“And Sam at once was sunk all
  In passion deep and grand,
But this here aged Uncle
He was the Hearl of Buncle
  And Sam a foremast hand.

“When sailin’ by Barbado,
  The Saucy Soup Tureen,
Before she could be stayed-O
Went down in a tornado,
  And never more was seen.

“The passengers were sunk all
  Beneath the ragin’ wave,
The maiding and her Uncle,
The Noble Hearl of Buncle,
Were saved by Sam the Brave.

“He saved the Noble Buncle
  By divin’ off the poop. 
The maiding in a funk all
He saved along with Uncle
  Upon a chicken coop.

“And this here niece of Buncle,
  When they got safe to land,
For havin’ saved her Uncle,
The Noble Hearl of Buncle,
  She offered Sam her hand.

“And that old Uncle Buncle,
  For joy of his release,
On burgundy got drunk all
Day in Castle Buncle,
  Which hastened his decease.

“The lovely maiding Buncle
  Inherited the land;
And, now her aged Uncle
Has gone, the Hearl of Buncle
  Is Sam, the foremast hand.”

“Of course,” said Sam modestly, “the song goes too far in sayin’ as how I married the Hearl’s niece, because, for one thing, I ain’t a marryin’ man, and for another thing, what she really sez to me when we got to land was, “You’re a noble feller, an’ here’s five shillin’s for you, and any time you happen to be round our way, just give a ring at the servant’s bell, and there’ll always be a feed waitin’ for you in the kitchen.”  However, you’ve got to have songs to fill in the time with, and when a feller’s got a rotten word like Buncle to find rhymes for, there’s no sayin’ how a song’ll end.”

“The exigencies of rhyme,” said Bunyip Bluegum, “may stand excused from a too strict insistence on verisimilitude, so that the general gaiety is thereby promoted.  And now,” he added, “before retiring to rest, let us all join in song,” and grasping each other’s hands they loudly sang—­

THE PUDDIN’-OWNERS’ EVENSONG

“Let feeble feeders stoop
To plates of oyster soup. 
  Let pap engage
  The gums of age
And appetites that droop;
  We much prefer to chew
  A steak-and-kidney stew.

“We scorn digestive pills;
Give us the food that fills;
  Who bravely stuff
  Themselves with Duff,
May laugh at Doctors’ bills. 
  For medicine, partake
  Of kidney, stewed with steak.

“Let yokels coarse appease
Their appetites with cheese. 
  Let women dream
  Of cakes and cream,
We scorn fal-lals like these;
  Our sterner sex extols
  The joy of boiled jam rolls.

“Then plight our faith anew
Three puddin’-owners true,
  Who boldly claim
  In Friendship’s name
The noble Irish stoo,
Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurroo!”

SLICE THREE