“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.”

Bill treated these suggestions with scorn.  “If any man in the company has better advice to offer, let him stand forth,” said he.

Bunyip Bluegum stood forth.  “My advice,” he said, “is this:  try the case without the Judge; or, in other words, assume the legal functions of this defaulting personage in the bag-wig who is at present engaged in distending himself illegally with our Puddin’.  For mark how runs the axiom: 

“If you’ve a case without a Judge,
It’s clear your case will never budge;
But if a Judge you have to face,
The chances are you’ll lose your case. 
To win your case, and save your pelf,
Why, try the blooming case yourself! "

“As usual, our friend here solves the problem in a few well-chosen words,” said Bill, and preparations were made at once for trying the case.  After a sharp struggle, in which it was found necessary to bend the Possum’s snout severely in order to make him listen to reason, the puddin’-thieves were forced into the dock.  Their top-hats and frockcoats were taken away, for fear the jury might take them for undertakers, and not scoundrels.  The Mayor and the Constable were pushed into the jury box to perform the duties of twelve good men and true, and the others took seats about the Court as witnesses for the prosecution.

There was some delay before the proceedings began, for Bill said, “Here’s me, the Crown Prosecutor, without a wig.  This’ll never do.”  Fortunately, a wig was found in the Judge’s private room, and Bill put it on with great satisfaction.

“I’m afraid this is unconstitutional,” said the Mayor to the Constable.

“It is unconstitutional,” said the Constable; “but it’s better than getting a punch on the snout.”

The Mayor turned so pale at this that the Constable had to thrust a banana into his mouth to restore his courage.

“Thank you,” said the Mayor, peevishly; " but, on the whole, I prefer to be restored with peeled bananas.”

“Order in the jury box,” said Bill, sharply, and the Mayor having hurriedly bolted his banana, peel and all, proceedings commenced.