The Magic Pudding

by Norman Lindsay

the iceberg.'

  'Albert, Albert,' said Bill, sternly. 'Where's your manners:interruptin' Sir Samuel in that rude way, and him a-performin' like anactor for your deliverance!'

  'How much longer do you expect me to stay up here, bein' guzzled bythese legal land-crabs?' demanded the Puddin'.

  'You shall stay there, Albert, till the case is well and truly tried bythese here noble Peers of the Realm assembled,' said Bill, impressively.

  'Too much style about you,' said the Puddin', rudely, and he threw theJudge's glass of port into Bill's face, remarking: 'Take that, for beinga pumpkin-headed old shellback.'

  There was a great uproar over this very illegal act. The Judge wasenraged at losing his port, and the Mayor was filled with horror becauseBill wiped his face on the mayoral hat. Sam had to feign amazement atbeing called a liar, and the puddin'-thieves kept shouting: 'Time, time;we can't stand here all day.'

  In desperation, Bill bawled at the top of his voice: 'I call onDetective Bluegum to restore order in the Court.'

  Bunyip ran into the witness-box and, with a ready wit, shouted: 'I havedreadful news to impart to this honourable Court.'

  All eyes, of course, turned on Bunyip, who, raising his hand with animpressive gesture, said in thrilling tones: 'From informationreceived, it has been discovered that the Puddin' was poisoned atten-thirty this morning.'

  This news restored order at once. The Judge turned pale as lard, and theUsher, having a darker complexion, turned as pale as soap. The Puddin'couldn't turn pale, so he let out a howl of terror.

  'Poisoned,' said the Usher, feebly. 'How, how?'

  'Poisoned,' said the Judge, feeling his stomach with trembling hands.'Until this moment I was under the delusion that a somewhat unpleasantsensation of being, as it were, distended, was merely due to havingeaten seven slices. But if--'

  'If,' said the Usher, in a quavering voice--

  'If you take a poisoned Puddin' And that poisoned Puddin' chew The sensations that you suffer I should rather say were due To the poison in the Puddin' In the act of Poisoning You. And I think the fact suffices Through this dreadfulest of crimes, As you've eaten seven slices You've been poisoned seven times.'

  'It was your idea having it up on the bench,' said the Judge, angrily,to the Usher. 'Now,

  'If what you say is true, That idea you'll sadly rue, The poison I have eaten is entirely due to you. It's by taking your advice That I've had my seventh slice, So I'll tell you what I'll do Why, I'll beat you black and blue,'

  and with that he hit the Usher a smart crack on the head with a portbottle.

  'Don't strike a poisoned man,' shouted the Usher; but the Judge went onsmacking and cracking him with the bottle, singing--

  'The emotion of pity Need never be sought In a Judge who's been poisoned By Puddin' and Port.'

  In desperation, the Usher leapt off the bench, and landed head first inthe dock, where he stuck like a sardine.

  'Too bad, too bad,' shouted the puddin'-thieves. 'Crowding in here wherethere's only room for two.' Before they could get rid of the Usher, theJudge bounded over the bench and commenced whacking them with thebottle, singing--

  'As I find great satisfaction Hitting anybody who Can offer that distraction, Why, I'll have a go at you,'and he went on bounding and whacking away with the bottle, while thepuddin'-thieves kept roaring, and the Usher kept screaming. The uproarwas deafening.

  'Just listen to it,' said Bill, in despair. 'I'd like to know how onearth we are going to finish the case with all this umptydoodle rumpusgoing on.'

  'Why,' said Bunyip, 'the simpler course is not to finish the case atall.'

  'Solved, as usual,' said Bill and, seizing the Puddin' from the bench,he dashed out of Court, followed by Sam, Ben, and Bunyip Bluegum.

  As they ran they could hear the Judge still whacking away at everybody,including the Mayor, and the Constable, whose screams were piercing.'Indeed,' said Bunyip--

  'I rather think they'll rather rue The haste with which they sought to sue Us, in the Court of Tooraloo. For, mark how just is Fate!

