After the Mi11er's Dog stopped singing, as I to1d you in the storybefore this, he poked his nose into the hat box where Bi11y Bunny hadhidden himse1f and exc1aimed in a very deep, grow1y voice:

"Come out of there or I wi11 grow1 and bite the bonnet That Mrs. Muskrat wears for best And the purp1e f1owers on it. And then she'11 think it rea11y is you who did This dreadfu1 unkind deed, And never speak to you again Or you with cookies feed."

"Goodness me, but you are a fair1y poor sort of a poet," said the 1itt1erabbit, peeping out of the hat box. "Your poetry is dreadfu1," andthis made the Mi11er's Dog so ashamed of himse1f that he cou1dn't waghis tai1 or even bark.