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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:41:42 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:41:42 -0700 |
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diff --git a/old/13244-h/13244-h.htm b/old/13244-h/13244-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f954450 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13244-h/13244-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4072 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + + <title>Punch among the Planets, The Christmas Number, + 1890.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + .inline {border: none; vertical-align: middle;} + + .footnote {font-size: 0.9em; margin-right: 10%; margin-left: 10%;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + + .side { float:right; + font-size: 75%; + width: 25%; + padding-left:10px; + border-left: dashed thin; + margin-left: 10px; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + font-weight: bold; + font-style: italic;} + --> + /*]]>*/ + </style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch Among the Planets, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch Among the Planets + +Author: Various + +Release Date: August 21, 2004 [EBook #13244] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH AMONG THE PLANETS *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Punch Among the Planets.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>The Christmas Number, 1890.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page1" + id="page1"></a>[pg 1]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/1.png" + alt="Punch Among the Planets" /></a> + </div> + + <h3>INTRODUCTION.</h3> + + <p>The Old Year was fast nearing its close, the night was clear + and starry, and Father Time, from the top of his observatory + tower, was taking a last look round.</p> + + <p>To him entered, unannounced save by the staccato yap of the + faithful <i>Tobias</i>, Time's unfailing friend, unerring + Mentor, and immortal contemporary, <i>Mr. Punch</i>.</p> + + <p>"<i>I</i> am not for an age, but for All Time," freely + quoted the Swan's sole parallel. "And very much at Time's + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page2" + id="page2"></a>[pg 2]</span> service," he added, throwing + open his fur-lined "Immensikoff," and lighting a cigar at + the Scythe-bearer's lantern.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/2.png" + alt="Mr. Punch and Father Time" /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Happy to meet you once more, <i>Mr. Punch</i>," responded + old Edax Rerum, turning from what the poet calls his 'Optic + Tube' to welcome his sprightly visitor. "Awfully good of you to + turn up just now. Like True THOMAS's <i>Teufelsdröckh</i>, 'I + am alone with the Stars,' and was beginning to feel just a + little bit lonely."</p> + + <p>"With the Voces Stellarum to keep you company? You surprise + me," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>. "But what is all this?" he added, + pointing with accustomed eye to a pile of MS. at TIME's + elbow.</p> + + <p>If so old a stager as Father TIME <i>can</i> blush, he + certainly did so on this occasion.</p> + + <p>"Fact is, <i>Mr. Punch</i>," he rejoined, "I, like younger + and shall I say lesser Celebrities, have been writing my + 'Reminiscences.' Ha ha! <i>The Chronicles of Chronos</i> in + 6,000 volumes or so—up to now. This is a small portion of + my <i>Magnum Opus</i>. Can you recommend me to a + publisher?"</p> + + <p>"Ask my friend Archdeacon FARRAR," responded the Sage, + drily. "What a work! And what a sensation! TALLEYRAND's + long-talked-of 'Memoirs' not in it! Do you know, my dear TIME, + I think you had better postpone the publication—for an + æon or so at least. <i>Your Magnum Opus</i> might become a + <i>Scandalum Magnatum</i>."</p> + + <p>"Ah, perhaps so," replied TIME, with a sigh.</p> + + <p>"Alone with the Stars," pursued <i>Mr. Punch</i>, + meditatively. "Humph! The Solar System alone ought to provide + you with plenty of company."</p> + + <p>"Yes." responded TIME, "but, after all, you know, telescopic + intercourse is not entirely satisfactory. Like EDGAR POE's + <i>Hans Pfaal</i>, I feel I should like to come to closer + quarters with the 'heavenly bodies' as the pedagogues call + them."</p> + + <p>"And why not?" queried <i>Mr. Punch</i>, coolly.</p> + + <p>"As how?" asked his companion.</p> + + <p>"TIME, my boy" laughed the Sage, "you seem a bit behind + yourself. Listen! 'Mr. EDISON is prosecuting an experiment + designed to catch and record the sounds made in the sun's + photosphere when solar spots are formed by eruptions beneath + the surface.' Have you not read the latest of the + Edisoniana?"</p> + + <p>TIME admitted he had not.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"TIME, you rogue, you love to get</p> + + <p>Sweets upon your list—put <i>that</i> in,"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>quoted the Sage. "Something piquant for the 6001st Vol. of + your Chronicles. But, after all, what is EDISON compared with + Me? If you really wish for a turn round the Solar System, a + peregrination of the Planets, put aside that antiquated + spy-glass of yours and come with Me!"