UN rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run,’ warn those great Cockney chanteurs Chas & Dave. ‘Don’t give the farmer his fun, fun, fun.’ The song, which is rather darker than its jaunty tone suggests, was a childhood favourite, endlessly repeated on the old record player in our father’s study. We far preferred their rowdy, rambunctious cover to the polite and proper wartime original. ‘He’ll get by without his rabbit pie,’ they growled, ‘so run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.’ My sister, who had a large, indolent creature called Loppy Lugs, was very much on the
