An' tie yo' ears down onder yo' th'oat,
An' kivir yo' tail wid a cut-away coat,
Rabbit-hunters by de dozen
Would shek yo' han' an' call you cousin,
An' like as not, you onery sinner,
Dey'd ax' you home ter eat yo' dinner!
But don't you go, 'caze ef you do,
Dey'll set you down to rabbit-stew.
An' de shape o' dem bones an' de smell o' dat meal
'Ll meck you wish you was back in de fiel'.
An' ef you'd stretch yo' mouf too wide,
You know yo' ears mought come ontied;
An' when you'd jump, you couldn't fail
To show yo' little cotton tail,
An' den, 'fo' you could twis' yo' phiz,
Dey'd reconnize you who you is;
An' fo' you'd sca'cely bat yo' eye,
Dey'd have you skun an' in a pie,
Or maybe roasted on a coal,
Widout one thought about yo' soul.
So better teck ole Ephe's advice,
Des rig yo'se'f out slick an' nice,
An' tie yo' ears down, like I said,
An' hide yo' tail an' lif' yo' head.
"'WELL, ONE MO' RABBIT FUR DE POT'"
An' when you balumps on yo' foots,
It wouldn't hurt ter put on boots.
Den walk straight up, like Mr. Man,
An' when he offer you 'is han',
Des smile, an' gi'e yo' hat a tip;
But don't you show yo' rabbit lip.
An' don't you have a word ter say,
No mo'n ter pass de time o' day.