</p> + + <p>And, "taking TIME by the forelock," in a very real sense, + the Sage of Fleet Street rose with him like a Brock rocket, + high, and swift, and light-compelling, into the star-spangled + vault of heaven.</p> + + <p>"SIC ITUR AD ASTRA!" said the Sage.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Twinkle, twinkle, Fleet Street Star!</p> + + <p>Saturn wonders who <i>you</i> are,</p> + + <p>Up above the world so high,</p> + + <p>Like a portent in the sky.</p> + + <p>Wonders if, Jove-like, you want,</p> + + <p>Him to banish and supplant!</p> + + <p>Fear not, Saturn; <i>Punch's</i> bolt</p> + + <p>Arms Right Order, not Revolt;</p> + + <p>Dread no fratricidal wars</p> + + <p>From this 'Star' among the Stars!"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" + id="page3"></a>[pg 3]</span> + + <h2>VISIT TO SATURN.</h2> + + <p>"I am glad to hear <i>that</i>, at any rate," said Saturn, + welcoming the illustrious guests to his remote golden-ringed + realm.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/3-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/3-1.png" + alt="Labor-Briareus and Capital." /></a> + </div> + + <p>Saturn, however, did not look exactly comfortable, and his + voice, how unlike "To that large utterance of the early gods," + sounded quavering and querulous.</p> + + <p>"It is customary," said he, "to talk, as the old Romans + rather confusedly did, of 'the Saturnian reign' as the true + 'Golden Age,' identified with civilisation, social order, + economic perfection, and agricultural profusion. As a matter of + fact, I've always been treated badly, from the day when Jupiter + dethroned me to that when, the Grand Old Man—who + <i>ought</i> to have had more sympathy with me—banished + hither the strife-engendering Pedant's hotch-potch called + Political Economy."</p> + + <p>"Be comforted, Saturn, old boy—<i>I</i> am here!" + cried <i>Mr. Punch</i>. "I am 'personally conducting' Father + TIME in a tour of the Planets. Let's have a look round your + realm!"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> sums up much of what he saw in modern + "Saturnian Verses."</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Punch</i>. Good gracious! my worthy old Ancient, + who once held the sway of the heavens,</p> + + <p class="i2">Your realm seems a little bit shaky; what + mortals call "sixes and sevens"!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Saturn</i>. That's scarcely god-lingo, my boy; + but 'tis much as you say, and no wonder.</p> + + <p class="i2">Free imports have ruined my realm—I + refer to Bad-Temper and Blunder,</p> + + <p class="i2">Two brutish and boobyish + Titans—they've wholly corrupted our morals,</p> + + <p class="i2">And taught us "Boycotting," and + "Strikes," and "Lock-outs," and all sorts of mad + quarrels.</p> + + <p class="i2">I hope you don't know them down there, in + your queer little speck of a planet,</p> + + <p class="i2">These humbugging latter-day Titans?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p> + <i>Punch</i>. That + cannot concern you—now can it?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Saturn</i>. Just look at the shindy down + yonder!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p> + <i>Punch</i>. By + Jove, what the doose are they doing?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Saturn</i>. Oh, settling the Great Social + Question!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Father + Time</i>. It + looks as though mischief were brewing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Saturn</i>. Sort of parody of the old fight, + which was splendid at least, if tremendous,</p> + + <p class="i2">'Twixt Jove and the Titans of old. That + colossus, gold-armoured, stupendous,</p> + + <p class="i2">Perched high on the "Privilege" ramparts, + and bastioned by big bags of bullion,</p> + + <p class="i2">Is "Capital"; he's the new Jove, and each + Titan would treat as his scullion,</p> + + <p class="i2">But look at the huge Hundred-Handed One, + armed with the scythe and the sickle,</p> + + <p class="i2">The hammer, the spade, and the pick!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Father + Time</i>. Things + appear in no end of a pickle!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Saturn</i>. Precisely! That's Labour-Briareus; + backed up by "Bad Temper" and "Blunder,"</p> + + <p class="i2">And egged on by "Spout" (with a + Fog-Horn); he's "going for" him of the Thunder,</p> + + <p class="i2">And Gold ramparts headlong, <i>à + outrance</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p> + <i>Punch</i>. But + look at the spectres behind them!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Saturn</i>. Ah! Terrors from Tartarus, those to + which only Bad Temper can blind them.</p> + + <p class="i2">Those spectres foreshadow grim fate; they + are Lawlessness, Ruin, Starvation;</p> + + <p class="i2">To the Thunderer dismal defeat, to the + conquerors blank desolation.