'Don't be impatient,' said the Parrot. 'Have you got a bit o' tea an' sugar on yer?'
'Here's yer tea an' sugar,' said Bill, handing a little of each out of the bag. 'And that's the last thing you get. Now will you answer the question?'
'Wot question?' asked the Parrot.
'Have yer seen a singed possum?' roared Bill.
'No, I haven't,' said the Parrot, and he actually had the insolence to laugh in Bill's face.
'Of all the swivel-eyed, up-jumped, cross-grained, sons of a cock-eyed tinker,' exclaimed Bill, boiling with rage. 'If punching parrots on the beak wasn't too painful for pleasure, I'd land you a sockdolager on the muzzle that 'ud lay you out till Christmas. Come on, mates,' he added, 'it's no use wastin' time over this low-down, hook-nosed tobacco-grabber.' And leaving the evil-minded Parrot to pursue his evil-minded way, they hurried off in search of information.
The next person they spied was a Bandicoot carrying a watermelon. At a first glance you would have thought it was merely a watermelon walking by itself, but a second glance would have shown you that the walking was being done by a small pair of legs attached to the watermelon, and a third glance would have disclosed that the legs were attached to a Bandicoot.
They shouted, 'Hi, you with the melon!' to attract his attention, and set off running after him, and the Bandicoot, being naturally of a terrified disposition, ran for all he was worth. He wasn't worth much as a runner, owing to the weight of the watermelon, and they caught him up half-way across the field.
Conceiving that his hour had come, the Bandicoot gave a shrill squeak of terror and fell on his knees.