ContentsThird Slice

'Then let the fist of FriendshipBe kept for Friendship's foes.Ne'er let that hand in anger landOn Friendship's holy nose.'

These fine sentiments at once dispelled Bill's anger. He shook hands warmly with Sam, wiped the gravy from his face, and resumed breakfast with every appearance of hearty good humour.

The meal over, the breakfast things were put away in the bag, Sam and Bill took Puddin' between them, and all set off along the road, enlivening the way with song and story. Bill regaled them with portions of the 'Ballad of theSalt Junk Sarah', which is one of those songs that go on for ever. Its great advantage, as Bill remarked, was that as it hadn't got an ending it didn't need a beginning, so you could start it anywhere.

'As for instance,' said Bill, and he roared outâ€”

'Ho, aboard theSalt Junk Sarah,Rollin' home across the line,The Bo'sun collared the Captain's hatAnd threw it in the brine.Rollin' home, rollin' home,Rollin' home across the foam,The Captain sat without a hatThe whole way rollin' home.'

Entertaining themselves in this way as they strolled along, they were presently arrested by shouts of 'Fire! Fire!' and a Fireman in a large helmet came bolting down the road, pulling a fire hose behind him.

'Aha!' said Bill. 'Now we shall have the awe-inspirin' spectacle of a fire to entertain us,' and, accosting the Fireman, he demanded to know where the fire was.

'The fact is,' said the Fireman, 'that owing to the size of this helmet I can't see where it is; but if you will kindly glance at the surrounding district, you'll see it about somewhere.'

They glanced about and, sure enough, there was a fire burning in the next field. It was only a cowshed, certainly, but it was blazing very nicely, and well worth looking at.

'Fire,' said Bill, 'in the form of a common cowshed, is burnin' about nor'-nor'-east as the crow flies.'

'In that case,' said the Fireman, 'I invite all present bravely to assist in putting it out. But,' he added impressively, 'if you'll take my advice, you'll shove thatPuddin' in this hollow log and roll a stone agen the end to keep him in, for if he gets too near the flames he'll be cooked again and have his flavour ruined.'

'This is a very sensible feller,' said Bill, and though Puddin' objected strongly, he was at once pushed into a log and securely fastened in with a large stone.

'How'd you like to be shoved in a blooming log,' he shouted at Bill, 'when you was burning with anxiety to see the fire?' but Bill said severely, 'Be sensible, Albert, fires is too dangerous to Puddin's flavours.'

No more time was lost in seizing the hose and they set off with the greatest enthusiasm. For, as everyone knows, running with the reel is one of the grand joys of being a fireman. They had the hose fixed to a garden tap in no time, and soon were all hard at work, putting out the fire.

Of course there was a great deal of smoke and shouting, and getting tripped up by the hose, and it was by the merest chance Bunyip Bluegum glanced back in time to see the Wombat in the act of stealing the Puddin' from the hollow log.

'Treachery is at work,' he shouted.

'Treachery,' roared Bill, and with one blow on the snout knocked the Fireman endways on into the burning cinders, where his helmet fell off, and exposed the countenance of that snooting, snouting scoundrel, the Possum.

The Possum, of course, hadn't expected to have his disguise pierced so swiftly, and, though he managed to scramble out of the fire in time to save his bacon, he was considerably singed down the back.

'What a murderous attack!' he exclaimed. 'O, what a brutal attempt to burn a man alive!' and as some hot cinders had got down his back he gave a sharp yell and ran off, singeing and smoking. Bill, distracted with rage, ran after the Possum, then changed his mind and ran after the Wombat, so that, what with running first after one and then after the other, they both had time to get clean away, and disappeared over the skyline.

'I see it all,' shouted Bill, casting himself down in despair. 'Them low puddin'-thieves has borrowed a fireman's helmet, collared a hose, an' set fire to a cowshed in order to lure us away from the Puddin'.'

'The whole thing's a low put-up job on our noble credulity,' said Sam, casting himself down beside Bill.

'It's one of the most frightful things that's ever happened,' said Bill.

'It's worse than treading on tacks with bare feet,' said Sam.

