"If," said the Usher, in a quavering voice-- "If you take a poisoned Puddin' And that poisoned Puddin' chew, The sensations that you suffer I should rather say were due To the poison in the Puddin' In the act of Poisoning You. And I think the fact suffices Through this dreadfulest of crimes, As you've eaten seven slices You've been poisoned seven times." "It was your idea having it up on the bench," said the Judge, angrily, to the Usher. "Now, "If what you say is true, That idea you'll sadly rue, The poison I have eaten is entirely due to you. It's by taking your advice That I've had my seventh slice, So I'll tell you what I'll do You unmitigated Jew, As a trifling satisfaction, Why, I'll beat you black and blue," and with that he hit the Usher a smart crack on the head with a port bottle. "Don't strike a poisoned man," shouted the Usher; but the Judge went on smacking and cracking him with the bottle, singing-- "The emotion of pity Need never be sought In a Judge who's been poisoned By Puddin' and Port." In desperation, the Usher leapt off the Bench, and landed head first in the dock, where he stuck like a sardine. "Too bad, too bad," shouted the puddin'-thieves. "Crowding in here where there's only room for two." Before they could get rid of the Usher, the Judge bounded over the bench and commenced whacking them with the bottle, singing-- "As I find great satisfaction Hitting anybody who Can offer that distraction, Why, I'll have a go at you." and he went on bounding and whacking away with the bottle, while the puddin'-thieves kept roaring, and the Usher kept screaming. The uproar was deafening. "Just listen to it," said Bill, in despair. "I'd like to know how on earth we are going to finish the case with all this umptydoodle rumpus going on." "Why," said Bunyip, "the simpler course is not to finish the case at all." "Solved, as usual," said Bill and, seizing the Puddin' from the bench, he dashed out of Court, followed by Sam, Ben and Bunyip Bluegum. As they ran, they could hear the Judge still whacking away at everybody, including the Mayor, and the Constable, whose screams were piercing. "Indeed," said Bunyip-- "I rather think they'll rather rue The haste with which they sought to sue Us in the Court of Tooraloo. For, mark how just is Fate! "The whole benighted, blooming crew, The Puddin'-thieves, the Usher too, Are being beaten black and blue With bottles on the pate. "I rather think they will eschew, In future, Puddin'-owners who Pass through the simple rural view About the town of Tooraloo." "And now," said Bill, when they had run a mile or two beyond the town, "and now for some brilliant plan, swiftly conceived, which will put a stop to this Puddin'-snatchin' business for ever. For the point is," continued Bill, lowering his voice, "here we are pretty close up to the end of the book, and something will have to be done in a Tremendous Hurry, or else we'll be cut off short by the cover."