"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