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The Sage looked serious.</p> + + <p>These things, mused he, are an allegory, perhaps, but of a + significance not wholly Saturnian.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/3-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/3-2.png" + alt="Mr. Punch and Father Time take their departure." /> + </a> + </div> + + <p>"Saturn, old boy" said he, "cannot what sentimentalists call + 'the Dismal Science,' which as you say has been banished + hither, do anything to help you out of this hobble?"</p> + + <p>"The Dismal Science," responded Saturn, whose panaceas of + Unrestricted Competition, Free Combination, Cheap Markets, + Supply and Demand, &c., have landed its disciples in + Sweating Dens on the one side and Universal Strikes on the + other, can hardly offer itself as a cure for the New Socialism. + Like Rhea of old, when asked for food, it proffers a + stone."</p> + + <p>"Ah!" quoth Father TIME, "you manage these things much + better on the Earth, doubtless."</p> + + <p>"Doubtless," replied the Sage, drily, as he and Father TIME + took their departure.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page4" + id="page4"></a>[pg 4]</span> + + <h2>VISIT TO MARS.</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:28%;"> + <a href="images/4-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/4-1.png" + alt="Mechanical Sentry." /></a> + </div> + + <p>So Mr. PUNCH, holding TIME by the forelock, continued his + journey.</p> + + <p>"Where are we now?" asked the more elderly gentleman.</p> + + <p>"My good friend," replied the Sage of Fleet Street, "we are + approaching Mars, which as you know, or should know (if your + education has been completed under the supervision of the + School Board) is sometimes called the Red Planet."</p> + + <p>"So I have often heard. But why?"</p> + + <p>"That is what we shall soon discover. But now keep quiet, as + we have arrived."</p> + + <p>With the gentlest of gentle shocks <i>Mr. Punch</i> and his + companion found themselves on a mound, which they soon + recognised as a mountain. Looking below them, they saw masses + of scarlet, apparently in motion. It was then that TIME + regretted that he had not brought with him his telescope.</p> + + <p>"It would have been so useful," he murmured, "and if a + little bulky, what of that? Surely <i>Mr. Punch</i> is + accustomed to make light of everything?"</p> + + <p>"See, some one is approaching," observed the Sage of Fleet + Street, whose eye-sight was better than that of his companion. + And sure enough a lively young officer at this moment put in an + appearance, and saluted.</p> + + <p>"Glad to see you both," said he; "and, by order of the + General Commander-in-Chief, you are to make what use you please + of me. I am entirely at your service."</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/4-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/4-2.png" + alt="Private Tommy Atkins at his ease." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Why, you speak English!" exclaimed <i>Mr. Punch</i>.</p> + + <p>"That is so!" returned the young officer in American; "and + why not? Besides I know French, Russian, German, and all the + languages spoken on your little globe, to say nothing of the + dialects used by those who inhabit the rest of the planets. + It's our system. Nowadays, a man in the Service is expected to + be up in everything. If he wasn't, how on earth could he fight, + or do anything else in a satisfactory fashion? And now let us + bustle along."</p> + + <p>"But first," put in TIME, who did not relish being silent, + "will you kindly tell us what those masses of colour are?"</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/4-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/4-3.png" + alt="Troops in peace and in war." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Certainly. They are troops. We put them in scarlet in + peace, but they appear in their shirtsleeves the moment war's + declared. Novel idea, isn't it?"</p> + + <p>And then the pleasant-spoken young officer led the way to a + lift, and, touching a button, the three descended from the top + of the mountain to the valley beneath.</p> + + <p>"On the counterweight system," explained the A.D.C. "We + cribbed the idea from Folkestone, and Lynmouth. And here, + <i>Mr. Punch</i>, is something that will interest you. We + absolutely howled at that sketch of yours showing the + mechanical policeman. Don't you know—old woman puts a + penny in the slot and stops the traffic? And here's the idea + developed. See that mechanical sentry. I put a penny in the + slot, and he pays me the usual compliment. He shoulders arms, + as I am only a captain—worse luck! If I were of field + rank he would come smartly to the present."</p> + + <p>And sure enough the mechanical soldier saluted.