and he went on bounding and whacking away with the bottle, while the puddin'-thieves kept roaring, and the Usher kept screaming. The uproar was deafening.
"Just listen to it," said Bill, in despair. "I'd like to know how on earth we are going to finish the case with all this umptydoodle rumpus going on."
"Why," said Bunyip, "the simpler course is not to finish the case at all."
"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 a stop to this Puddin'-snatchin' business for ever. For the point is," continued Bill, lowering his voice, "here we are pretty close up to the end of the book, and something will have to be done in a Tremendous Hurry, or else we'll be cut off short by the cover."
"The solution is perfectly simple," said Bunyip. "We have merely to stop wandering along the road, and the story will stop wandering through the book. This, too, will baffle the puddin' thieves, for while we wander along the road, our Puddin' is exposed to the covetous glances of every passing puddin'-snatcher. Let us, then, remove to some safe, secluded spot and settle down to a life of gaiety, dance and song, where no puddin'-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—