'It's worse than bein' caught stealin' fowls,' said Bill.

'It's worse than bein' stood on by cows,' said Sam.

'It's almost as bad as havin' an uncle called Aldobrantifoscofornio,' said Bill, and they both sang loudlyâ€”

'It's worse than weevils, worse than warts,It's worse than corns to bear.It's worse than havin' several quartsOf treacle in your hair.'It's worse than beetles in the soup,It's worse than crows to eat.It's worse than wearin' small-sized bootsUpon your large-sized feet.'It's worse than kerosene to boose,It's worse than ginger hair.It's worse than anythin' to loseA Puddin' rich and rare.'

'It's worse than weevils, worse than warts,It's worse than corns to bear.It's worse than havin' several quartsOf treacle in your hair.

'It's worse than beetles in the soup,It's worse than crows to eat.It's worse than wearin' small-sized bootsUpon your large-sized feet.

'It's worse than kerosene to boose,It's worse than ginger hair.It's worse than anythin' to loseA Puddin' rich and rare.'

Bunyip Bluegum reproved this despondency, saying, 'Come, come, this is no time for giving way to despair. Let us, rather, by the fortitude of our bearing prove ourselves superior to this misfortune and, with the energy of justly enraged men, pursue these malefactors, who have so richly deserved our vengeance. Arise!'

'Bravely spoken,' said Bill, immediately recovering from despair.

'The grass is green, the day is fair,The dandelions abound.Is this a time for sad despairAnd sitting on the ground?'Our Puddin' in some darksome lairIn iron chains is bound,While puddin'-snatchers on him fare,And eat him by the pound.'Let gloom give way to angry glare,Let weak despair be drowned,Let vengeance in its rage declareOur Puddin'MUSTbe found.'Then let's resolve to do and dare.Let teeth with rage be ground.Let voices to the heavens declareOur Puddin'MUSTbe found.'

'The grass is green, the day is fair,The dandelions abound.Is this a time for sad despairAnd sitting on the ground?

'Our Puddin' in some darksome lairIn iron chains is bound,While puddin'-snatchers on him fare,And eat him by the pound.

'Let gloom give way to angry glare,Let weak despair be drowned,Let vengeance in its rage declareOur Puddin'MUSTbe found.

'Then let's resolve to do and dare.Let teeth with rage be ground.Let voices to the heavens declareOur Puddin'MUSTbe found.'

'Those gallant words have fired our blood,' said Sam, and they both shook hands with Bunyip, to show that they were now prepared to follow the call of vengeance.

'In order to investigate this dastardly outrage,' said Bunyip, 'we must become detectives, and find a clue. We must find somebody who has seen a singed possum. Once traced to their lair, mother-wit will suggest some means of rescuing our Puddin'.'

They set off at once, and, after a brisk walk, came to a small house with a signboard on it saying, 'Henderson Hedgehog, Horticulturist'. Henderson himself was in the garden, horticulturing a cabbage, and they asked him if he had chanced to see a singed possum that morning.

'What's that? What, what?' said Henderson Hedgehog, and when they had repeated the question, he said, 'You must speak up, I'm a trifle deaf.'

'HAVE YOU SEEN A SINGED POSSUM?' shouted Bill.

'I can't hear you,' said Henderson.

'Have you seen aSINGED POSSUM?' roared Bill.

'To be sure,' said Henderson, 'but the turnips are backward.'

'Turnips be stewed,' yelled Bill in such a tremendous voice that he blew his own hat off. 'HAVE YOU SEEN A SINGED POSSUM?'

'Good season for wattle blossom,' said Henderson. 'Well, yes, but a very poor season for carrots.'

'A man might as well talk to a carrot as try an' get sense out of this runt of a feller,' said Bill, disgusted. 'Come an' see if we can't find someone that it won't bust a man's vocal cords gettin' information out of.'

They left Henderson to his horticulturing and walked on till they met a Parrot who was a Swagman, or a Swagman who was a Parrot. He must have been one or the other, if not both, for he had a bag and a swag, and a beak, and a billy, and a thundering bad temper into the bargain, for the moment Bill asked him if he had met a singed possum he shouted backâ€”

'Me eat a singed possum! I wouldn't eat a possum if he was singed, roasted, boiled, or fried.'

