The Magic Pudding: Being the Adventures of Bunyip Bluegum and His Friends Bill Barnacle & Sam Sawnoff — John Shaqi
The Magic Pudding: Being the Adventures of Bunyip Bluegum and His Friends Bill Barnacle & Sam SawnoffLindsay, Norman
General
The Magic Pudding: Being the Adventures of Bunyip Bluegum and His Friends Bill Barnacle & Sam Sawnoff
Lindsay, Norman
Animals -- Juvenile fiction; Australia -- Juvenile fiction; Fantasy literature; Humorous stories; Puddings -- Juvenile fiction
"What's to be done about this astoundin' predicament?" said Bill.
"If there is a present, of course we may as well have it.
If there ain't a present, of course we shall simply have to punch
their snouts as usual."
"One must confess," said Bunyip Bluegum, "to the prompting of a
certain curiosity as to the nature of this present;" and Sam
added, "Anyway, there's no harm in having a look at it."
"No harm whatever," said the Possum, and he held the bag open
invitingly. The Puddin'-owners hesitated a moment, but the
temptation was too strong, and they all looked in together. It
was a fatal act. The Possum whipped the bag over their heads, the
Wombat whipped a rope round the bag, and there they were,
helpless.
The worst of it was that the Puddin', being too short to look in,
was left outside, and the puddin'-thieves grabbed him at once and
ran off like winking. To add to the Puddin'-owners' discomfiture
there was a considerable amount of bran in the bag; and, as Bill
said afterwards, if there's anything worse than losing a valuable
Puddin', it's bran in the whiskers. They bounded and plunged
about, but soon had to stop that on account of treading on each
others toes-especially Sam's, who endured agonies, having no boots
on.
"What a frightful calamity," groaned Bill, giving way to despair.
"It's worse than being chased by natives on the Limpopo River,"
said Sam.
"It's worse than fighting Arabs single-handed," croaked Bill.
"It's almost as bad as being pecked on the head by eagles," said
Sam, and in despair they sang in muffled tones
"O what a fearful fate it is,
O what a frightful fag,
To have to walk about like this
All tied up in a bag.
"Our noble confidence has sent
Us on this fearful jag;
In noble confidence we bent
To look inside this bag.
"Deprived of air, in dark despair
Upon our way we drag;
Condemned for evermore to wear
This frightful, fearsome bag."
Bunyip Bluegum reproved this faint-heartedness, saying, "As our
misfortunes are due to exhibiting too great a trust in scoundrels,
so let us bear them with the greater fortitude. As in innocence we
fell, so let our conduct in this hour of dire extremity be guided
by the courageous endurance of men whose consciences are free from
guilt."
These fine words greatly stimulated the others, and they endured
with fortitude walking on Sam's feet for an hour-and-a-half, when
the sound of footsteps apprised them that a traveller was
approaching.
This traveller was a grave, elderly dog named Benjimen Brandysnap,
who was going to market with eggs. Seeing three people walking in
a bag he naturally supposed they were practising for the sports,
but on hearing their appeals for help he very kindly undid the
rope.
"Preserver," exclaimed Bill, grasping him by the hand. "Noble
being," said Sam.
"Guardian angel of oppressed Puddin'-owners," said Bunyip Bluegum.
Benjimen was quite overcome by these expressions of esteem, and
handed round eggs, which were eaten on the spot.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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