The Hare and the Painted Gate

A hare recoils from a falling net beyond a painted gate while a tortoise watches from the safe side.

At the edge of the warren, a young Hare found a narrow gate painted blue. Beyond it ran a smooth path, with clover scattered along the stones as neatly as coins.

“Someone has been generous,” said the Hare.

“Someone has been busy,” said the Tortoise. “Those are not always the same thing.”

The Hare went through. Each patch of clover lay farther from the last, until the hedge closed behind him and the path ended beneath a hunter’s net. He sprang back as the cords fell, leaving only a tuft of fur caught in the knots.

“You see?” he told the Tortoise when he returned. “I escaped.”

The Tortoise looked at the fur in the Hare’s paws. “Then be grateful the gate asked so little of you the first time.”