'Not ettâ€”met,' shouted Bill. 'I said, met a singed possum.'

'Why can't yer speak plainly, then,' said the Parrot. 'Have you got a fill of tobacco on yer?'

He took out his pipe and scowled at Bill.

'Here you are,' said Bill. 'Cut a fill an' answer the question.'

'All in good time,' said the Parrot, and he added to Sam, 'You got any tobacco?'

Sam handed him a fill, and he put it in his pocket. 'You ain't got any tobacco,' he said scornfully to Bunyip Bluegum. 'I can see that at a glance. You're one of the non-smoking sort, all fur and feathers.'

'Here,' said Bill angrily. 'Enough o' this beatin' about the bush. Answer the question.'

'Don't be impatient,' said the Parrot. 'Have you got a bit o' tea an' sugar on yer?'

'Here's yer tea an' sugar,' said Bill, handing a little of each out of the bag. 'And that's the last thing you get. Now will you answer the question?'

'Wot question?' asked the Parrot.

'Have yer seen a singed possum?' roared Bill.

'No, I haven't,' said the Parrot, and he actually had the insolence to laugh in Bill's face.

'Of all the swivel-eyed, up-jumped, cross-grained, sons of a cock-eyed tinker,' exclaimed Bill, boiling with rage. 'If punching parrots on the beak wasn't too painful for pleasure, I'd land you a sockdolager on the muzzle that 'ud lay you out till Christmas. Come on, mates,' he added, 'it's no use wastin' time over this low-down, hook-nosed tobacco-grabber.' And leaving the evil-minded Parrot to pursue his evil-minded way, they hurried off in search of information.

The next person they spied was a Bandicoot carrying a watermelon. At a first glance you would have thought it was merely a watermelon walking by itself, but a second glance would have shown you that the walking was being done by a small pair of legs attached to the watermelon, and a third glance would have disclosed that the legs were attached to a Bandicoot.

They shouted, 'Hi, you with the melon!' to attract his attention, and set off running after him, and the Bandicoot, being naturally of a terrified disposition, ran for all he was worth. He wasn't worth much as arunner, owing to the weight of the watermelon, and they caught him up half-way across the field.

Conceiving that his hour had come, the Bandicoot gave a shrill squeak of terror and fell on his knees.

'Take me watermelon,' he gasped,'but spare me life.'

'Stuff an' nonsense,' said Bill. 'We don't want your life. What we want is some information. Have you seen a singed possum about this morning?'

'Singed possums, sir, yes sir, certainly sir,' gasped the Bandicoot, trembling violently.

'What!' exclaimed Bill, 'do yer mean to say you have seen a singed possum?'

'Singed possums, sir, yes sir,' gulped the Bandicoot. 'Very plentiful, sir, this time of the year, sir, owing to the bush fires, sir.'

'Rubbish,' roared Bill. 'I don't believe he's seen a singed possum at all.'

'No, sir,' quavered the Bandicoot. 'Certainly not, sir. Wouldn't think of seeing singed possums if there was any objection, sir.'

'You're a poltroon,' shouted Bill. 'You're a slaverin', quaverin', melon-carryin' nincompoop. There's no more chance of getting information out of you than out of a terrified Turnip.'

Leaving the Bandicoot to pursue his quavering, melon-humping existence, they set off again, Bill giving way to some very despondent expressions.

'As far as I can see,' he said, 'if we can't find somethin' better than stone-deaf hedgehogs, peevish parrots, and funkin' bandicoots we may as well give way to despair.'

Bunyip Bluegum was forced to exert his finest oratory to inspire them to another frame of mind. 'Let it never be said,' he exclaimed, 'that the unconquerable hearts of Puddin'-owners quailed before a parrot, a hedgehog, or a bandicoot.'

'Let hedgehogs deaf go delve and dig,Immune from loudest howl,Let bandicoots lump melons big,Let peevish parrots prowl.'Shall puddin'-owners bow the headAt such affronts as these?No, No! March on, by anger led,Our Puddin' to release.'Let courage high resolve inflameOur captive Pud to free;Our banner wave, our words proclaimWe march to victory!'

