had Hare spoken these words, than he tossed his blanket in the general direction of his bed and
ran out his door, forgetting entirely to close it behind him.
Watching through his window while he mopped his already-sparkling floor, Tortoise
sighed deeply. “‘T does seem that ‘e might ‘ave a bit mo’ respect fer other peoples’ property.”
He winced as Hare charged up his immaculate garden path, upending flower pots in his haste.
Sighing again, Tortoise ambled over to his wall mirror. This particular mirror was an heirloom
from many generations past and was the pride of his heart. Still contemplating the old, kindly
face that gazed back at him, his reverie was interrupted by a series of thuds upon his heavy oak
door, announcing his neighbor’s arrival. “Comin’, comin’,” Tortoise said vaguely as he made
his way to the door.
Without sufficient time even for a greeting, Tortoise was forced out of the way by his
neighbor who, as soon as his feet hit the floor, was swept away on its sparkling surface, across
the room, and into the wall on which hung the magnificent mirror. Down it came with a crash to
waken the dead. This was perhaps fortunate, for the exclamations that were uttered by Hare,
were quite unfit to be repeated. “That aint nothin’ to worry yerself ‘bout,” said the Hare, finally
getting to his feet. He immediately began what he called “tidying up”—kicking the largest
pieces of the glass under the bed and hanging the remains of the once beautiful frame on the
wall, giving it a “complementary dusting” with his short tail.
Tortoise, attempting to hide his horror, shook his head. Then, composing himself, he
said, “My, my, wha’ a…unexpected s’prise.
“Yes, well I though’ I’d come round, ‘n see how yer doin’. You aint finished cleanin’
ye’?” At this he put on an important, patronizing kind of smile saying, “Tortoise, Tortoise, if I
said i’ once, I said i’ an hundred times, all work ‘n no play makes a body slow ‘n dull.”
“And I said jus’ ‘s of’n, tha’ haste makes waste, but slow’n steady wins the race.”
Hare, vainly attempting to hide a snort, replied, “Yeah, well, speakin’ o’ races, I heard
some’m ‘bout one hap’nin’ t’morrow.” “Though’ I’d join,” he added with a hint of superiority.
At this, he was somewhat surprised to see a contented smile cross his neighbor’s face.
“Y’know, I think I’ll join ‘s well,” said Tortoise, still wearing that mysterious smile.
This was too much for Hare who, slipping on the still-wet floor, rolled over, pounding his fists
on the floor with unrestrained hilarity.
Tortoise, not in the least disturbed by this response, picked up a rag and began to scoop
out the chunks of glass from under his bed, while Hare, still laughing uncontrollably, stumbled
out the door.
For the rest of the day, Hare made his way about the surrounding neighborhood gleefully
bringing the news of Tortoise’s decision to anyone who would listen. Some, like Hare, thought
that, if Tortoise did show up, it would be quite a comical scene. Others, like Mrs. Robin felt
pity. “Poor dear, I always though’ ‘e was a bi’ off. Quiet-like you know? Keeps to ‘imself
mostly. But to think o’ ‘im ent’rin’ a race! I never did ‘ere the like.”
It was no wonder to anyone that, by that afternoon, all of the contestants had withdrawn
from the race, all except Tortoise and Hare. The day of the race came and the stands were soon
packed with spectators from miles around. At the starting line, Fox held a whispered discussion
with Hare. “You don’t even know that ‘e ‘ll show up,” Fox argued.
“Oh ‘e will. Ya shoulda seen ‘im yesterday. Go’ all fired up-like when I mentioned a
race. Don’t ye worry yerself ‘bout ‘im. He can’t hurt himself walkin’. That’s ‘s fas’ as ‘e ‘ll go
anyways.”
“Oh, alright,” Fox said hesitantly, “I jus’ ‘ope he doesn’t take i’ too ‘ard. Ah, Tortoise
good to see you ou’ ‘n ‘bout.” For Tortoise had just walked up.
“All ready to go then?” asked Tortoise pleasantly.
“Er, Yes,” said Fox with a significant look at Hare. “On your marks then,” he waited for
Tortoise to walk to the line. “Ge’ se’, go!”
As the cloud of dust that had been kicked up by Hare parted, it did so to find Tortoise in
precisely the same spot. “Well, I’d bes’ be off.” And with a cheery wave to the crowd, he
ambled away.
By this time, Hare was in sight of the Finish line. With a final bound, he might have
crossed it, had he not been distracted by another sight. A patch of cool, dry grass surrounded by
clumps of wildflowers brought him to a stop. Looking over his shoulder, he saw nothing but
dusty track, and, making up his mind, he strolled over to the patch of grass.
Much later, Tortoise strolled up, seeing, to his delight, that his trap had worked—Hare
was fast asleep. The crowd watched with baited breath as Tortoise walked gently by Hare and
crossed the finish line. The cheers were tumultuous. “Never in all my life!” “He did i’!” “Bless
‘im!”
Before long, Hare was awoken by the commotion. “No! It can’t be! ‘E couldn’t ‘a
won!” Still forcing himself not to believe what had clearly taken place, Hare looked to the finish
line, at which his fears were confirmed. A very slow parade was approaching him, at the head of
which was Tortoise. Tortoise, smiling slightly at the stunned look on Hare’s face, said, “It’s like
I always tell you. Haste makes waste, but…”
“I know, I know, slow and steady wins the race.” Tortoise’s smile grew wider. Then
Hare smiled, “Well, this calls for a proper celebration at my house!” And, arm in arm, the two
friends made their way, slow and steady.
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