“Hats off in honour to our King,” shouted Bill, and off came all the hats.  The puddin’-thieves, of course, were helpless.  The Wombat had to take his hat off, or prove himself disloyal, and there was Puddin’ sitting on his head.

“Now who’s a liar?” shouted Bill, hitting the Possum a swingeing blow on the snout, while Sam gave the Wombat one of his famous over-arm flip flaps that knocked all the wind out of him.  The Wombat tried to escape punishment by shouting, “Never strike a man with a Puddin’ on his head;” but, now that their guilt was proved, Bill and Sam were utterly remorseless, and gave the puddin’-thieves such a trouncing that their shrieks pierced the firmament.  When this had been done, all hands gave them an extra thumping in the interests of common morality.  Eggs were rubbed in their hair by Benjimen, and Bill and Sam attended to the beating and snout-bending, while Bunyip did the reciting.  Standing on a stump, he declaimed—­

“The blows you feel we do not deal
  In common, vulgar thumping;
To higher motives we appeal—­
It is to teach you not to steal,
  Your heads we now are bumping. 
  You need not go on pumping
Appeals for kinder dealing,
  We like to watch you jumping,
We like to hear you squealing. 
  We rather think this thumping
Will take a bit of healing. 
  We hope these blows upon the nose,
  These bended snouts, these tramped-on toes,
These pains that you are feeling
The truth will be revealing
How wrong is puddin’-stealing.”

Then, with great solemnity, he recited the following fine moral lesson:—­

“A puddin’-thief, as I’ve heard tell,
  Quite lost to noble feeling,
Spent all his days, and nights as well,
  In constant puddin’-stealing.

“He stole them here, he stole them there,
  He knew no moderation;
He stole the coarse, he stole the rare,
  He stole without cessation.

“He stole the steak-and-kidney stew
  That housewives in a rage hid;
He stole the infants’ Puddin’ too,
  The Puddin’ of the aged.

“He lived that Puddin’s he might lure,
  Into his clutches stealthy;
He stole the Puddin’ of the poor,
  The Puddin’ of the wealthy.

“This evil wight went forth one night
  Intent on puddin’-stealing,
When he beheld a hidden light
  A secret room revealing.

“Within he saw a fearful man,
  With eyes like coals a-glowing,
Whose frightful whiskers over-ran
  His face, like weeds a-blowing ;

“And there this fearful, frightful man,
  A sight to set you quaking,
With pot and pan and curse and ban,
  Began a puddin’ making.

“’Twas made of buns and boiling oil,
  A carrot and some nails-O! 
A lobster’s claws, the knobs off doors,
  An onion and some snails-O!

“A pound of fat, an old man rat,
  A pint of kerosene-O! 
A box of tacks, some cobbler’s wax,
  Some gum and glycerine-0!