</p> + + <p>"It's not half a bad idea," continued the agreeable A.D.C. + "You see sentry-go is awfully unpopular, and a figure of iron + in times of peace is every bit as good as a man of brass. The + pence go to the Canteen Fund along with the fines for + drunkenness. It seems reasonable enough that a fellow, if he + wants to be saluted, should pay for the swagger. If a fellow + likes to turn out the guard, he can do it with + sixpence—but then of course he hasn't the right unless + his rank permits it—see?"</p> + + <p>By this time the mechanical soldier had returned to the + slope, and was parading his beat in a somewhat jerky + manner.</p> + + <p>"And now what would you fellows like to do?" asked the + A.D.C. "Pardon the familiarity, but nowadays age doesn't count, + does it? Everybody's young. One of the best <i>Juliets</i> I + ever knew had turned sixty, and played to a <i>Romeo</i> who + was twenty years her senior. Nothing like that down below, I + suppose?"</p> + + <p>"Nothing," returned <i>Mr. + Punch</i>.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page5" + id="page5"></a>[pg 5]</span> + + <p>"So I have always understood. Well, where shall we go + first?"</p> + + <p>"Anywhere you like," said the Sage of Fleet Street. "But are + you sure that we are not unduly trespassing on your time?"</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:70%;"> + <a href="images/5-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/5-1.png" + alt="The Intelligence Department of the Army." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Not at all—only too delighted. It's all in the day's + work. We have a lot of distinguished visitors that we have to + take round. I like it myself, but some of our fellows kick + against it. Of course it doesn't refer to you two; but you can + fancy what a nuisance it must be for all our fellows to have to + get up in full rig, and bow and scrape, and march and + countermarch, and go through the whole bag of tricks, to some + third-rate Royalty? Ah! they are happier off at Aldershot, + aren't they?"</p> + + <p>"No doubt," was the prompt reply.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> and Father TIME had now entered a barrack + square, wherein a number of trembling recruits were standing in + front of a sergeant.</p> + + <p>"I am just putting them through their paces, Sir," said he: + "they are a bit rusty in bowing drill."</p> + + <p>The A.D.C. nodded, and, turning on his heel, explained to + the visitors that it was the object of the Authorities to + introduce as much as possible of the civil element into the + Army.</p> + + <p>"You will see this idea carried out a little further in the + institution we are now entering," he added, as the three walked + into a building that looked like a handsome Club-house. At the + door was an officer in the uniform of the Guards.</p> + + <p>"Hullo, HUGHIE," said the A.D.C., "on duty to-day?"</p> + + <p>"As hall-porter. CHARLIE is smoking-room waiter. I say, do + you want to take your friends round?"</p> + + <p>"Well, I should like to let them get a glimpse of TOMMY + ATKINS at his ease."</p> + + <p>"All right, you can pass. But, I say, just warn them to keep + quiet when they get near him. We have had no end of a time to + smooth him down."</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:22%;"> + <a href="images/5-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/5-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>Thus warned, the Sage and Father TIME passed through the + hall and entered the smoking-room. Stretched at full length on + a couple of chairs was a Private, lazily sipping a glass of + brandy and soda-water, that had just been supplied to him by an + officer of his own battalion. On withdrawing, the A.D.C. + greeted the commissioned waiter who answered to the name of + CHARLIE.</p> + + <p>"Rather rough, eh?" said he, with a glance at a tray + containing a cork-screw and an empty bottle.</p> + + <p>"A bit better than Bermuda. If we don't coerce them, we must + be polite. After all, fagging turned out the heroes of + Winchester and Westminster, and wasn't Waterloo won on the + playing-fields of Eton?"</p> + + <p>"Rather a dangerous game, isn't it?" observed <i>Mr. + Punch</i>. "You'll have to fall in next, and TOMMY will inspect + you, and give you a couple of days' extra drill for not having + cleaned your rifle!"</p> + + <p>"Well, if I don't look after my arms, I shall have merited + the punishment; and, after all, it will only be a case of turn + and turn about," was the reply. Then the A.D.C. added, "Hang + me, too, I believe, with all we fellows have to do nowadays, + that if we <i>did</i> change with TOMMY ATKINS, we, and not he, + would have the best of the bargain!"</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/5-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/5-3.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>Leaving the Soldiers' Club, <i>Mr. Punch</i> and Father TIME + continued their journey. They had not proceeded far, when the + A.D.C. invited them to enter a building known as the + Museum.