The hare lets now the tortoise go,
Like a grave bishop pacing slow.
And now behold the tortoise gone,
Toiling, hastening slowly on.
The hare the bet but little priced,
And such a victory despised;
He thought, in his great pride of heart,
‘Twas yet too soon for him to start.
So, browsing, resting at his ease,
Oblivious of his bet, he sees
The tortoise the wished goal about to gain,
He sprang like lightning, but he sprang in vain.
– Jean de La Fontaine
“What a dull heavy creature,” said the Hare, “is this Tortoise!”
“And yet,” said the Tortoise, “I’ll run with you for a wager.”
‘Twas done and done, and the Fox, by consent, was to be the judge.
They started together, and the Tortoise kept jogging on till he came to the end of the course.
The Hare laid himself down about midway, and took a nap…
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