Animals -- Juvenile fiction; Australia -- Juvenile fiction; Fantasy literature; Humorous stories; Puddings -- Juvenile fiction
'Apologies are totally inadequate,' shouted Uncle Wattleberry. 'Nothing
short of felling you to the earth with an umbrella could possibly atone
for the outrage. You are a danger to the whisker-growing public. You
have knocked my hat off, pulled my whiskers, and tried to remove my
nose.'
'Pullin' your nose,' said Bill, solemnly, 'is a mistake any man might
make, for I put it to all present, as man to man, if that nose don't
look as if it's only gummed on.'
All present were forced to admit that it was a mistake that any man
might make. 'Any man,' as Sam remarked, 'would think he was doing you a
kindness by trying to pull it off.'
'Allow me to point out also, my dear Uncle,' said Bunyip Bluegum, 'that
your whiskers were responsible for this seeming outrage. Let your anger,
then, be assuaged by the consciousness that you are the victim, not of
malice, but of the misfortune of wearing whiskers.'
'How now,' exclaimed Uncle Wattleberry. 'My nephew Bunyip among these
sacrilegious whisker-pluckers and nose-pullers. My nephew, not only
aiding and abetting these ruffians, but seeking to palliate their
crimes! This is too much. My feelings are such that nothing but bounding
and plunging can relieve them.'
And thereupon did Uncle Wattleberry proceed to bound and plunge with the
greatest activity, shouting all the while--
'You need not think I bound and plunge
Like this in festive mood.
I bound that bounding may expunge
The thought of insult rude.
'An Uncle's rage must seek relief,
His anger must be drowned;
It is to soothe an Uncle's grief
That thus I plunge and bound.
'I bound and plunge, I seethe with rage,
My mighty anger seeks
So much relief that I engage
To plunge and bound for weeks.'
Seeing that there was no possibility of inducing Uncle Wattleberry to
look at the affair in a reasonable light, they walked off and left him
to continue his bounding and plunging for the amusement of the people of
Bungledoo, who brought their chairs out on to the footpath in order to
enjoy the sight at their ease. Bill's intention to regard everybody he
met with suspicion was somewhat damped by this mistake, and he said
there ought to be a law to prevent a man going about looking as if he
was a disguised puddin'-thief.
The most annoying part of it all was that when the puddin'-thieves did
make their appearance they weren't disguised at all. They were dressed
as common ordinary puddin'-thieves, save that the Possum carried a bran
bag in his hand and the Wombat waved a white flag.
[Illustration]
'Well, if this isn't too bad,' shouted Bill, enraged. 'What d'you mean,
comin' along in this unexpected way without bein' disguised?'
'No, no,' sang out the Possum. 'No disguises to-day.'
'No fighting, either,' said the Wombat.
'No disguises, no fighting, and no puddin'-stealing,' said the Possum.
'Nothing but the fairest and most honourable dealings.'
[Illustration]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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