human
If you would be Gay and free, Take my tip and Live in a tree.
gpt
We will, we will, shouted the Puddin'-owners; but the Puddin' said sourly:
human
This is all very well, all this high falutin'. But what about the dreadful news of me being poisoned at ten-thirty this morning?
gpt
You ain't poisoned, Albert, said Bill.
human
That was only a mere ruse de guerre, as they say in the noosepapers.
gpt
Let words be sufficient, without explanation, said Bill, severely.
human
And as we haven't time to waste talkin' philosophy to a Puddin', why, into the bag he goes, or we'll never get the story finished.
gpt
Brilliant as our friend Bunyip has proved himself with his ready wit, it remains for old Bill to suggest the brightest idea of all. Here is our friend Ben, a market gardener of the finest description. Very well. Why not build our house in his market garden. The advantages are obvious. Vegetables free of charge the whole year round, and fruit in season. Eggs to be had for the askin', and a fine, simple, honest feller like Ben, to chat to of an evening. What could be more delightful?
human
I very much doubt whether there will be enough bed clothes for four people, let alone the carrots are very nervous of strangers--
gpt
Say no more, said Bill, handsomely.
human
Rough, good-humoured fellers like us don't need apologies, or any social fal-lals at all. We'll take you as we find you. Without more ado, we shall build a house in your market garden.