'I've got a stick to walk with. I've got a mind to think with. I've got a voice to talk with. I've got an eye to wink with. I've lots of teeth to eat with, A brand new hat to bow with, A pair of fists to beat with, A rage to have a row with. No joy it brings To have indeed A lot of things One does not need. Observe my doleful plight. For here am I without a crumb To satisfy a raging tum-- O what an oversight!' As he was indulging in these melancholy reflexions he came round a bend in the road, and discovered two people in the very act of having lunch. These people were none other than Bill Barnacle, the sailor, and his friend, Sam Sawnoff, the penguin bold. Bill was a small man with a large hat, a beard half as large as his hat, and feet half as large as his beard. Sam Sawnoff's feet were sitting down and his body was standing up, because his feet were so short and his body so long that he had to do both together. They had a pudding in a basin, and the smell that arose from it was so delightful that Bunyip Bluegum was quite unable to pass on. [Illustration] '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.' 'How very polite of him,' said Bunyip, but the Puddin' replied loudly-- 'Politeness be sugared, politeness be hanged, Politeness be jumbled and tumbled and banged. It's simply a matter of putting on pace, Politeness has nothing to do with the case.' [Illustration] 'Always anxious to be eaten,' said Bill, 'that's this Puddin's mania. Well, to oblige him, I ask you to join us at lunch.' 'Delighted, I'm sure,' said Bunyip, seating himself. 'There's nothing I enjoy more than a good go in at steak-and-kidney pudding in the open air.' 'Well said,' remarked Sam Sawnoff, patting him on the back. 'Hearty eaters are always welcome.' 'You'll enjoy this Puddin',' said Bill, handing him a large slice. 'This is a very rare Puddin'.' 'It's a cut-an'-come-again Puddin',' said Sam. 'It's a Christmas, steak, and apple-dumpling Puddin',' said Bill.