'Let hedgehogs deaf go delve and dig,Immune from loudest howl,Let bandicoots lump melons big,Let peevish parrots prowl.

'Shall puddin'-owners bow the headAt such affronts as these?No, No! March on, by anger led,Our Puddin' to release.

'Let courage high resolve inflameOur captive Pud to free;Our banner wave, our words proclaimWe march to victory!'

'Bravely sung,' exclaimed Bill, grasping Bunyip Bluegum by the hand, and they proceeded with expressions of the greatest courage and determination.

As a reward for this renewed activity, they got some useful information from a Rooster who was standing at his front gate looking up and down the road, and wishing to heaven that somebody would come along for him to talk to. They got, in fact, a good deal more information than they asked for, for the Rooster was one of those fine up-standing, bumptious skites who love to talk all day, in the heartiest manner, to total strangers while their wives do the washing.

'Singed possum,' he exclaimed, when they had put the usual question to him. 'Now, what an extraordinary thing that you should come along and ask me that question. What an astounding and incredible thingthat you should actually use the word "singed" in connexion with the word "possum". Though mind you, the word I had in my mind was not "singed", but "burning". And not "possum", but "feathers". Now, I'll tell you why. Only this morning, as I was standing here, I said to myself "somebody's been burning feathers". I called out at once to the wifeâ€”fine woman, the wife, you'll meet her presentlyâ€”"Have you been burning feathers?" "No", says she. "Well," said I, "if you haven't been burning feathers, somebody else has." At the very moment that I'm repeating the words "feathers" and "burning" you come along andrepeat the words "singed" and "possum". Instantly I call to mind that at the identical moment that I smelt something burning, I saw a possum passing this very gate, though whether he happened to be singed or not I didn't inquire.'

'Which way did he go?' inquired Bill excitedly.

'Now, let me see,' said the Rooster. 'He went down the road, turned to the right, gave a jump and a howl, and set off in the direction of Watkin Wombat's summer residence.'

'The very man we're after,' shouted Bill, and bolted off down the road, followed by the others, without taking any notice of the Rooster's request to wait a minute and be introduced to the wife.

'His wife may be all right,' said Bill as they ran, 'but what I say is, blow meetin' a bloomin' old Rooster's wife when you haven't got a year to waste listenin' to a bloomin' old Rooster.'

They followed the Rooster's directions with the utmost rapidity, and came to a large hollow tree with a door in the side and a notice-board nailed up which said, 'Watkin Wombat, Esq., Summer Residence'.

The door was locked, but it was clear that the puddin'-thieves were inside, because they heard the Possum say peevishly, 'You're eating too much, and here's me, most severely singed, not getting sufficient', and the Wombat was heard to say, 'What you want is soap', but the Possum said angrily, 'What I need is immense quantities of puddin'.'

The avengers drew aside to hold a consultation.

'What's to be done?' said Bill. 'It's no use knockin', because they'd look through the keyhole and refuse to come out, and, not bein' burglars, we can't bust the door in. It seems to me that there's nothin' for it but to give way to despair.'

'Never give way to despair while whiskers can be made from dry grass,' said Bunyip Bluegum, and suiting the action to the word, he swiftly made a pair of fine moustaches out of dried grass and stuck them on with wattle gum. 'Now, lend me your hat,' he said to Bill, and taking the hat he turned up the brim, dented in the top, and put it on. 'The bag is also required,' he said to Sam, and taking that in his hand and turning his coat inside out, he stood before them completely disguised.

'You two,' he said, 'must remain in hiding behindthe tree. You will hear me knock, accost the ruffians and hold them in conversation. The moment you hear me exclaim loudly, "Hey, Presto! Pots and Pans", you will dart out and engage the villains at fisticuffs. The rest leave to me.'

Waiting till the others were hidden behind the tree,Bunyip rapped smartly on the door which opened presently and the Wombat put his head out cautiously.

'Have I the extreme pleasure of addressing Watkin Wombat, Esq.?' inquired Bunyip Bluegum, with a bow.

