“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 honour 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 to 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.”
“Buzz,” said the fly; “there, I’m not going to make a long speech; but
