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"My dear," said Mr. Bunny, on a pleasant summer day,
"I'll go and take a look at things outside and far away
From this dull home of ours, where we've lived too long, you see--
Perchance I'll find a livelier place, my dear, for you and me."


Contented Mrs. Bunny, who was breakfasting just then
On the daintiest dew-wet fernleaf ever found in woodland glen,
Lifted her gray paws in horror: "My dear, my dear!" cried she,
"Let well enough alone; this home is good enough for me."


But off went Mr. Bunny, bent on having his own way,
And looking for a better home, did o'er the meadow stray;
There a wandering sportsman hungering for a dainty rabbit pie,
Raised his rifle, pulled the trigger--Bunny laid him down to die.


Now the little widow Bunny cries each day in doleful tone,
"Would my spouse advice had taken, and 'Let well enough alone!'"