Of course, seeing a perfect stranger at the door, the Wombat had no suspicions, and said at once, 'Such is the name of him you see before you.'

'I have called to see you,' said Bunyip, 'on a matter of business. The commodity which I vend is Pootles's Patent Pudding Enlarger, samples of which I have in the bag. As a guarantee of good faith we are giving samples of our famous Enlarger away to all well-known Puddin'-owners. The Enlarger, one of the wonders of modern science, has but to be poured over the puddin', with certain necessary incantations, and the puddin' will be instantly enlarged to double its normal size.' He took some sugar from the bag and held it up. 'I am now about to hand you some of this wonderful discovery. But,' he added impressively, 'the operation of enlarging the puddin' is a delicate one, and must be performed in the open air. Produce your puddin', and I will at once apply Pootles's Patent with marvellous effect.'

'Of course it's understood that no charge is to be made,' said the Possum, hurrying out.

'No charge whatever,' said Bunyip Bluegum.

So on the principle of always getting something for nothing, as the Wombat said, Puddin' was brought out and placed on the ground.

'Now watch me closely,' said Bunyip Bluegum. He sprinkled the Puddin' with sugar, made several passes with his hands, and pronounced these wordsâ€”

'Who incantations uttersHe generally muttersHis gruesome blasts and bansBut I, you need not doubt it,Prefer aloud to shout it,Hey, Presto! Pots and Pans.'

Out sprang Bill and Sam and set about the puddin'-thieves like a pair of windmills, giving them such a clip-clap clouting and a flip-flap flouting, that what with being punched and pounded, and clipped andclapped, they had only enough breath left to give two shrieks of despair while scrambling back into Watkin Wombat's Summer Residence, and banging the door behind them. The three friends had Puddin' secured in no time, and shook hands all round, congratulating Bunyip Bluegum on the success of his plan.

'Your noble actin',' said Bill, 'has saved our Puddin's life.'

'Them puddin'-thieves,' said Sam, 'was children in your hands.'

'We hear you,' sang out the Possum, and the Wombat added, 'Oh, what deceit!'

'Enough of you two,' shouted Bill. 'If we catch you sneakin' after our Puddin' again, you'll get such a beltin' that you'll wish you was vegetarians. And now,' said he, 'for a glorious reunion round the camp fire.'

And a glorious reunion they had, tucking into hot steak-and-kidney puddin' and boiled jam roll, which, after the exertions of the day, went down, as Bill said, 'Grand'.

'If them puddin'-thieves ain't sufferin' the agonies of despair at this very moment, I'll eat my hat along with the Puddin',' said Bill, exultantly.

'Indeed,' said Bunyip Bluegum, 'the consciousness that our enemies are deservedly the victims of acute mental and physical anguish, imparts, it must be admitted, an additional flavour to the admirable Puddin'.'

'Well spoken,' said Bill, admiringly. 'Which I will say, that for turning off a few well-chosen words no parson in the land is the equal of yourself.'

'Your health!' said Bunyip Bluegum.

The singing that evening was particularly loud and prolonged, owing to the satisfaction they all felt at the recovery of their beloved Puddin'. The Puddin', who had got the sulks over Sam's remarks that fifteen goesof steak-and-kidney were enough for any self-respecting man, protested against the singing, which, he said, disturbed his gravy. '"More eating and less noise" is my motto,' he said, and he called Bill a leather-headed old barrel organ for reproving him.

'Albert is a spoilt child, I fear,' said Bill, shoving him into the bag to keep him quiet, and without more ado, led off withâ€”

'Ho! aboard theSalt Junk Sarah,Rollin' home around the Horn,The Bo'sun pulls the Captain's noseFor treatin' him with scorn.'Rollin' home, rollin' home,Rollin' home across the foam.The Bo'sun goes with thumps and blowsThe whole way rollin' home.'

'Ho! aboard theSalt Junk Sarah,Rollin' home around the Horn,The Bo'sun pulls the Captain's noseFor treatin' him with scorn.

'Rollin' home, rollin' home,Rollin' home across the foam.The Bo'sun goes with thumps and blowsThe whole way rollin' home.'

