"Never use such words to people wearing bell-toppers," said one of the bell-topperers, and the other added, "With that dear Puddin' gazing up to heaven, how can you use such words?"
"All very fine, no doubt," sneered Bill, "but if you ain't scoundrels of the deepest dye, remove them hats and prove you ain't afraid to look us in the eye."
"No, no," said the first bell-topperer. "No removing hats at present on account of sunstroke, and colds in the head, and doctor's orders. My doctor said to me only this morning, 'Never remove your hat.' Those were his words. 'Let it be your rule through life,' he said, 'to keep the head warm, whatever happens.'"
"No singing `God save the King,' neither," said the other belltopperer. "Let your conduct be noble, and never sing the National Anthem to people wearing bell-toppers."
"In fact," said the first bell-topperer, "All we say is, Hand over the Puddin' with a few well-chosen words, and all ill-feeling will be dropped."
Bill was so enraged at this suggestion that he dashed his hat on the ground and kicked it to relieve his feelings. "Law or no law," he shouted, "I call on all hands to knock them bell-toppers off."
All hands made a rush for the bell-topperers, who shouted, "An Englishman's hat is his castle," and "Top-hats are sacred things;" but they were overpowered by numbers, and their hats were snatched off. "THE PUDDIN'-THIEVES!" shouted the company.
Those bell-toppers had disguised that snooting, snouting scoundrel, the Possum, and his snoozing, boozing friend the Wombat! There was an immense uproar over this discovery, Bill and Sam flapping and snout-bending away at the puddin'-thieves, the puddin'thieves roaring for mercy. Ben denounced them as bag snatchers, and Bunyip Bluegum expressed his indignation in a fine burst of oratory, beginning:
"Base, indeed, must be those scoundrels, who, lost to all sense of decency and honour, boldly assume the outward semblance of worthy citizens, and, by the pretentious nature of their appearance, not only seek the better to impose upon the noble incredulity of Puddin'-owners, but, with dastardly cunning, strike a blow at Society's most sacred emblem-the pot-hat."
The uproar brought the Mayor of Tooraloo hastening to the scene, followed by the local constable. The Mayor was a little, fat, breathless, beetle-shaped man, who hastened with difficulty owing to his robe of office being trodden on by the Constable, who ran close behind him in order to finish eating a banana in secret. He had some more bananas in a paper bag, and his face was one of those feeble faces that make one think of eggs and carrots and feathers, if you take my meaning.