The Magic Pudding
Written and Illustrated by Norman Lindsay (1879 - 1969)
. . . the story continues . . .
But at length they had to stop, in spite of these encouraging remarks, and, as they refused to eat any more, the Puddin' got out of his basin, remarking —'If you won't eat any more here's giving you a run for the sake of exercise', and he set off so swiftly on a pair of extremely thin legs that Bill had to run like an antelope to catch him up.
'My word,' said Bill, when the Puddin' was brought back.
'You have to be as smart as paint to keep this Puddin' in order. He's that artful, lawyers couldn't manage him. Put your hat on, Albert, like a little gentleman,' he added, placing the basin on his head. He took the Puddin's hand, Sam took the other, and they all set off along the road. A peculiar thing about the Puddin' was that, though they had all had a great many slices off him, there was no sign of the place whence the slices had been cut.
'That's where the Magic comes in,' explained Bill. 'The more you eats the more you gets. Cut-an'-come-again is his name, an' cut, an' come again, is his nature. Me an' Sam has been eatin' away at this Puddin' for years, and there's not a mark on him. Perhaps,' he added, 'you would like to hear how we came to own this remarkable Puddin'.'
'Nothing would please me more,' said Bunyip Bluegum.
'In that case,' said Bill, 'let her go for a song.'
'Ho, the cook of the Saucy Sausage,
'One winter's morn we rounds the Horn,
'For Sam an' me an' the cook, yer see,
'And Sam and me we couldn't agree
'Says Sam to me, "It's a mystery
'But late one night we wakes in fright
'There's a verse left out here,' said Bill, stopping the song, 'owin' to the difficulty of explainin' exactly what happened, when me and Sam discovered the deceitful nature of that cook. The next verse is as follows —
'Now Sam an' me can never agree