" How much longer do you expect me to stay up here, bein' guzzled by these legal land-crabs?" demanded the Puddin'.
"You shall stay there, Albert, till the case is well and truly tried by these here noble Peers of the Realm assembled," said Bill, impressively.
"Too much style about you," said the Puddin', rudely, and he threw the Judge's glass of port into Bill's face, remarking: "Take that, for being a pumpkin-headed old shellback."
There was a great uproar over this very illegal act. The Judge was enraged at losing his port, and the Mayor was filled with horror because Bill wiped his face on the mayoral hat, Sam had to feign amazement at being 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 on
Detective Bluegum to restore order in the Court."
Bunyip ran into the witness-box and, with a ready wit, shouted
I have dreadful news to impart to this honourable Court."
All eyes, of course, turned on Bunyip, who, raising his hand with an impressive gesture, said in thrilling tones: "From information received, it has been discovered that the Puddin' was poisoned at ten-thirty this morning."
This news restored order at once. The Judge turned pale as lard, and the Usher, 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 unpleasant sensation of being, as it were, distended, was merely due to having eaten seven slices. But if—"