, till presently my mother came—­I remember how big she looked—­and cuffed me with her paw because I had led the others away from the place where she had told us to stop, and given her a great