“Then why didn’t any of you DO something?” I asked. “You mayn’t be blest with brains, but there are hundreds and hundreds of you, big, stout fellows, as fat as butter, and your burrows running in all directions, and you could have taken him in and made him safe and comfortable, or tried to, at all events.” “What, US?” he merely said: “DO something? us rabbits?” So I cuffed him again and left him.¬†

Watercolour and pencil on paper, digital compositing. May 2014.

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Cowardly Rabbits