“One day my master came home very much agitated, and burying his head in his hands, exclaimed, ‘My God! they talk of another change of Ministry; if I lose my place, what will become of us? We have no money!’ ‘My poor father,’ said the son, ‘I will work for you. I am big, and can make money.’ ‘No, my boy, you are still young, and know nothing of the world.’ ‘But, father,’ he continued, ‘why not go to the king, and ask him for money?’ My master said, ‘They are only beggars who live upon their miseries; and besides, the king has his own poor relations to provide for.’ “Since the rich have always their poor relations, why have not the poor their rich ones?” “Tell me,” said the little Hare, who had slipped behind her grandfather, so as to shout into his ear; “You talk of king and ministers—who are they?” “Be quiet,” replied the old Hare, “it cannot be of any consequence to you who or what the king is. It is not yet certain whether he is a person or a thing. As to the ministers, they are the gentlemen who cause others to lose their places, until they have lost their own.” “Ah me!” said the little one, much satisfied with his explanation; “never let it be said that it is useless to speak seriously to children.” “The fatal day came at last. My master lost his place by a change of Ministry, and soon after died of a broken heart. His poor son was not long in following him to the grave. I was left alone in the empty room, as everything was taken and sold to meet the funeral expenses. I should myself have been sacrificed had I not escaped after nightfall, and sped through the streets of Paris, scarcely halting to take breath until beyond the Arc de l’Étoile. There I paused for a moment, casting a look of compassion on the great city wrapped in slumber beneath a dark cloud, that shut out heaven from its view.” {30} CHAPTER V. Return to the fields.—The worthlessness of men and other animals.—A Cock, accustomed to the ring, provokes our hero.—Duel with pistols. “I soon reached a wood, and felt my chest expand with the pure air. It was so long since I beheld the full extent of the sky, that I seemed to look upon it for the first time. The moonlight was bright, and the night-breeze laden with a banquet of fresh odours that it had caught up about the fields and hedgerows. Endowed by nature with an acute sense of smell, nothing could be more delicious to a weary Hare than the fresh fragrance of grass and thyme. Each breath I inhaled filled me with the fond memories of my childhood, which passed into my dreams as I slept in the open air. Early next morning I was roused by the clang of steel. Two gentlemen were fighting with swords, and appeared to me determined to kill each other; however, when they were tired of fencing, they walked off quietly arm-in-arm. Other combatants followed, but not one fell, and no blood was spilt in these affairs of honour, after nights of gambling and debauchery.