"Personal remarks to the Judge are not allowed," shouted the Usher, and the Judge said solemnly: "A Judge must be respected, A Judge you mustn't knock, Or else you'll be detected And shoved into the dock. You'll get a nasty shock When gaolers turn the lock. In prison cell you'll give a yell To hear the hangman knock." Here, the Usher took off his coat, as the day was warm, and hung it on the back of his chair. He then rapped on the bench and said: "In the name of the Law I must request Less noise while we're having a well-earned rest. For the Judge and the Usher never must shirk A well-earned rest in the middle of work. It's the duty of both they are well aware To preserve their precious lives with care; It's their duty, when feeling overwrought, To preserve their lives with Puddin' and Port." He sat down and tossed off a bumper of port to prove his words. "Your deal, I think," said the Judge, and they went on sipping and munching and dealing out cards. At this, Bill gave way to despair. "What on earth's to be done?" he asked. "Here's these legal ferrets has got our Puddin' in their clutches, and here's us, spellbound with anguish, watchin' them wolfin' it. Here's a situation as would wring groans from the breast of a boiled onion." "Why it's worse than droppin' soverins down a drain," said Sam. "It's worse than catchin' your whiskers in the mangle," said Bill. By a fortunate chance, at this moment the Possum happened to put his snout within Bill's reach, and Bill hit it a swingeing clout to relieve his feelings. "It's unlawful," shouted the Possum, "to hit a man's snout unexpectedly when he isn't engaged puddin'-stealing." "Observe the rules," said the Wombat solemnly. "Be kind to snouts when not engaged in theft." "If it hadn't been for you two tryin' to steal our Puddin' all this trouble wouldn't have happened," said Bill. "It's the Mayor's fault for bringing us all here," cried the Possum, angrily. "If you was a just man, you'd clout him on the snout, too." "The Mayor's to blame," said the Wombat. "What about the whole lot of us settin' on to him?" At this suggestion the Mayor trembled so violently that his hat fell off. "What dreadful words are these?" he asked, and the Constable said hurriedly, "Never set on to the Mayor while the local Constable is present. Let that be your golden rule." "That's all very well," said Bill, "but if you two hadn't come interferin' at the wrong moment, our Puddin' wouldn't have been arrested, and all this trouble wouldn't have happened. As you're responsible, the question now is, What are you going to do about it?" "My advice is," said the Constable, impressively, "resign yourselves to Fate." "My advice," said the Mayor in a low voice, "is general expressions of esteem and friendship, hand-shaking all round, inquiries after each other's health, chatty remarks about the weather, the price of potatoes, and how well the onions are looking."