'Excuse me,' he said, raising his hat, 'but am I right in supposing that this is a steak-and-kidney pudding?'
'At present it is,' said Bill Barnacle.
'It smells delightful,' said Bunyip Bluegum.
'It is delightful,' said Bill, eating a large mouthful.
Bunyip Bluegum was too much of a gentleman to invite himself to lunch, but he said carelessly, 'Am I right in supposing that there are onions in this pudding?'
Before Bill could reply, a thick, angry voice came out of the pudding, saying—
'Onions, bunions, corns and crabs,
Whiskers, wheels and hansom cabs,
Beef and bottles, beer and bones,
Give him a feed and end his groans.'
'Albert, Albert,' said Bill to the Puddin', 'where's your manners?'
'Where's yours?' said the Puddin' rudely, 'guzzling away there, and never so much as offering this stranger a slice.'
'There you are,' said Bill. 'There's nothing this Puddin' enjoys more than offering slices of himself to strangers.'