Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Magic Pudding by Norman Lindsay (read this if TXT) 📖
- Author: Norman Lindsay
Book online «The Magic Pudding by Norman Lindsay (read this if TXT) 📖». Author Norman Lindsay
'These are very treacherous sentiments, Albert,' said Bill sternly. 'These are very ignoble and shameless words,' but the Puddin' merely laughed scornfully, and called Bill a bun-headed old beetle-crusher.
'Very well,' said Bill, enraged, 'we shall see if a low puddin'-thief is better than a noble Puddin'-owner. When you see the terrible suspicions I shall indulge in to-day you'll regret them words.'
To prove his words Bill insisted on closely inspecting everybody he met, in case they should be puddin'-thieves in disguise.
To start off with, they had an unpleasant scene with a Kookaburra, a low larrikin who resented the way that Bill examined him.
'Who are you starin' at, Poodle's Whiskers?' he asked.[Pg 72]
'Never mind,' said Bill. 'I'm starin' at you for a good an' sufficient reason.'
'Are yer?' said the Kookaburra. 'Well, all I can say is that if yer don't take yer dial outer the road I'll bloomin' well take an' bounce a gibber off yer crust,' and he followed them for quite a long way, singing out insulting things such as, 'You with the wire whiskers,' and 'Get onter the bloke with the face fringe.'
Bill, of course, treated this conduct with silent contempt. It was his rule through life, he said, never to fight people with beaks.
The next encounter they had was with a Flying-fox who, though not so vulgar and rude as the Kookaburra, was equally enraged because, as Bill had suspicions that he was the Possum disguised, he insisted on measuring him to see if he was the same length.
'Nice goings on, indeed,' said the Flying-fox, while Bill was measuring him, 'if a man can't go about his business without being measured by total strangers. A[Pg 73] nice thing, indeed, to happen to Finglebury Flying-fox, the well-known and respected fruit stealer.'
However, he was found to be six inches too short, so they let him go, and he hurried off, saying, 'I shall have the Law on you for this, measuring a man in a public place without being licensed as a tailor.'
The third disturbance due to Bill's suspicions occurred while Bunyip Bluegum was in a grocer's shop. They had run out of tea and sugar, and happening to pass through the town of Bungledoo took the opportunity of laying in a fresh supply. If Bunyip hadn't been in the shop, as was pointed out afterwards, the trouble wouldn't have occurred. The first he heard of it was a scream of 'Help, help, murder is being done!' and rushing out of the[Pg 74] shop, what was his amazement to see no less a person than his Uncle Wattleberry bounding and plunging about the road with Bill hanging on to his whiskers, and Sam hanging on to one leg.
'I've got him,' shouted Bill. 'Catch a hold of his other leg and give me a chance to get his whiskers off.'
'But why are you taking his whiskers off?' inquired Bunyip Bluegum.[Pg 75]
'Because they're stuck on with glue,' shouted Bill. 'I saw it at a glance. It's Watkin Wombat, Esq., disguised as a company promoter.'
'Dear me,' said Bunyip, hurriedly, 'you are making a mistake. This is not a puddin'-thief, this is an Uncle.'
'A what?' exclaimed Bill, letting go the whiskers.
'An Uncle,' replied Bunyip Bluegum.
'An Uncle,' roared Uncle Wattleberry. 'An Uncle of[Pg 76] the highest integrity. You have most disgracefully and unmercifully pulled an Uncle's whiskers.'
'I can assure you,' said Bill, 'I pulled them under the delusion that you was a disguised Wombat.'
'That is no excuse, sir,' bellowed Uncle Wattleberry. 'No one but an unmitigated ruffian would pull an Uncle's whiskers.
Would pluck an Uncle's whiskers in their pride,
What baseness, then, doth such a man disclose
Who'd raise a hand to pluck an Uncle's nose?'
'If I've gone too far,' said Bill, 'I apologize. If I'd known you was an Uncle I wouldn't have done it.'
'Apologies are totally inadequate,' shouted Uncle Wattleberry. 'Nothing short of felling you to the earth with an umbrella could possibly atone for the outrage. You are a danger to the whisker-growing public. You have knocked my hat off, pulled my whiskers, and tried to remove my nose.'
'Pullin' your nose,' said Bill, solemnly, 'is a mistake any man might make, for I put it to all present, as man to man, if that nose don't look as if it's only gummed on.'
All present were forced to admit that it was a mistake that any man might make. 'Any man,' as Sam remarked, 'would think he was doing you a kindness by trying to pull it off.'
'Allow me to point out also, my dear Uncle,' said Bunyip Bluegum, 'that your whiskers were responsible for this seeming outrage. Let your anger, then, be assuaged by the consciousness that you are the victim, not of malice, but of the misfortune of wearing whiskers.'[Pg 77]
'How now,' exclaimed Uncle Wattleberry. 'My nephew Bunyip among these sacrilegious whisker-pluckers and nose-pullers. My nephew, not only aiding and abetting these ruffians, but seeking to palliate their crimes! This is too much. My feelings are such that nothing but bounding and plunging can relieve them.'
And thereupon did Uncle Wattleberry proceed to bound and plunge with the greatest activity, shouting all the while—
Like this in festive mood.
I bound that bounding may expunge
The thought of insult rude.