</p> + + <p>"It really is a most useful and interesting institution," + said the officer of the Planet Mars. "Here, you see, we have + portrait models of the officer of the past and present. In the + past, you will notice, he sacrificed everything to athletic + sports—if he could fence, shoot, hunt, and play cricket, + polo, and football, he was quite satisfied. His successor of + to-day devotes all his time to study. He must master the higher + branches of mathematics before he is considered fit to inspect + the rear-rank of a company, and know the modern languages + before he can be entrusted with the command of a left + half-battalion. Here again we have the uniform of an officer in + peace and war—swagger and gold lace on the one side, and + stern simplicity and kharki on the other."</p> + + <p>In another room <i>Mr. Punch</i> and Father TIME discovered + that everyone was fast asleep. There was a Cabinet Minister + supported by two minor officials—all three of them + absolutely unconscious. There were any number of Generals + decorated from belt to neck—any quantity of higher-grade + clerks—one and all slumbering: "This is called the + Intelligence Department of the Army," explained the A.D.C. "You + have nothing like it in England?"</p> + + <p>"Nothing!" returned <i>Mr. Punch</i>, as he disappeared.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page6" + id="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span> + + <h2>VISIT TO MERCURY.</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/6.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/6.png" + alt="Visit to Mercury." /></a> + </div> + + <p>Mr. Punch and Father Time were once again whirling on their + way through boundless space.</p> + + <p>They were approaching their next destination, and the dark + globe of the planet had just come into view on the horizon. + Rapidly it increased in size as they neared it, and the seas + and continents could be easily traced.</p> + + <p>"Dear me?" exclaimed <i>Mr. Punch</i>. "Why, I declare if + there is not something written upon it!" and he put up his + binoculars, "Why, it is nothing more nor less than a big + advertisement. Looks like humbug," he continued. "What's the + name of the Planet, eh?"</p> + + <p>"Mercury," replied Father TIME, with cheery spirit; "and + with that device they try to catch the eye of a passing + Comet."</p> + + <p>"Hum—they won't catch me!" observed the Sage, + brightly. "I brought my truth-compeller with me—a little, + patent, electrical hypnotic arrangement, in the shape of this + ring"—he showed it as he spoke. "I have only to turn it + on my finger, and it obliges anyone who may be addressing me + instantly to speak the truth."</p> + + <p>They suddenly found themselves deposited in the centre of a + vast square, surrounded by large palatial-looking buildings, + public offices, stores, shops, picture-galleries, gigantic + blocks of private residences, in flats five-and-twenty storeys + high, and other architectural developments of the latest + constructive crazes, fashioned, apparently, after the same + models, and on similar lines, to those at present so much in + vogue in that now distant planet, the Earth. There was a + profusion of advertisement-boards, these, in many instances, + entirely covering the whole façade of the building with + large-lettered announcements of the nature of the trade or + business conducted within. An eager and excited crowd thronging + the pavements, and hustling each other, without any apparent + purpose or aim, was pushing in all directions.</p> + + <p>"I wonder what all this is about," observed <i>Mr. + Punch</i>; "suppose we ask a Policeman?"</p> + + <p>They noticed a being attired in every respect like the + familiar guardians of the peace on Earth, except that he + carried a harmless and gaily-decked bladder in place of the + more serviceable <i>bâton</i>, and beckoned to him. He + approached with polite alacrity.</p> + + <p>"You want to know what's up, Gents?" he commenced, divining + their purpose instinctively. "It's the Half-Quarterly Meeting + of the Solid Gold Extract of Brick-Dust Company. There's been + some little talk about the dividend not being quite so good as + the prospectus led the shareholders to believe, and as the + shares have been mostly taken up by widows and orphans, some of + their friends, you see, are a little anxious to hear the + Chairman's Report. But, you see, it'll be all right."</p> + + <p>At this moment a widow, with blanched cheeks and dishevelled + hair, who had been listening with an anxious and eager gaze to + what the Policeman had been saying, joined the group.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> looked at her with mournful sympathy, and + slowly turning the ring on his finger, addressed the Policeman. + "Tell me, my good man," he said, persuasively, "is that the + truth? Is it really all right?"</p> + + <p>"All right?" rejoined the guardian of the peace in + amazement, but apparently unconscious of the purport of his + speech, "I should rather think not. Call it 'all wrong' and + then you'll about hit it. Why it's well known that the patent's + all <i>fudge</i>. It's the biggest swindle out. No more in it + than in this here bladder. But you'll see; the whole thing's + burst, and you'll know it in a minute."