Once upon a time a hare challenged a tortoise to a race and told the whole meadow it would take four to six weeks. He said it on the first of the month, on the second, on the seventh, on the thirteenth and on the twenty-sixth, so that nobody could say they had not heard.
The meadow priced it in. The oats went up a little. "A small price," said the hare, "for a race that is nearly over."
Seven months later the hare was still running. The oats were still up. The tortoise had not been seen since spring, which the hare counted as a result.
A sparrow asked when the race would end. The hare said he could not say, that he had his own idea, and that it would be as long as it was necessary. Then he said he would feel it in his bones.
By autumn the meadow was restless, so the hare issued a statement. He had said, numerous times, that it would take four to six weeks to get rid of the tortoise, and he had done it in one night. The rest of the running was just to make sure the tortoise stayed got rid of.
"But we heard four to six weeks for the race," said the sparrow, who had written it down five times. "No," said the hare. "The magpies fed it to you."
Winning on the first night is easy. The hard part is the other two hundred.