'But,' said Bill to Bunyip Bluegum, after about fifteen verses of theSalt Junk Sarah, 'the superior skill, ingenuity and darin' with which you bested them puddin'-snatchers reminds me of a similar incident in Sam's youth, which I will now sing you. The incident, though similar as regards courage an' darin', is totally different in regard to everythin' else, and is entitledâ€”

''Twas on theSaucy Soup Tureen,That Sam was foremast hand,When on the quarter-deck was seenA maiding fit to be a QueenWith her old Uncle stand.'And Sam at once was sunk allIn passion deep and grand,But this here aged UncleHe was the Hearl of BuncleAnd Sam a foremast hand.'And Sam he chewed salt junk allDay with grief forlorn,Because the Hearl of Buncle,The lovely maiding's Uncle,Regarded him with scorn.'When sailin' by Barbado,TheSaucy Soup Tureen,Before she could be stayed-OWent down in a tornado,And never more was seen.

''Twas on theSaucy Soup Tureen,That Sam was foremast hand,When on the quarter-deck was seenA maiding fit to be a QueenWith her old Uncle stand.

'And Sam at once was sunk allIn passion deep and grand,But this here aged UncleHe was the Hearl of BuncleAnd Sam a foremast hand.

'And Sam he chewed salt junk allDay with grief forlorn,Because the Hearl of Buncle,The lovely maiding's Uncle,Regarded him with scorn.

'When sailin' by Barbado,TheSaucy Soup Tureen,Before she could be stayed-OWent down in a tornado,And never more was seen.

'The passengers were sunk allBeneath the ragin' wave,The maiding and her Uncle,The Noble Hearl of Buncle,Were saved by Sam the Brave.

'He saved the Noble BuncleBy divin' off the poop.The maiding in a funk allHe, saved along with UncleUpon a chicken coop.'And this here niece of Buncle,When they got safe to land,For havin' saved her Uncle,The Noble Hearl of Buncle,She offered Sam her hand.'And that old Uncle Buncle,For joy of his release,On Burgundy got drunk allDay in Castle Buncle,Which hastened his decease.'The lovely maiding BuncleInherited the land;And, now her aged UncleHas gone, the Hearl of BuncleIs Sam, the foremast hand.'

'He saved the Noble BuncleBy divin' off the poop.The maiding in a funk allHe, saved along with UncleUpon a chicken coop.

'And this here niece of Buncle,When they got safe to land,For havin' saved her Uncle,The Noble Hearl of Buncle,She offered Sam her hand.

'And that old Uncle Buncle,For joy of his release,On Burgundy got drunk allDay in Castle Buncle,Which hastened his decease.

'The lovely maiding BuncleInherited the land;And, now her aged UncleHas gone, the Hearl of BuncleIs Sam, the foremast hand.'

'Of course,' said Sam modestly, 'the song goes too far in sayin' as how I married the Hearl's niece, because, for one thing, I ain't a marryin' man, and for another thing, what she really sez to me when we got to land was, "You're a noble feller, an' here's five shillin's for you, and any time you happen to be round our way, just give a ring at the servants' bell, and there'll always be a feed waitin' for you in the kitchen." However, you've got to have songs to fill in the time with, and when a feller's got a rotten word like Buncle to find rhymes for, there's no sayin' how a song'll end.'

'The exigencies of rhyme,' said Bunyip Bluegum, 'may stand excused from a too strict insistence on verisimilitude, so that the general gaiety is thereby promoted. And now,' he added, 'before retiring to rest, let us all join in song,' and grasping each other's hands they loudly sangâ€”

'Let feeble feeders stoopTo plates of oyster soup.Let pap engageThe gums of ageAnd appetites that droop;We much prefer to chewA Steak-and-kidney stew.'Let yokels coarse appeaseTheir appetites with cheese.Let women dreamOf cakes and cream,We scorn fal-lals like these;Our sterner sex extolsThe joy of boiled jam rolls.'We scorn digestive pills;Give us the food that fills;Who bravely stuffThemselves with Duff,May laugh at Doctor's bills.For medicine, partakeOf kidney, stewed with steak.'Then plight our faith anewThree puddin'-owners true,Who boldly claimIn Friendship's nameThe noble Irish stoo,Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurroo!'

