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The Magic Hare
Lynne Reid Banks
Now available as an ebook for the first time.Once there was a hare - a joyful, dancing hare. Kings, queens, witches, giants, even a vampire, have seen this clever creature - but no one can catch him. Whoever is lucky enough to see the magic never, ever forgets. This book includes 12 stories of encounters with the magic hare.
To Theatre of the Heartwhere Hare began.
Table of Contents
Title Page (#ud78c0294-fcc7-5114-ab53-ebb5185ae8a8)
Dedication (#u57b22a72-9c84-5115-8501-9301132e4f80)
The Hare and the Spoilt Queen (#u54a71711-6028-50b4-b3f2-5e8e0d5de960)
The Hare and the Flower (#u2b04e4c1-d9aa-58ed-93aa-b72d9f3b4f0b)
The Hare and the Orphan (#u9a38f5fb-d495-566a-9a3c-13eb21b478d8)
The Hare and the Giants (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare and the Vampire (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare and the Lazy Hunter (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare That Cured Hiccups (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare and the Dragon (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare and the Black-and-White Witch (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare With the Diamond Tail (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare and the Wicked Uncle (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare and his Magic (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading (#litres_trial_promo)
Also by the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
The Hare and the Spoilt Queen (#ulink_fd1b4458-e363-5f48-94ac-8693418a6280)
Once there was a spoilt queen. She was bad tempered and terribly unfair. She blamed her people for everything that went wrong.
For instance, at her coronation, just as the Archbishop set the crown on her head, she bent over to scratch a sudden itch on her instep and her crown fell off and rolled down the steps leading to the throne.
She ranted and raved that it was every-one’s fault but hers, and spoilt the whole occasion so thoroughly that nobody took pictures of her. Then she got furious again because her picture wasn’t in the papers or on television. She closed all the TV stations and newspapers down, so nobody knew what was happening.
To cheer her up, her people held a big festival for her. They planned it weeks in advance and worked very hard to make it a success. When the day came – it rained. The queen jumped up and down, shouting that it was all their fault for choosing a rainy day to hold the festival on.
All the people felt very miserable. The queen wasn’t speaking to any-one. There was no telly. Nobody knew what to do.
One day the spoilt queen was out walking in the palace garden with two scared ladies-in-waiting. They kept just behind her and held hands because they were so frightened that she would find something to blame them for.
She pulled an apple crossly off a tree and bit into it. Then she spat out the piece, turned on the two ladies-in-waiting and screamed:
“This apple is sour! How dare you let me pick it when it’s not ripe!”
And she threw it straight at them.
They didn’t bother arguing that it wasn’t their fault. They just turned and ran.
That left the queen on her own. She stamped and fumed in the long grass, shouting at the top of her voice: “I HATE EVERYONE!” But suddenly, just near her stamping feet, she saw a little furry head with long ears.
She stopped carrying on, and said: “Oh! A hare in my orchard!” She didn’t know whether to be pleased or annoyed, but as usual she chose to be annoyed. “You’re trespassing, hare! Go away at once.”
“Oh, all right,” said the hare. “If you prefer to be alone.” And he hopped off.
“Wait!” cried the queen imperiously. The hare stopped and looked back. “I didn’t know you could talk. That makes a difference. Come back and talk to me.” She was used to ordering everyone about, but the hare didn’t move.
“Come here, I said!” shouted the spoilt queen, stamping her foot.
“‘Please’ would be nice,” said the hare.
“‘PLEASE’!” echoed the queen. “A queen doesn’t have to say ‘please’!” The mere idea shocked her.
“Well, I don’t know much about queens, but personally I don’t like talking to anyone who doesn’t say please. And thank you,” said the hare very reasonably.
“You impertinent little animal!” cried the queen. “Do you presume to teach me manners?”
“Not at all,” said the hare. “I don’t care how you behave. All I said was that ‘please’ would be nice. Because I like things nice.” And he made off in great bounds, ignoring the queen’s shouts at him to come back immediately.
That night the queen summoned her gamekeeper.
“There’s a hare in the orchard,” she said. “I want him for the pot. Shoot him.”
The gamekeeper trembled in his boots.
“That hare can’t be shot, Your Majesty,” he muttered. “He’s a magic hare. If you try to shoot him, he vanishes.”
“A magic hare! I should have guessed,” said the queen. “Then trap him for me – I want him alive.”
“He can’t be trapped either, Ma’am.”
“Then how am I to get my hands on him? I want him for my very own magic hare!”
The gamekeeper shook his head. “Nothing to be done,” he said.
“This is all your fault, you stupid man!” railed the queen. “It’s your job to catch game for me! You’re dismissed!”
The gamekeeper, who had five children to feed, went away sadly. There was a lot of unemployment among gamekeepers.
