"Go mad with grief or mad with rage,
It doesn't matter whether;
Our Puddin's left this earthly stage,
So in despair we must engage
To both go mad together."
"I have a suggestion to make," said Bunyip Bluegum, "which will at once restore your wonted good-humour. Observe me."
He looked about till he found a piece of board, and wrote this notice on it with his fountain pen—
A GRAND PROCESSION OF THE AMALGAMATED SOCIETY OF PUDDINGS WILL PASS HERE AT 2.30 TO-DAY.
This he hung on a tree. "Now," said he, "all that remains to be done is to hide behind this bush. The news of the procession will spread like wildfire through the district, and the puddin'-thieves, unable to resist such a spectacle, will come hurrying to view the procession. The rest will be simply a matter of springing out on them like lions."
"Superbly reasoned," said Bill, grasping Bunyip by the hand. They all hid behind the bush, and a Crow, who happened to be passing, read the sign and flew off at once to spread the news through the district.
In fifteen minutes, by Bill's watch, the puddin'-thieves came running down the road, and took up a position on a stump to watch the procession. They had evidently been disturbed in the very act of eating Puddin', for the Possum was still masticating a mouthful; and the Wombat had stuck the Puddin' in his hat, and put his hat on his head, which clearly roved him to be a very ill-bred fellow, for in good society wearing puddin's on the head is hardly ever done.
Bill and Sam, who were like bloodhounds straining in the leash, sprang out and confronted the scoundrels, while Bunyip and Ben got behind in order to cut off their retreat.
"We've got you at last," said Bill, sparring up at the Possum with the fiercest activity. "Out with our Puddin', or prepare for a punch on the snout."
The Possum turned pale and the Wombat hastily got behind him.