Out sprang Bill and Sam and set about the Puddin'-thieves like a pair of windmills, giving them such a clip clap clouting and a flip flap flouting, that what with being punched and pounded, and clipped and clapped, they had only enough breath left to give two shrieks of despair while scrambling back into Watkin Wombat's Summer Residence, and banging the door behind them. The three friends had Puddin' secured in no time, and shook hands all round, congratulating Bunyip Bluegum on the success of his plan. "Your noble actin'," said Bill, "has saved our Puddin's life." "Them Puddin'-thieves," said Sam, "was children in your hands." "We hear you," sang out the Possum, and the Wombat added, "Oh, what deceit! " "Enough of you two," shouted Bill. "If we catch you sneakin' after our Puddin' again, you'll get such a beltin' that you'll wish you was vegetarians. And now," said he, "for a glorious reunion round the camp fire." And a glorious reunion they had, tucking into hot steak-and-kidney puddin' and boiled jam roll, which, after the exertions of the day, went down, as Bill said, "Grand." "If them Puddin'-thieves ain't sufferin' the agonies of despair at this very moment, I'll eat my hat along with the Puddin'," said Bill, exultantly. "Indeed," said Bunyip Bluegum, "the consciousness that our enemies are deservedly the victims of acute mental and physical anguish, imparts, it must be admitted, an additional flavour to the admirable Puddin'." "Well spoken," said Bill, admiringly. "Which I will say, that for turning off a few well-chosen words no parson in the land is the equal of yourself." "Your health!" said Bunyip Bluegum. The singing that evening was particularly loud and prolonged, owing to the satisfaction they all felt at the recovery of their beloved Puddin'. The Puddin', who had got the sulks over Sam's remark that fifteen goes of steak and kidney were enough for any self-respecting man, protested against the singing, which, he said, disturbed his gravy. "`More eating and less noise,' is my motto," he said, and he called Bill a leather-headed old barrel organ for reproving him. "Albert is a spoilt child, I fear," said Bill, shoving him into the bag to keep him quiet, and without more ado, led off with-- "Ho! aboard the Salt Junk Sarah, Rollin' home around the Horn, The Bo'sun pulls the Captain's nose For treatin' him with scorn. "Rollin' home, rollin' home, Rollin' home across the foam. The Bo'sun goes with thumps and blows The whole way rollin' home. "But," said Bill to Bunyip Bluegum, after about fifteen verses of the 'Salt Junk Sarah', "the superior skill, ingenuity an' 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-- THE PENGUIN'S BRIDE