'Let feeble feeders stoopTo plates of oyster soup.Let pap engageThe gums of ageAnd appetites that droop;We much prefer to chewA Steak-and-kidney stew.

'Let yokels coarse appeaseTheir appetites with cheese.Let women dreamOf cakes and cream,We scorn fal-lals like these;Our sterner sex extolsThe joy of boiled jam rolls.

'We scorn digestive pills;Give us the food that fills;Who bravely stuffThemselves with Duff,May laugh at Doctor's bills.For medicine, partakeOf kidney, stewed with steak.

'Then plight our faith anewThree puddin'-owners true,Who boldly claimIn Friendship's nameThe noble Irish stoo,Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurroo!'

'After our experience of yesterday,' said Bill Barnacle as the company of Puddin'-owners set off along the road with their Puddin', 'we shall have to be particularly careful. For what with low puddin'-thieves disguising themselves as firemen, and low Wombatssneakin' our Puddin' while we're helpin' to put out fires, not to speak of all the worry and bother of tryin' to get information out of parrots and bandicoots an' hedgehogs, why, it's enough to make a man suspect his own grandfather of bein' a puddin'-snatcher.'

'As for me,' said Sam Sawnoff, practising boxing attitudes as he walked along, 'I feel like laying out the first man we meet on the off-chance of his being a puddin'-thief.'

'Indeed,' observed Bunyip Bluegum, 'to have one's noblest feelings outraged by reposing a too great trust in unworthy people, is to end by regarding all humanity with an equal suspicion.'

'If you ask my opinion,' said the Puddin' cynically, 'them puddin'-thieves are too clever for you; and, what's more, they're better eaters than you. Why,' said the Puddin', sneering at Bill, 'I'll back one puddin'-thief to eat more in a given time than three Puddin'-owners put together.'

'These are very treacherous sentiments, Albert,' said Bill sternly. 'These are very ignoble and shameless words,' but the Puddin' merely laughed scornfully, and called Bill a bun-headed old beetle-crusher.

'Very well,' said Bill, enraged, 'we shall see if a low puddin'-thief is better than a noble Puddin'-owner. When you see the terrible suspicions I shall indulge in to-day you'll regret them words.'

To prove his words Bill insisted on closely inspecting everybody he met, in case they should be puddin'-thieves in disguise.

To start off with, they had an unpleasant scene with a Kookaburra, a low larrikin who resented the way that Bill examined him.

'Who are you starin' at, Poodle's Whiskers?' he asked.

'Never mind,' said Bill. 'I'm starin' at you for a good an' sufficient reason.'

'Are yer?' said the Kookaburra. 'Well, all I can say is that if yer don't take yer dial outer the road I'll bloomin' well take an' bounce a gibber off yer crust,' and he followed them for quite a long way, singing out insulting things such as, 'You with the wire whiskers,' and 'Get onter the bloke with the face fringe.'

Bill, of course, treated this conduct with silent contempt. It was his rule through life, he said, never to fight people with beaks.

The next encounter they had was with a Flying-fox who, though not so vulgar and rude as the Kookaburra, was equally enraged because, as Bill had suspicions that he was the Possum disguised, he insisted on measuring him to see if he was the same length.

'Nice goings on, indeed,' said the Flying-fox, while Bill was measuring him, 'if a man can't go about his business without being measured by total strangers. Anice thing, indeed, to happen to Finglebury Flying-fox, the well-known and respected fruit stealer.'

However, he was found to be six inches too short, so they let him go, and he hurried off, saying, 'I shall have the Law on you for this, measuring a man in a public place without being licensed as a tailor.'

The third disturbance due to Bill's suspicions occurred while Bunyip Bluegum was in a grocer's shop. They had run out of tea and sugar, and happening to pass through the town of Bungledoo took the opportunity of laying in a fresh supply. If Bunyip hadn't been in the shop, as was pointed out afterwards, the trouble wouldn't have occurred. The first he heard of it was a scream of 'Help, help, murder is being done!' and rushing out of theshop, what was his amazement to see no less a person than his Uncle Wattleberry bounding and plunging about the road with Bill hanging on to his whiskers, and Sam hanging on to one leg.

