Hare Fat

Once, a nobleman set off on a long journey. He climbed into a carriage drawn by a pair of horses, took his coachman Hrytsko with him, and off they went.

They rode and rode—no taverns, no huts, no passersby on the road. The nobleman grew bored. Hrytsko sang songs, Hrytsko shouted at the horses, but the nobleman remained silent. After all, it wasn’t proper for him, you see, to converse with a simple peasant.

Well, they rode and rode, silent and silent, until the nobleman became sick with boredom. Just then, a hare leaped out of the forest. So the nobleman started a conversation:

"Did you see that hare, Hrytsko?"
"Uh-huh."
"Nice hare, Hrytsko?"
"Mhm."
"Oh, come on! Is that even a hare?! The hares in my forest, now those are hares! And how many there are! I brought them from abroad to breed. You hear me?"
"Wow."
"So, I brought them from abroad, and they multiplied like poppy seeds in a poppy field. Once, I went hunting and took ten beaters with me. They started driving hares toward me: one, then another, then a tenth, then hundreds, thousands... You hear me, Hrytsko?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, they drove them, and I just went 'bang! bang!' I bagged about fifty of them. Don’t you believe me?"
"Why wouldn’t I? It happens."
They rode on. Silence again.

"Hrytsko, oh Hrytsko," the nobleman said, "I once shot a hare so big—well, like a ram. When they skinned it and started rendering the fat, they got half a pood. That’s the kind of hares I have!"
"It happens..."
"Well, maybe even a whole pood."

Hrytsko listened and listened, then suddenly shouted to the horses:
"Giddy-up, my dears, soon we’ll reach that bridge that collapses under liars!"
The nobleman heard this and said:
"Well, Hrytsko, that’s the kind of hares we have... True, there wasn’t half a pood, but about ten pounds were rendered."
"Of course, a hare’s a hare."
They rode on. The nobleman fidgeted in the carriage:
"So, Hrytsko, will that bridge you mentioned be soon?"
"Yes, soon, sir."
"You know, Hrytsko, maybe that hare didn’t even have ten pounds of fat. More like three or four."
"What do I care? Let it be... Just a little farther."
"So, Hrytsko, will that bridge be soon?"
"Yes, soon, sir. We’re about to descend into the valley."
"Wait, Hrytsko, don’t rush the horses. They’re tired. You know, that little hare wasn’t even fat—just a tiny bit."
"Well, never mind... Here’s the valley, sir."
"Hmm, you know, Hrytsko, what kind of hare was that anyway? Skin and bones. Not a speck of fat on it. A scrawny little hare. Didn’t even grow decent meat."
"Of course," said Hrytsko, "a hare’s a hare."
They descended into the valley, and the nobleman asked:
"So, Hrytsko, where’s that bridge?"
"Well, sir, it melted away, just like that hare fat you were talking about."

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Hare Fat

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