His anger must be drowned;
It is to soothe an Uncle's grief
That thus I plunge and bound.
My mighty anger seeks
So much relief that I engage
To plunge and bound for weeks.'
Seeing that there was no possibility of inducing Uncle Wattleberry to look at the affair in a reasonable light, they walked off and left him to continue his bounding and plunging for the amusement of the people of Bungledoo, who brought their chairs out on to the footpath in order to enjoy the sight at their ease. Bill's intention to regard everybody he met with suspicion was somewhat damped by this mistake, and he said there ought to be a law to prevent a man going about looking as if he was a disguised puddin'-thief.
The most annoying part of it all was that when the puddin'-thieves did make their appearance they weren't disguised at all. They were dressed as common ordinary[Pg 78] puddin'-thieves, save that the Possum carried a bran bag in his hand and the Wombat waved a white flag.
'Well, if this isn't too bad,' shouted Bill, enraged. 'What d'you mean, comin' along in this unexpected way without bein' disguised?'
'No, no,' sang out the Possum. 'No disguises to-day.'
'No fighting, either,' said the Wombat.
'No disguises, no fighting, and no puddin'-stealing,'[Pg 79] said the Possum. 'Nothing but the fairest and most honourable dealings.'
'If you ain't after our Puddin', what are you after?' demanded Bill.
'We're after bringing you a present in this bag,' said the Possum.
'Absurd,' said Bill. 'Puddin'-thieves don't give presents away.'
'Don't say that, Bill,' said the Possum, solemnly. 'If you only knew what noble intentions we have, you'd be ashamed of them words.'[Pg 80]
'You'd blush to hear your voice a-utterin' of them,' said the Wombat.
'I can't make this out at all,' said Bill, scratching his head. 'The idea of a puddin'-thief offering a man a present dumbfounds me, as the saying goes.'
'No harm is intended,' said the Possum, and the Wombat added: 'Harm is as far from our thoughts as from the thoughts of angels.'
'Well, well,' said Bill, at length. 'I'll just glance at it first, to see what it's like.'
But the Possum shook his head. 'No, no, Bill,' he said, 'no glancing,' and the Wombat added: 'To prove that no deception is intended, all heads must look in the bag together.'
'What's to be done about this astoundin' predicament?' said Bill. 'If there is a present, of course we may as well have it. If there ain't a present, of course[Pg 81] we shall simply have to punch their snouts as usual.'
'One must confess,' said Bunyip Bluegum, 'to the prompting of a certain curiosity as to the nature of this present'; and Sam added, 'Anyway, there's no harm in having a look at it.'
'No harm whatever,' said the Possum, and he held the bag open invitingly. The Puddin'-owners hesitated a moment, but the temptation was too strong, and they all looked in together. It was a fatal act. The Possum whipped the bag over their heads, the Wombat whipped a rope round the bag, and there they were, helpless.
The worst of it was that the Puddin', being too short to look in, was left outside, and the puddin'-thieves grabbed him at once and ran off like winking. To add to the Puddin'-owners' discomfiture there was a considerable amount of bran in the bag; and, as Bill said afterwards, 'if there's anything worse than losing a valuable Puddin', it's bran in the whiskers'. They bounded and plunged about, but soon had to stop that on account of treading on each other's toes—especially[Pg 82] Sam's, who endured agonies, having no boots on.
'What a frightful calamity,' groaned Bill giving way to despair.
'It's worse than being chased by natives on the Limpopo River,' said Sam.
'It's worse than fighting Arabs single-handed,' croaked Bill.
'It's almost as bad as being pecked on the head by eagles,' said Sam, and in despair they sang in muffled tones—
O what a frightful fag,
To have to walk about like this
All tied up in a bag.
Us on this fearful jag;
In noble confidence we bent
To look inside this bag.[Pg 83]
Upon our way we drag;
Condemned for evermore to wear
This frightful, fearsome bag.'
Bunyip Bluegum reproved this faint-heartedness, saying, 'As our misfortunes are due to exhibiting too great a trust in scoundrels, so let us bear them with the greater fortitude. As in innocence we fell, so let our conduct in this hour of dire extremity be guided by the courageous endurance of men whose consciences are free from guilt.'
[Pg 84]
These fine words greatly stimulated the others, and they endured with fortitude, walking on Sam's feet for an hour and a half, when the sound of footsteps apprised them that a traveller was approaching.
This traveller was a grave, elderly dog named Benjimen Brandysnap, who was going to market with eggs. Seeing three people walking in a bag he naturally supposed they were practising for the sports, but on hearing their appeals for help he very kindly undid the rope.
'Preserver,' exclaimed Bill, grasping him by the hand.
'Noble being,' said Sam.
'Guardian angel of oppressed Puddin'-owners,' said Bunyip Bluegum.
Benjimen was quite overcome by these expressions of[Pg 85] esteem, and handed round eggs, which were eaten on the spot.
'And now,' said Bill, again shaking hands with their preserver, 'I am about to ask you a most important question. Have you seen any puddin'-thieves about this mornin'?'
'Puddin'-thieves,' said Benjimen. 'Let me see. Now that you mention it, I remember seeing two puddin'-thieves at nine-thirty this morning. But they weren't stealing puddin's. They were engaged stealing a bag out of my stable. I was busy
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