western ocean First Mates, and many's the bootin' I've had for not takin' in the slack of the topsail halyards fast enough to suit their fancy. It's a hard life, the sea, and Sam here'll bear me out when I say that bein' hit on the head with a belayin' pin while tryin' to pick up the weather earring is an experience that no man wants twice. But toon up, and a song all round."

"I shall sing you the `The Penguin Bold,'" said Sam, and, striking a graceful attitude, he sang this song—

"To see the penguin out at sea,
  And watch how he behaves,
Would prove that penguins cannot be
  And never shall be slaves.
You haven't got a notion
How penguins brave the ocean,
  And laugh with scorn at waves.

"To see the penguin at his ease
  Performing fearful larks
With stingarees of all degrees,
  As well as whales and sharks ;
The sight would quickly let you know
The great contempt that penguins show
  For stingarees and sharks.

"O see the penguin as he goes
  A-turning Catherine wheels,
Without repose upon the nose
  Of walruses and seals.
But bless your heart, a penguin feels
Supreme contempt for foolish seals,
  While he never fails, where'er he goes,
  To turn back-flaps on a walrus nose."

"It's all very fine," said the Puddin' gloomily, "singing about the joys of being penguins and pirates, but how'd you like to be a Puddin' and be eaten all day long?"

And in a very gruff voice he sang as follows:—

"O, who would be a puddin',
  A puddin' in a pot,
A puddin' which is stood on
  A fire which is hot ?
O sad indeed the lot
Of puddin's in a pot.

"I wouldn't be a puddin'
  If I could be a bird,
If I could be a wooden
  Doll, I wouldn't say a word.
Yes, I have often heard
It's grand to be a bird.

"But as I am a puddin',
  A puddin' in a pot,
I hope you get the stomachache
  For eatin' me a lot.
I hope you get it hot,
You puddin'-eatin' lot!"

"Very well sung, Albert," said Bill encouragingly, "though you're a trifle husky in your undertones, which is no doubt due to the gravy in your innards. However, as a reward for bein' a bright little feller we shall have a slice of you all round before turnin' in for the night."

So they whistled up the plum-duff side of the Puddin', and had supper. When that was done, Bill stood up and made a speech to Bunyip Bluegum.

"I am now about to put before you an important proposal," said Bill. "Here you are, a young intelligent feller, goin' about seein' the world by yourself. Here is Sam an' me, two as fine fellers as ever walked, goin' about the world with a Puddin'. My proposal to you is—Join us, and become a member of the Noble Society of Puddin'-Owners. The duties of the Society," went on Bill, "are light. The members are required to wander along the roads, indulgin' in conversation, song and story, eatin' at regular intervals at the Puddin'. And now, what's your answer?"

"My answer," said Bunyip Bluegum, "is, Done with you."
And, shaking hands warmly all round, they loudly sang.

THE PUDDIN'-OWNERS' ANTHEM.

"The solemn word is plighted,
  The solemn tale is told,
We swear to stand united,
  Three puddin'-owners bold.

"Hurrah for puddin'-owning,
  Hurrah for Friendship's hand,
The puddin'-thieves are groaning
  To see our noble band.

"When we with rage assemble,
  Let puddin'-snatchers groan;
Let puddin'-burglars tremble,
  They'll ne'er our puddin' own.

"Hurrah, we'll stick together,
  And always bear in mind
To eat our puddin' gallantly,
  Whenever we're inclined.

"Having given three rousing cheers, they shook hands once more and turned in for the night. After such a busy day, walking, talking, fighting, singing, and eating puddin', they were all asleep in a pig's whisper.

SECOND SLICE

The Society of Puddin'-Owners were up bright and early next morning, and had the billy on and tea made before six o'clock, which is the best part of the day, because the world has just had his face washed, and the air smells like Pears' soap.

"Aha," said Bill Barnacle, cutting up slices of the Puddin', "this is what I call grand. Here we are, after a splendid night's sleep on dry leaves, havin' a smokin' hot slice of steak-and-kidney for breakfast round the camp fire. What could be more delightful?"

"What indeed?" said Bunyip Bluegum, sipping his tea.

"Why, as I always say," said Bill, "if there's one thing more entrancin' than sittin' round a camp fire in the evenin' it's sittin' round a camp fire in the mornin'. No beds and blankets and breakfast tables for Bill Barnacle. For as I says in my `Breakfast Ballad'—

"If there's anythin' better than lyin' on leaves,
  It's risin' from leaves at dawnin',
If there's anythin' better than sleepin' at eve,
  It's wakin' up in the mawnin'.

"If there's anythin' better than camp firelight,
  It's bright sunshine on wakin'.
If there's anythin' better than puddin' at night,
  It's puddin' when day is breakin'.

"If there's anythin' better than singin' away
  While the stars are gaily shinin',
Why, it's singin' a song at dawn of day,
  On puddin' for breakfast dinin'."

There was a hearty round of applause at this song, for, as Bunyip Bluegum remarked, "singing at breakfast should certainly be more commonly indulged in, as it greatly tends to enliven what is on most occasions a somewhat dull proceeding."

"One of the great advantages of being a professional puddin'-owner," said Sam Sawnoff, "is that songs at breakfast are always encouraged. None of the ordinary breakfast rules, such as scowling while eating, and saying the porridge is as stiff as glue and the eggs are as tough as leather, are observed. Instead, songs, roars of laughter, and boisterous jests are the order of the day. For example, this sort of thing," added Sam, doing a rapid back-flap and landing with a thump on Bill's head. As Bill was unprepared for this act of boisterous humour, his face was pushed into the Puddin' with great violence, and the gravy as splashed in his eye.

"What d'yer mean, playin' such bungfoodlin' tricks on a man at breakfast?" roared Bill.

"What d'yer mean," shouted the Puddin', "playing such foodbungling tricks on a Puddin' being breakfasted at?"

"Breakfast humour, Bill, merely breakfast humour," said Sam, hastily.

"Humour's humour," shouted Bill, "but puddin' in the whiskers is no joke."

"Whiskers in the Puddin' is worse than puddin' in the whiskers," shouted the Puddin', standing up in his basin.

"Observe the rules, Bill," said Sam hurriedly. "Boisterous humour at the breakfast table must be greeted with roars of laughter."

"To Jeredelum with the rules," shouted Bill. "Pushing a man's face into his own breakfast is beyond rules or reason, and deserves a punch in the gizzard."

Seeing matters arriving at this unpromising situation, Bunyip Bluegum interposed by saying, "Rather than allow this happy occasion to be marred by unseemly recriminations, let us,