No sooner was he out of the door than the hare appeared in front of the throne. The queen was so surprised that she jumped.
“How can you be so mean?” he asked indignantly.
“I do as I like! I’m the queen!” screamed the queen.
“More’s the pity, if you ask me,” muttered the hare.
“What’s that you said?”
“I said, more’s the pity. I should think your subjects would rather have almost any other queen than you.”
The queen’s mouth fell open. She was speechless. She had never in her whole life been spoken to like that, not even by her nanny when she was little.
The hare didn’t take advantage of her speechlessness to tell her off some more. Instead he did a little dance.
This had an extraordinary effect on the queen. It calmed her down. She sat watching the hare leaping about and her heartbeat slowed, her eyes lost their anger, and her fists unclenched.
Then something very strange happened. She found she had got to her feet and begun dancing, too, jumping and kicking her legs about just like the hare. Fortunately there was no one watching or they would have thought it very undignified.
The hare finished his dance. The queen stopped too, breathless.
“I’m quite thirsty after that!” said the hare cheerfully. “Could you fancy a glass of water?”
“Water? I don’t drink—” began the queen faintly. But before she could go on to say she never drank anything less than champagne, she found a glass of water in her hand, and, feeling suddenly very thirsty, she drank some.
It was perfectly delicious! The most satisfying, cooling, thirst-quenching drink she’d ever drunk.
“This is divine!” she cried, and drank the lot. “Lovely and fizzy! Can you make this drink whenever you like?”
“Yes, but so can you. It comes from the spring in your garden.”
“I’ll never drink anything else!” said the queen. “I feel so good! What can I do to express what I feel?”
“You know,” said the hare, and vanished.
The queen sat down and gave the matter some thought.
Then she rang the bell and summoned her chancellor.
“Good morning, my dear Chancellor!” she said.
The poor man nearly fainted.
“I have some instructions for you, please, if you would be so very kind. First, call back my gamekeeper and ask him if he would stay in my employ – at double the wages, of course. Next, I am going to open my palace grounds for one day every month and give an enormous fête. Everyone’s invited.”
“Everyone, Ma’am? You mean, ordinary people?”
“They’re not ordinary people, they’re my people. No expense to be spared. Especially for music. I want the best musicians, who specialise in music to dance to.”
“Your commands shall be obeyed, Your Majesty,” said the astounded chancellor, bowing low.
“Not commands,” said the queen. “Requests. Thank you, Chancellor, that will be all.”
The chancellor backed out of the room in the approved manner, but he was in such a state that he tripped and fell over backwards.
The queen helped him up.
“I’m so very, humbly sorry, Your Majesty—” began the chancellor, all of a tremble.
“Entirely my fault,” said the queen.
The Hare and the Flower (#ulink_f9344443-1286-5656-b995-3f1e37e9c8c8)
One night the magic hare was dancing and jumping about more energetically even than usual. The moon was full, and that was when he danced his best, so he was hurling himself about, trying to resist the temptation to use a bit of magic to enable him to jump that little bit higher than he could by himself. He managed not to, and did a really spectacular leap just the same, which carried him four or five feet above the grass that was whispering in the night wind.
He landed again, panting, and shouted:
“That’s the finest jump I’ve ever jumped, and I didn’t use magic a bit! What a rotten shame nobody was here to see me” – and suddenly he heard a tinkling sound.
It was like bells – very small, silvery ones.
He looked this way and that. He jumped a few ordinary jumps to get his head clear of the top of the grass, to see what had made that sound. But he couldn’t see anything.
There are lots of little noises in nature that only small animals would hear or notice. The hare’s world, down near the ground, was full of them. But he’d never heard one just like that tinkling bell-sound.
The fact was, in the hare’s ears, the ringing had sounded like applause. Applause for his Big Jump.
Well, it was a mystery – that was all. Life was full of them. The hare, who didn’t like not knowing things, tried to forget about it.
Next night, the hare was strolling down a lane when he saw a bright light. It was a car’s headlight that had been left on by mistake. A number of moths were battering themselves against the hot glass.
“Stop that,” said the hare. “You’ll bruise yourselves.”
“We can’t stop!” they cried in frantic little voices. “We have to reach it! We have to!”
He couldn’t persuade them, so he worked a small spell on the light, switching it off. The moths breathed sighs of relief and flittered away safely, forgetting to thank him. The hare, feeling a bit miffed, was about to hop off when –
There it was again! That tinkling sound, a little fainter than last night, but quite definite – like somebody, or something, saying “Well done!”
This time the hare was determined to find it. He searched through the grass along the verge, he jumped, he bounced, he called out:
“Who made that tinkling noise? Come on, out with it! Who are you?”
