mud/content/library/grimm/187_the_hare_and_the_hedgehog.txt

The Hare and the Hedgehog

This story, my dear young folks, seems to be false, but it really is
true, for my grandfather, from whom I have it, used always, when
relating it, to say complacently, “It must be true, my son, or else no
one could tell it to you.” The story is as follows. One Sunday morning
about harvest time, just as the buckwheat was in bloom, the sun was
shining brightly in heaven, the east wind was blowing warmly over the
stubble-fields, the larks were singing in the air, the bees buzzing
among the buckwheat, the people were all going in their Sunday clothes
to church, and all creatures were happy, and the hedgehog was happy
too.

The hedgehog, however, was standing by his door with his arms akimbo,
enjoying the morning breezes, and slowly trilling a little song to
himself, which was neither better nor worse than the songs which
hedgehogs are in the habit of singing on a blessed Sunday morning.
Whilst he was thus singing half aloud to himself, it suddenly occurred
to him that, while his wife was washing and drying the children, he
might very well take a walk into the field, and see how his turnips
were going on. The turnips were, in fact, close beside his house, and
he and his family were accustomed to eat them, for which reason he
looked upon them as his own. No sooner said than done. The hedgehog
shut the house-door behind him, and took the path to the field. He had
not gone very far from home, and was just turning round the sloe-bush
which stands there outside the field, to go up into the turnip-field,
when he observed the hare who had gone out on business of the same
kind, namely, to visit his cabbages. When the hedgehog caught sight of
the hare, he bade him a friendly good morning. But the hare, who was in
his own way a distinguished gentleman, and frightfully haughty, did not
return the hedgehog’s greeting, but said to him, assuming at the same
time a very contemptuous manner, “How do you happen to be running about
here in the field so early in the morning?” “I am taking a walk,” said
the hedgehog. “A walk!” said the hare, with a smile. “It seems to me
that you might use your legs for a better purpose.” This answer made
the hedgehog furiously angry, for he can bear anything but an attack on
his legs, just because they are crooked by nature. So now the hedgehog
said to the hare, “You seem to imagine that you can do more with your
legs than I with mine.” “That is just what I do think,” said the hare.
“That can be put to the test,” said the hedgehog. “I wager that if we
run a race, I will outstrip you.” “That is ridiculous! You with your
short legs!” said the hare, “but for my part I am willing, if you have
such a monstrous fancy for it. What shall we wager?” “A golden
louis-d’or and a bottle of brandy,” said the hedgehog. “Done,” said the
hare. “Shake hands on it, and then we may as well come off at once.”
“Nay,” said the hedgehog, “there is no such great hurry! I am still
fasting, I will go home first, and have a little breakfast. In
half-an-hour I will be back again at this place.”

Hereupon the hedgehog departed, for the hare was quite satisfied with
this. On his way the hedgehog thought to himself, “The hare relies on
his long legs, but I will contrive to get the better of him. He may be
a great man, but he is a very silly fellow, and he shall pay for what
he has said.” So when the hedgehog reached home, he said to his wife,
“Wife, dress thyself quickly, thou must go out to the field with me.”
“What is going on, then?” said his wife. “I have made a wager with the
hare, for a gold louis-d’or and a bottle of brandy. I am to run a race
with him, and thou must be present.” “Good heavens, husband,” the wife
now cried, “art thou not right in thy mind, hast thou completely lost
thy wits? What can make thee want to run a race with the hare?” “Hold
thy tongue, woman,” said the hedgehog, “that is my affair. Don’t begin
to discuss things which are matters for men. Be off, dress thyself, and
come with me.” What could the hedgehog’s wife do? She was forced to
obey him, whether she liked it or not.

So when they had set out on their way together, the hedgehog said to
his wife, “Now pay attention to what I am going to say. Look you, I
will make the long field our race-course. The hare shall run in one
furrow, and I in another, and we will begin to run from the top. Now
all that thou hast to do is to place thyself here below in the furrow,
and when the hare arrives at the end of the furrow, on the other side
of thee, thou must cry out to him, ‘I am here already!’”

Then they reached the field, and the hedgehog showed his wife her
place, and then walked up the field. When he reached the top, the hare
was already there. “Shall we start?” said the hare. “Certainly,” said
the hedgehog. “Then both at once.” So saying, each placed himself in
his own furrow. The hare counted, “Once, twice, thrice, and away!” and
went off like a whirlwind down the field. The hedgehog, however, only
ran about three paces, and then he stooped down in the furrow, and
stayed quietly where he was. When the hare therefore arrived in full
career at the lower end of the field, the hedgehog’s wife met him with
the cry, “I am here already!” The hare was shocked and wondered not a
little, he thought no other than that it was the hedgehog himself who
was calling to him, for the hedgehog’s wife looked just like her
husband. The hare, however, thought to himself, “That has not been done
fairly,” and cried, “It must be run again, let us have it again.” And
once more he went off like the wind in a storm, so that he seemed to
fly. But the hedgehog’s wife stayed quietly in her place. So when the
hare reached the top of the field, the hedgehog himself cried out to
him, “I am here already.” The hare, however, quite beside himself with
anger, cried, “It must be run again, we must have it again.” “All
right,” answered the hedgehog, “for my part we’ll run as often as you
choose.” So the hare ran seventy-three times more, and the hedgehog
always held out against him, and every time the hare reached either the
top or the bottom, either the hedgehog or his wife said, “I am here
already.”

At the seventy-fourth time, however, the hare could no longer reach the
end. In the middle of the field he fell to the ground, blood streamed
out of his mouth, and he lay dead on the spot. But the hedgehog took
the louis-d’or which he had won and the bottle of brandy, called his
wife out of the furrow, and both went home together in great delight,
and if they are not dead, they are living there still.

This is how it happened that the hedgehog made the hare run races with
him on the Buxtehuder heath till he died, and since that time no hare
has ever had any fancy for running races with a Buxtehuder hedgehog.

The moral of this story, however, is, firstly, that no one, however
great he may be, should permit himself to jest at any one beneath him,
even if he be only a hedgehog. And, secondly, it teaches, that when a
man marries, he should take a wife in his own position, who looks just
as he himself looks. So whosoever is a hedgehog let him see to it that
his wife is a hedgehog also, and so forth.