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.

"Gracious, yes," said the False Hare lightly. "Lemme see! What do
little boys like best? Cinnamon buns an' chocolate cake an'
butterscotch an' lemon pie an' soda-water an' gingerbread an' jujubes
an' hokey-pokey an 'popcorn balls an'--" He might have gone on
forever, but Ann and Rudolf would not stand any more of it. They rose
angrily and dragging Peter after them, continued their climb. Just as
they had almost reached the top of the hill, the False Hare bounded
past them with a laughing salute and a wave of his paw, and dropped
out of sight over the brink of the ridge. A moment more and they all