The Magic Pudding Part 7

'But,' said Bill to Bunyip Bluegum, after about fifteen verses of the _Salt Junk Sarah_, 'the superior skill, ingenuity and darin' with which you bested them puddin'-s.n.a.t.c.hers 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 ent.i.tled--

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THE PENGUIN'S BRIDE

''Twas on the _Saucy Soup Tureen_, That Sam was foremast hand, When on the quarter-deck was seen A maiding fit to be a Queen With her old Uncle stand.

'And Sam at once was sunk all In pa.s.sion deep and grand, But this here aged Uncle He was the Hearl of Buncle And Sam a foremast hand.

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

'When sailin' by Barbado, The _Saucy Soup Tureen_, Before she could be stayed-O Went down in a tornado, And never more was seen.

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'The pa.s.sengers were sunk all Beneath the ragin' wave, The maiding and her Uncle, The n.o.ble Hearl of Buncle, Were saved by Sam the Brave.

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'He saved the n.o.ble Buncle By divin' off the p.o.o.p.

The maiding in a funk all He, saved along with Uncle Upon a chicken coop.

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

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

'The lovely maiding Buncle Inherited the land; And, now her aged Uncle Has gone, the Hearl of Buncle Is Sam, the foremast hand.'

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'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 n.o.ble 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 sang--

THE PUDDIN'-OWNERS' EVENSONG

'Let feeble feeders stoop To plates of oyster soup.

Let pap engage The gums of age And appet.i.tes that droop; We much prefer to chew A Steak-and-kidney stew.

'Let yokels coa.r.s.e appease Their appet.i.tes with cheese.

Let women dream Of cakes and cream, We scorn fal-lals like these; Our sterner s.e.x extols The joy of boiled jam rolls.

'We scorn digestive pills; Give us the food that fills; Who bravely stuff Themselves with Duff, May laugh at Doctor's bills.

For medicine, partake Of kidney, stewed with steak.

'Then plight our faith anew Three puddin'-owners true, Who boldly claim In Friendship's name The n.o.ble Irish stoo, Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurroo!'

Third Slice

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'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 Wombats sneakin' 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'-s.n.a.t.c.her.'

'As for me,' said Sam Sawnoff, practising boxing att.i.tudes 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 n.o.blest 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 ign.o.ble 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 n.o.ble 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.

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'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. A nice 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.'

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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 pa.s.s 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 the shop, 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.

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