The Magic Pudding Part 3

'And I worked aloft and I worked below, I worked wherever I had to go, And the winds blew hard and the winds blew cold, And I sez to meself as the s.h.i.+p she rolled,

'"O Caribbee! O Barbaree!

O sh.o.r.es of South Amerikee!

O, never go there: if the truth be told, You'll get more kicks than Spanish gold."'

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'And that's the truth, mate,' said Bill to Bunyip Bluegum. 'There ain't no pirates nowadays at sea, except western ocean First Mates, and many's the bootin' I've had for not takin' in the slack of the topsail halyards fast enough to suit their fancy. It's a hard life, the sea, and Sam here'll bear me out when I say that bein' hit on the head with a belayin' pin while tryin' to pick up the weather earing is an experience that no man wants twice. But toon up, and a song all round.'

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'I shall sing you the "Penguin Bold",' said Sam, and, striking a graceful att.i.tude, he sang this song--

'To see the penguin out at sea, And watch how he behaves, Would prove that penguins cannot be And never shall be slaves.

You haven't got a notion How penguins brave the ocean And laugh with scorn at waves.

'To see the penguin at his ease Performing fearful larks With stingarees of all degrees, As well as whales and sharks; The sight would quickly let you know The great contempt that penguins show For stingarees and sharks.

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'O see the penguin as he goes A-turning Catherine wheels, Without repose upon the nose Of walruses and seals.

But bless your heart, a penguin feels Supreme contempt for foolish seals, While he never fails, where'er he goes, To turn back-flaps on a walrus nose.'

'It's all very fine,' said the Puddin' gloomily, 'singing about the joys of being penguins and pirates, but how'd you like to be a Puddin' and be eaten all day long?'

And in a very gruff voice he sang as follows:--

'O, who would be a puddin', A puddin' in a pot, A puddin' which is stood on A fire which is hot?

O sad indeed the lot Of puddin's in a pot.

'I wouldn't be a puddin'

If I could be a bird, If I could be a wooden Doll, I would'n say a word.

Yes, I have often heard It's grand to be a bird.

'But as I am a puddin', A puddin' in a pot, I hope you get the stomach ache For eatin' me a lot.

I hope you get it hot, You puddin'-eatin' lot!'

'Very well sung, Albert,' said Bill encouragingly, 'though you're a trifle husky in your undertones, which is no doubt due to the gravy in your innards. However, as a reward for bein' a bright little feller we shall have a slice of you all round before turnin' in for the night.'

So they whistled up the plum-duff side of the Puddin', and had supper.

When that was done, Bill stood up and made a speech to Bunyip Bluegum.

'I am now about to put before you an important proposal,' said Bill.

'Here you are, a young intelligent feller, goin' about seein' the world by yourself. Here is Sam an' me, two as fine fellers as ever walked, goin' about the world with a Puddin'. My proposal to you is--Join us, and become a member of the n.o.ble Society of Puddin'-owners. The duties of the Society,' went on Bill, 'are light. The members are required to wander along the roads, indulgin' in conversation, song and story, eatin' at regular intervals at the Puddin'. And now, what's your answer?'

'My answer,' said Bunyip Bluegum, 'is, Done with you.' And, shaking hands warmly all round, they loudly sang--

THE PUDDIN'-OWNERS' ANTHEM

'The solemn word is plighted, The solemn tale is told, We swear to stand united, Three puddin'-owners bold.

'When we with rage a.s.semble, Let puddin'-s.n.a.t.c.hers groan; Let puddin'-burglars tremble, They'll ne'er our puddin' own.

'Hurrah for puddin'-owning, Hurrah for Friends.h.i.+p's hand, The puddin'-thieves are groaning To see our n.o.ble band.

'Hurrah, we'll stick together, And always bear in mind To eat our puddin' gallantly, Whenever we're inclined.'

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Having given three rousing cheers, they shook hands once more and turned in for the night. After such a busy day, walking, talking, fighting, singing, and eating puddin', they were all asleep in a pig's whisper.

Second Slice

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 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 sitting round a camp fire in the mornin'. No bed and blankets and breakfast tables for Bill Barnacle. For as I says in my "Breakfast Ballad"--

'If there's anythin' better than lyin' on leaves, It's risin' from leaves at dawnin', If there's anythin' better than sleepin' at eve, It's wakin' up in the mawnin'.

'If there's anythin' better than camp firelight, It's bright suns.h.i.+ne on wakin'.

If there's anythin' better than puddin' at night, It's puddin' when day is breakin'.

'If there's anythin' better than singin' away While the stars are gaily s.h.i.+nin', Why, it's singin' a song at dawn of day, On puddin' for breakfast dinin'.'

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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.

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'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.