'But,' said Bill to Bunyip Bluegum, after about fifteen verses of the _Salt Junk Sarah_, 'the superior skill, ingenuity and darin' with which you bested them puddin'-snatchers reminds me of a similar incident in Sam's youth, which I will now sing you. The incident, though similar as regards courage an' darin', is totally different in regard to everythin' else, and is entitled-- [Illustration] THE PENGUIN'S BRIDE ''Twas on the _Saucy Soup Tureen_, That Sam was foremast hand, When on the quarter-deck was seen A maiding fit to be a Queen With her old Uncle stand. 'And Sam at once was sunk all In passion deep and grand, But this here aged Uncle He was the Hearl of Buncle And Sam a foremast hand. 'And Sam he chewed salt junk all Day with grief forlorn, Because the Hearl of Buncle, The lovely maiding's Uncle, Regarded him with scorn. 'When sailin' by Barbado, The _Saucy Soup Tureen_, Before she could be stayed-O Went down in a tornado, And never more was seen. [Illustration] 'The passengers were sunk all Beneath the ragin' wave, The maiding and her Uncle, The Noble Hearl of Buncle, Were saved by Sam the Brave. [Illustration] 'He saved the Noble Buncle By divin' off the poop. The maiding in a funk all He, saved along with Uncle Upon a chicken coop. 'And this here niece of Buncle, When they got safe to land, For havin' saved her Uncle, The Noble Hearl of Buncle, She offered Sam her hand. 'And that old Uncle Buncle, For joy of his release, On Burgundy got drunk all Day in Castle Buncle, Which hastened his decease. 'The lovely maiding Buncle Inherited the land; And, now her aged Uncle Has gone, the Hearl of Buncle Is Sam, the foremast hand.' [Illustration] 'Of course,' said Sam modestly, 'the song goes too far in sayin' as how I married the Hearl's niece, because, for one thing, I ain't a marryin' man, and for another thing, what she really sez to me when we got to land was, "You're a noble feller, an' here's five shillin's for you, and any time you happen to be round our way, just give a ring at the servants' bell, and there'll always be a feed waitin' for you in the kitchen." However, you've got to have songs to fill in the time with, and when a feller's got a rotten word like Buncle to find rhymes for, there's no sayin' how a song'll end.' 'The exigencies of rhyme,' said Bunyip Bluegum, 'may stand excused from a too strict insistence on verisimilitude, so that the general gaiety is thereby promoted. And now,' he added, 'before retiring to rest, let us all join in song,' and grasping each other's hands they loudly sang-- THE PUDDIN'-OWNERS' EVENSONG 'Let feeble feeders stoop To plates of oyster soup. Let pap engage The gums of age And appetites that droop; We much prefer to chew A Steak-and-kidney stew.