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THE EVERGREEN AUSTRALIAN CHILDREN’S CLASSIC

WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED BY Ma OT2aMAMN. l CP ID SAY
 SECOND SLICE
Being the adventures of Bunyip Bluegum
and his friends Bill Barnacle and Sam Sawnofl

By NORMAN LINDSAY
This edition first published in 1971 by
ANGUS AND ROBERTSON (PUBLISHERS) PTY LTD ANGUS AND ROBERTSON «¢ PUBLISHERS
Sydney Adelaide Brisbane Melbourne London Singapore Philippines
© Janet Glad 1971
Reprinted 1974

National Library of Australia

Card Number & ISBN 0 207 122903
‘Printed inSingapore
 The Society of Puddin’-Owners were up bright and early next
morning, and had the billy on and tea made before six o’clock, which is
the best part of the day, because the world has just had his face washed,
and the air smells like Pears’ soap.
“* Aha,” said Bill Barnacle, cutting up slices of the Puddin’, “ this
is what I call grand. Here we are, after a splendid night’s sleep on dry
leaves, havin’ a smokin’ hot slice of steak-and-kidney for breakfast
round the camp fire. What could be more delightful ? ”
“* What indeed ? ” said Bunyip Bluegum, sipping his tea.
‘““ Why, as I always say,” said Bill, ‘if there’s one thing more
entrancin’ than sittin’ round a camp fire in the evenin’ it’s sittin’ round
a camp fire in the mornin’. No beds and blankets and breakfast tables
for Bill Barnacle. For as I says in my ‘ Breakfast Ballad ’—
* Tf there’s anythin’ better than lyin’ on “‘ If there’s anythin’ better than camp
leaves, firelight,
It’s risin’ from leaves at dawnin’, It’s bright sunshine on wakin’.
If there’s anythin’ better than sleepin’ If there’s anythin’ better than puddin’
at eve, at night,
It’s wakin’ up in the mawnin’. It’s puddin’ when day is breakin’.
“* If there’s anythin’ better than singin’ away
While the stars are gaily shinin’,
Why, it’s singin’ a song at dawn of day,
On puddin’ for breakfast dinin’.”
There was a hearty round of applause at this song, for, as Bunyip
Bluegum remarked, “‘ Singing at breakfast should certainly be more
commonly indulged in, as it greatly tends to enliven what is on most
occasions a somewhat dull proceeding.”

“One of the great advantages of being a_ professional

puddin’-owner,”’ said Sam Sawnoff, “is that songs at breakfast are
always encouraged. None of the ordinary breakfast rules, such as
scowling while eating, and saying the porridge is as stiff as glue and
the eggs are as tough as leather, are observed. Instead, songs, roars of
laughter, and boisterous jests are the order of the day. For example,
this sort of thing,” added Sam, doing a rapid back-flap and landing with
a thump on Bill’s head. As Bill was unprepared for this act of|
boisterous humour, his face was pushed into the Puddin’ with great
violence, and the gravy was splashed in his eye.
“What d’yer mean, playin’ such bungfoodlin’ tricks on a man at
breakfast ? ” roared Bill.
 ““ What d’yer mean,” shouted the Puddin’, “ playing such
foodbungling tricks on a Puddin’ being breakfasted at ? ”
“Breakfast humour, Bill, merely breakfast humour,” said Sam,
hastily.
 “ Humour’s humour,” shouted Bill, ‘‘ but puddin’ in the whiskers
is no joke.”
‘“* Whiskers in the Puddin’ is worse than puddin’ in the whiskers,”
shouted the Puddin’, standing up in his basin.
““Observe the rules, Bill,” said Sam hurriedly. “ Boisterous
humour at the breakfast table must be greeted with roars of laughter.”
“To Jeredelum with the rules,” shouted Bill. ‘‘ Pushing a man’s
face into his own breakfast is beyond rules or reason, and deserves a
punch in the gizzard.”
Seeing matters arriving at this unpromising situation, Bunyip
Bluegum interposed by saying, “ Rather than allow this happy occasion
to be marred by unseemly recriminations, let us, while admitting that
our admirable friend, Sam, may have unwittingly disturbed the
composure of our admirable friend, Bill, at the expense of our admirable
Puddin’s gravy, let us, I say, by the simple act of extending the hand
of friendship, dispel in an instant these gathering clouds of disruption.
In the words of the poem—
“ Then let the fist of Friendship
Be kept for Friendship’s foes.
Ne’er let that hand in anger land
On 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 the Salt Funk 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 out—

“* Ho, aboard the Salt Funk Sarah,
Rollin’ home across the line,
The Bo’sun collared the Captain’s hat
And threw it in the brine.
Rollin’ home, rollin’ home,
Rollin’ home across the foam,
The Captain sat without a hat
The 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
elmet 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 Burne in
the next field. It was only a cowshed, certainly, but it was blazing
ery 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,” 33 said the Fireman, “‘ I inet present to bravely
assist in putting it out. But,” he added impressively, “‘ if you’ll take
my advice, you’ll shove that Puddin’ in this hollow log and roll a stone
against 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
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 t
a garden tap in no time, and soon were all hard at work, putting ou
fire. he
or ev
 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.
 “TI 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 loudly—
‘* It’s worse than weevils, worse than ‘* It’s worse than beetles in the soup,
warts, It’s worse than crows to eat.
It’s worse than corns to bear. It’s worse than wearin’ small-sized
It’s worse than havin’ several quarts boots
Of treacle in your hair. Upon your large-sized feet.
‘* It’s worse than kerosene to boose,
It’s worse than ginger hair.
It’s worse than anythin’ to lose
A 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 !

