The Hare sat silent for a time, while I employed myself in watching
certain shadows stream past us on the Great White Road. Among them was
that of a politician whom I had much admired upon the earth. In this
land of Truth I was grieved to observe certain characteristics about him
which I had never before suspected. It seemed to me, alas! that in
his mundane career he had not been so entirely influenced by a
single-hearted desire for the welfare of our country as he had
proclaimed and I had believed. I gathered even that his own interests
had sometimes inspired his policy.

He went by, leaving, so far as I was concerned, a somewhat painful
impression from which I sought relief in the company of the open-souled
Hare.

"Well," I said, "I suppose that you died of exhaustion after your
coursing experience, and came on here."

"Died of exhaustion, Mahatma, not a bit of it! In three days I was as
well as ever, only much more cunning than I had been before. In the
night I fed in the fields upon whatever I could get, but in the daytime
I always lay up in woods. This I did because I found out the shooting
was over, and I knew that greyhounds, which run by sight, would never
come into woods."

The weeks went by and the days began to lengthen. Pretty yellow flowers
that I had not seen before appeared in the woods, and I ate plenty of
them; they have a nice flavour. Then I met another hare and loved her,
because she reminded me of my sister. We used to play about together and
were very happy. "I wonder what she will do now that I am gone."