THE RACES
    
    
        A PRIZE, or rather two prizes, a great one and a small
    one, had been awarded for the greatest swiftness in running,-
    not in a single race, but for the whole year.
    
        "I obtained the first prize," said the hare. "Justice must
    still be carried out, even when one has relations and good
    friends among the prize committee; but that the snail should
    have received the second prize, I consider almost an insult to
    myself"
    
        "No," said the fence-rail, who had been a witness at the
    distribution of prizes; "there should be some consideration
    for industry and perseverance. I have heard many respectable
    people say so, and I can quite understand it. The snail
    certainly took half a year to get over the threshold of the
    door; but he injured himself, and broke his collar-bone by the
    haste he made. He gave himself up entirely to the race, and
    ran with his house on his back, which was all, of course, very
    praiseworthy; and therefore he obtained the second prize."
    
        "I think I ought to have had some consideration too," said
    the swallow. "I should imagine no one can be swifter in
    soaring and flight than I am; and how far I have been! far,
    far away."
    
        "Yes, that is your misfortune," said the fence-rail; "you
    are so fickle, so unsettled; you must always be travelling
    about into foreign lands when the cold commences here. You
    have no love of fatherland in you. There can be no
    consideration for you."
    
        "But now, if I have been lying the whole winter in the
    moor," said the swallow, "and suppose I slept the whole time,
    would that be taken into account?"
    
        "Bring a certificate from the old moor-hen," said he,
    "that you have slept away half your time in fatherland; then
    you will be treated with some consideration."
    
        "I deserved the first prize, and not the second," said the
    snail. "I know so much, at least, that the hare only ran from
    cowardice, and because he thought there was danger in delay.
    I, on the other hand, made running the business of my life,
    and have become a cripple in the service. If any one had a
    first prize, it ought to have been myself. But I do not
    understand chattering and boasting; on the contrary, I despise
    it." And the snail spat at them with contempt.
    
        "I am able to affirm with word of oath, that each prize-
    at least, those for which I voted- was given with just and
    proper consideration," said the old boundary post in the wood,
    who was a member of the committee of judges. "I always act
    with due order, consideration, and calculation. Seven times
    have I already had the honor to be present at the distribution
    of the prizes, and to vote; but to-day is the first time I
    have been able to carry out my will. I always reckon the first
    prize by going through the alphabet from the beginning, and
    the second by going through from the end. Be so kind as to
    give me your attention, and I will explain to you how I reckon
    from the beginning. The eighth letter from A is H, and there
    we have H for hare; therefore I awarded to the hare the first
    prize. The eighth letter from the end of the alphabet is S,
    and therefore the snail received the second prize. Next year,
    the letter I will have its turn for the first prize, and the
    letter R for the second."
    
        "I should really have voted for myself," said the mule,
    "if I had not been one of the judges on the committee. Not
    only the rapidity with which advance is made, but every other
    quality should have due consideration; as, for instance, how
    much weight a candidate is able to draw; but I have not
    brought this quality forward now, nor the sagacity of the hare
    in his flight, nor the cunning with which he suddenly springs
    aside and doubles, to lead people on a false track, thinking
    he has concealed himself. No; there is something else on which
    more stress should be laid, and which ought not be left
    unnoticed. I mean that which mankind call the beautiful. It is
    on the beautiful that I particularly fix my eyes. I observed
    the well-grown ears of the hare; it is a pleasure to me to
    observe how long they are. It seemed as if I saw myself again
    in the days of my childhood; and so I voted for the hare."
    
        "Buz," said the fly; "there, I'm not going to make a long
    speech; but I wish to say something about hares. I have really
    overtaken more than one hare, when I have been seated on the
    engine in front of a railway train. I often do so. One can
    then so easily judge of one's own swiftness. Not long ago, I
    crushed the hind legs of a young hare. He had been running a
    long time before the engine; he had no idea that I was
    travelling there. At last he had to stop in his career, and
    the engine ran over his hind legs, and crushed them; for I set
    upon it. I left him lying there, and rode on farther. I call
    that conquering him; but I do not want the prize."
    
        "It really seems to me," thought the wild rose, though she
    did not express her opinion aloud- it is not in her nature to
    do so,- though it would have been quite as well if she had;
    "it certainly seems to me that the sunbeam ought to have had
    the honor of receiving the first prize. The sunbeam flies in a
    few minutes along the immeasurable path from the sun to us. It
    arrives in such strength, that all nature awakes to loveliness
    and beauty; we roses blush and exhale fragrance in its
    presence. Our worshipful judges don't appear to have noticed
    this at all. Were I the sunbeam, I would give each one of them
    a sun stroke; but that would only make them mad, and they are
    mad enough already. I only hope," continued the rose, "that
    peace may reign in the wood. It is glorious to bloom, to be
    fragrant, and to live; to live in story and in song. The
    sunbeam will outlive us all."
    
        "What is the first prize?" asked the earthworm, who had
    overslept the time, and only now came up.
    
        "It contains a free admission to a cabbage-garden,"
    replied the mule. "I proposed that as one of the prizes. The
    hare most decidedly must have it; and I, as an active and
    thoughtful member of the committee, took especial care that
    the prize should be one of advantage to him; so now he is
    provided for. The snail can now sit on the fence, and lick up
    moss and sunshine. He has also been appointed one of the first
    judges of swiftness in racing. It is worth much to know that
    one of the numbers is a man of talent in the thing men call a
    'committee.' I must say I expect much in the future; we have
    already made such a good beginning."
    
    
                                THE END
    


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