“* The grass is green, the day is fair, “Let gloom give way to angry glare,
The dandelions abound. Let weak despair be drowned,
Is this a time for sad despair, Let vengeance in its rage declare
And sitting on the ground? Our Puddin’ must be found.
““ Our Puddin’ in some darksome lair ““ Then let’s resolve to do and dare.
In iron chains is bound, Let teeth with rage be ground.
While puddin’-snatchers on him fare, Let voices to the heavens declare
And eat him by the pound. Our Puddin’ MUST be found.”
“ Bravely spoken,” said Bill, immediately recovering from despair.
3

“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 Hendersgn Hedgehog, and
when they had repeated the question, he said, “‘ You must speak up,
I’ma trifle deaf.”
““ Have you seen a singed possum ? ” shouted Bill.
““ I can’t hear you,” said Henderson.
*“* Have you seen a SINGED 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 8g as well talk to a carrot as try y 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 abilly, and a thundering bad temper into the
bargain, for the moment Bill asked him if he had met a singed possum
he shouted back—
“Me eat a singed possum! I wouldn’t eat a possum if he was
singed, roasted, boiled, or fried.”
** Not ett—met,” shouted Bill. ‘I said, met a singed possum.”
 wate Zoe os WA oes

“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. “TI 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. ‘An’ 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 Bull, 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 a runner, 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 ofa 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, “ Shall puddin’-owners bow the head
Immune from loudest howl, At such affronts as these ?
Let bandicoots lump melons big, No, no! March on, by anger led,
Let peevish parrots prowl. Our Puddin’ to release.
“* Let courage high resolve inflame
Our captive Pud to free;
Our banner wave, our words proclaim
We 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
Dogsons DSTRKING £5q)
WASHING DONE. YX

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upstanding, 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 thing that you should actually use the word ‘singed’ in
connection 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, Ill 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 wife—fine woman, the wife, you’ll meet her
presently—‘ 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 word ‘ feathers’ and
‘burning’ you come along and repeat 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 Bliiegum, 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.

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 “You two,” he said, “must remain in hiding behind the 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.”
““T have called to see you,” said Bunyip, “on a matter of business.
The commodity which I vend is Pootles’ 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’ 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 words— |
“* Who incantations utters
He generally mutters
His gruesome blasts and bans.
J |! But I, you need not doubt it,
_. Prefer aloud to shout it,
Hey, Presto! Pots and Pans.”
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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 and
clapped, 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, Ill 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 remark
that fifteen goes of 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 with—
“Ho! aboard the Salt funk Sarah, Rollin’ home, rollin’ home,
Rollin’ home around the Horn, Rollin’ home across the foam.
The Bo’sun pulls the Captain’s nose The Bo’sun goes with thumps and blows
For treatin’ him with scorn. The whole way rollin’ home.”

*“ But,” said Bill to Bunyip Bluegum, after about fifteen verses of

the Salt Funk Sarah, “the superior skill, ingenuity an’ 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 entitled—

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 passion 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,
|||
lf Before she could be stayed-O
a fy _ Went down in a tornado,
|. % And never more was seen.
 ““ The passengers were sunk all
Beneath the ragin’ wave,
The maiding and her Uncle,
The Noble Hearl of Buncle,
Were saved by Sam the Brave.
** He saved the Noble Buncle
By divin’ off the poop.
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 Noble 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.”

“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 servant’s 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 “* We scorn digestive pills;
To plates of oyster soup. Give us the food that fills;
Let pap engage Who bravely stuff
The gums of age Themselves with Duff
And appetites that droop; May laugh at Doctor’s bills.
We much prefer to chew For medicine, partake
A steak-and-kidney stew. Of kidney, stewed with steak.
** Let yokels coarse appease ** Then plight our faith anew
Their appetites with cheese. Three puddin’-owners true,
Let women dream Who boldly claim
Of cakes and cream, In Friendship’s name
We scorn fal-lals like these; The noble Irish stoo,
Our sterner sex extols Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurroo 1?

The joy of boiled jam rolls.

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©
YOUNG AUSTRALIA SERIES

In the same series

LET'S CALL HIM BLINKY BILL

NED KELLY
AUSTRALIAN BIRDS AND ANIMALS
THE MAGIC OF VERSE |
THE LOADED DOG
BANJO PATERSON’S HORSES
SNUGGLEPOT AND CUDDLEPIE MEET MR LIZARD
BURKE AND WILLS |
BLINKY BILL AND THE RABBIT’S BIRTHDAY PARTY
THE MAGIC PUDDING -First Slice

Read also the complete edition of

THE MAGIC PUDDING ~
The Adventures of Bunyip Bluegum
Written and illustrated by Norman Lindsay

ANGUS AND ROBERTSON.