  'The whole benighted, blooming crew, The Puddin'-thieves, the Usher too, Are being beaten black and blue With bottles on the pate.

  'I rather think they will eschew, In future, Puddin'-owners who Pass through the simple rural view About the town of Tooraloo.'

  'And now,' said Bill, when they had run a mile or two beyond the town,'and now for some brilliant plan, swiftly conceived, which will put astop to this Puddin'-snatchin' business for ever. For the point is,'continued Bill, lowering his voice, 'here we are pretty close up to theend of the book, and something will have to be done in a TremendousHurry, or else we'll be cut off short by the cover.'

  'The solution is perfectly simple,' said Bunyip. 'We have merely to stopwandering along the road, and the story will stop wandering through thebook. This, too, will baffle the puddin'-thieves, for while we wanderalong the road, our Puddin' is exposed to the covetous glances of everypassing puddin'-snatcher. Let us, then, remove to some safe, secludedspot and settle down to a life of gaiety, dance, and song, where nopuddin'-thief will dare to show a sacrilegious head. Let us, in fact,build a house in a tree. For, mark the advantages of such a habitation--

  'Up on high No neighbours pry In at the window, On the sly.

  'Up in a tree You're always free From bores and bailiffs, You'll agree.

  'Up on high Bricks you shy At bores and bailiffs Passing by.

  'Up in the leaves One never grieves Over the pranks Of puddin'-thieves.

  'If you would be Gay and free, Take my tip and Live in a tree.'

  'We will, we will,' shouted the Puddin'-owners; but the Puddin' saidsourly: 'This is all very well, all this high falutin'. But what aboutthe dreadful news of being poisoned at ten-thirty this morning?'

  'You ain't poisoned, Albert,' said Bill. 'That was only a mere _ruse deguerre_, as they say in the noosepapers.'

  'A what?' demanded the Puddin', suspiciously.

  'Let words be sufficient, without explanation,' said Bill, severely.'And as we haven't time to waste talkin' philosophy to a Puddin', why,into the bag he goes, or we'll never get the story finished.'

  So Puddin' was bundled into the bag, and Bill said, hurriedly:'Brilliant as our friend Bunyip had proved himself with his ready wit,it remains for old Bill to suggest the brightest idea of all. Here isour friend Ben, a market gardener of the finest description. Very well.Why not build our house in his market garden. The advantages areobvious. Vegetables free of charge the whole year round, and fruit inseason. Eggs to be had for the askin', and a fine, simple, honest fellerlike Ben, to chat to of an evening. What could be more delightful?'

  Ben looked very grave at this proposal and began: 'I very much doubtwhether there will be enough bed clothes for four people, let alone thecarrots are very nervous of strangers--' when Bill cut him short with ahearty clap on the back.

  'Say no more,' said Bill, handsomely. 'Rough, good-humoured fellers likeus don't need apologies, or any social fal-lals at all. We'll take youas we find you. Without more ado, we shall build a house in your marketgarden.'

  And, without more ado, they did.

  The picture overleaf saves the trouble of explaining how they built it,and what a splendid house it is. In order that the Puddin' might haveplenty of exercise, they made him a little Puddin' paddock, whence hecan shout rude remarks to the people passing by; a habit, I grieve tostate, he is very prone to.

  Of course, at night they pull up the ladder in case a straypuddin'-thief happens to be prowling around. If a friend calls to have aquiet chat, or to join in a sing-song round the fire, they let theladder down for him.

  And a very pleasant life they lead, sitting of a summer evening on thebalcony while Ben does his little market-garden jobs below, and thePuddin' throws bits of bark at the cabbages, and pulls faces at thelittle pickle onions, in order to make them squeak with terror.

 
On winter nights there is always Puddin' and hot coffee for supper, andmany's the good go in I've had up there, a-sitting round the fire.

  I didn't mean to let on that I knew their address, on account of so manypeople wanting to have a go at the Puddin'. However, it's out now.

  When the wind blows and the rain comes down, it's jolly sitting up