'I've got him,' shouted Bill. 'Catch a hold of his other leg and give me a chance to get his whiskers off.'

'But why are you taking his whiskers off?' inquired Bunyip Bluegum.

'Because they're stuck on with glue,' shouted Bill. 'I saw it at a glance. It's Watkin Wombat, Esq., disguised as a company promoter.'

'Dear me,' said Bunyip, hurriedly, 'you are making a mistake. This is not a puddin'-thief, this is an Uncle.'

'A what?' exclaimed Bill, letting go the whiskers.

'An Uncle,' replied Bunyip Bluegum.

'An Uncle,' roared Uncle Wattleberry. 'An Uncle ofthe highest integrity. You have most disgracefully and unmercifully pulled an Uncle's whiskers.'

'I can assure you,' said Bill, 'I pulled them under the delusion that you was a disguised Wombat.'

'That is no excuse, sir,' bellowed Uncle Wattleberry. 'No one but an unmitigated ruffian would pull an Uncle's whiskers.

'Who but the basest scoundrel, double-eyed,Would pluck an Uncle's whiskers in their pride,What baseness, then, doth such a man discloseWho'd raise a hand to pluck an Uncle's nose?'

'If I've gone too far,' said Bill, 'I apologize. If I'd known you was an Uncle I wouldn't have done it.'

'Apologies are totally inadequate,' shouted Uncle Wattleberry. 'Nothing short of felling you to the earth with an umbrella could possibly atone for the outrage. You are a danger to the whisker-growing public. You have knocked my hat off, pulled my whiskers, and tried to remove my nose.'

'Pullin' your nose,' said Bill, solemnly, 'is a mistake any man might make, for I put it to all present, as man to man, if that nose don't look as if it's only gummed on.'

All present were forced to admit that it was a mistake that any man might make. 'Any man,' as Sam remarked, 'would think he was doing you a kindness by trying to pull it off.'

'Allow me to point out also, my dear Uncle,' said Bunyip Bluegum, 'that your whiskers were responsible for this seeming outrage. Let your anger, then, be assuaged by the consciousness that you are the victim, not of malice, but of the misfortune of wearing whiskers.'

'How now,' exclaimed Uncle Wattleberry. 'My nephew Bunyip among these sacrilegious whisker-pluckers and nose-pullers. My nephew, not only aiding and abetting these ruffians, but seeking to palliate their crimes! This is too much. My feelings are such that nothing but bounding and plunging can relieve them.'

And thereupon did Uncle Wattleberry proceed to bound and plunge with the greatest activity, shouting all the whileâ€”

'You need not think I bound and plungeLike this in festive mood.I bound that bounding may expungeThe thought of insult rude.'An Uncle's rage must seek relief,His anger must be drowned;It is to soothe an Uncle's griefThat thus I plunge and bound.'I bound and plunge, I seethe with rage,My mighty anger seeksSo much relief that I engageTo plunge and bound for weeks.'

'You need not think I bound and plungeLike this in festive mood.I bound that bounding may expungeThe thought of insult rude.

'An Uncle's rage must seek relief,His anger must be drowned;It is to soothe an Uncle's griefThat thus I plunge and bound.

'I bound and plunge, I seethe with rage,My mighty anger seeksSo much relief that I engageTo plunge and bound for weeks.'

Seeing that there was no possibility of inducing Uncle Wattleberry to look at the affair in a reasonable light, they walked off and left him to continue his bounding and plunging for the amusement of the people of Bungledoo, who brought their chairs out on to the footpath in order to enjoy the sight at their ease. Bill's intention to regard everybody he met with suspicion was somewhat damped by this mistake, and he said there ought to be a law to prevent a man going about looking as if he was a disguised puddin'-thief.

The most annoying part of it all was that when the puddin'-thieves did make their appearance they weren't disguised at all. They were dressed as common ordinarypuddin'-thieves, save that the Possum carried a bran bag in his hand and the Wombat waved a white flag.

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