The Hare, Said My Mother, and the Huntsman

A wild hare with fright rushed by and made for the woods. The dogs were upon her with their wild cries. One of the huntsmen rode up and whipp off the dogs who would soon have torn her to pieces. But though i am an old horse, i never yet could make out why men are so fond of this sport. They often hurt themselves, often spoil good horses and tear up the fields for a hare or a fox or a stag. And they could get more easily some other way. But we are only horses, and don't know. We heard one shriek, and that was the end of her.