</p> + + <p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a roar of a + thousand angry voices, followed by a sudden rush from the + building of a mad and raging crowd, obliged <i>Mr. Punch</i>, + for a moment, to pause. When the uproar had somewhat subsided, + he turned to the Policeman, and pointed feelingly to the + unfortunate widow, who had fallen on to an apple-stall in a fit + of hysterics, and, locking his arm in that of his aged + companion, proceeded to cross the square. "Give us a song, old + 'un!" shouted a portion of the mob, who had followed them.</p> + + <p>"Certainly. Oblige them!" added <i>Mr. Punch</i>, taking a + banjo from one of the crowd and placing it in Father TIME's + hands. "Give them a stanza of the Ballad of Truth."</p> + + <p>He turned his ring, and his aged companion struck up the + following ditty:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Know ye the land where dwells only mock-turtle,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where wine that should gladden but makes + you fell queer.</p> + + <p>Where bayonets bend, where guns burst and hurtle</p> + + <p class="i2">Their breech in the face of their friends + at the rear,</p> + + <p>Where lamps labelled 'safety' with just terrors fill + you,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where water supplied you for milk is no + theft,</p> + + <p>Where pills that should cure, if persisted in, kill + you</p> + + <p class="i2">And the 'Hair Resurrector' takes all + you've got left!</p> + + <p>Where soap, that should soften your skin, only flays + you,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where a horse proves a screw though got + through a friend,</p> + + <p>Where the loss of your 'cover' confounds and dismays + you,</p> + + <p class="i2">Though assured by the <i>Firm</i> 'if you + hold on t'will + mend'?</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page7" + id="page7"></a>[pg 7]</span> + + <p>Know ye, in fine, where by pushing and + 'rushing,'</p> + + <p class="i2">This—and much more, down the public + throat crams,</p> + + <p>Blatant Advertisement, brazen, + unblushing—?</p> + + <p class="i2">If you do, then you've spotted the + <i>Planet of Shams</i>."</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/7-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/7-1.png" + alt="Father Time and Mr. Punch confer with a policeman and a widow." /> + </a> + </div> + + <p>Though a few paving-stones were hurled at the aged singer, + the conclusion of his sons was greeted by a general roar of + laughter, the populace apparently recognising the picture of + their own chicanery with amusement and relish.</p> + + <p>After that they held on their way for some minutes in + silence. They had now reached the other side, and were + confronted by a couple of respectable-looking gentlemen of an + almost clerical aspect, who appeared to be catering in the + public streets in the interests of some institution. They + approached <i>Mr. Punch</i> and Father TIME, and offered them a + prospectus.</p> + + <p>"'THE DEAR LITTLE CHILDREN'S HAPPY AND ELEGANT BURIAL + INSTITUTION,'" read <i>Mr. Punch</i>, surveying the paper + presented to him, and continuing, "'<i>A trivial payment of + Ninepence a Month will ensure the youthful Subscriber, or his + Representative, a sweet and elegantly-constructed little + Coffin, beautifully frilled, with a one-black-horse Family + Omnibus Hearse, and a tray of Two Handsome Plumes. + N.B.—if preferred, payment of £2 19s. 6d. in cash on + production of Corpse.</i>'"</p> + + <p>They showed <i>Mr. Punch</i> and Father TIME up the front + steps, and ushered them into a large hall. It was thronged with + a crowd of dirty and raggedly-dressed people, and partitioned + off by a handsome and massive mahogany counter, beyond which + sat a staff of clerks busily engaged in keeping the books and + generally discharging the duties of the institution.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/7-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/7-2.png" + alt="Mrs. Macstoggins at the Dear Little Children's Happy and Elegant Burial Institution." /> + </a> + </div> + + <p>"Ha, Mrs. MACSTOGGINS, and are we in your debt again?" asked + the Agent of a beetle-browed woman of a sinister and forbidding + expression, who was thrusting a paper across the counter to the + cashier.</p> + + <p>"Yes; and I'll trouble you not to keep me waiting, + either—seeing that it's gone three days since the + burial."</p> + + <p>"Is this woman demanding the insurance money for the burial + of her own child?" asked <i>Mr. Punch</i>, sternly. And he + turned his ring. "And pray, Madam," he continued, addressing + the beetle-browed woman, "tell me the truth."</p> + + <p>"Certainly," replied the woman, as if in a trance. "First, I + insured my own KATE—then I starved her to death, and took + the money. Then little BILL followed. I let him catch cold in + the winter, and gave him a night or two on the stones, and that + finished him. Then came TIM FLAHERTY, and I managed him with + the beetle-poison, and—"</p> + + <p>"Come," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, taking Father TIME's arm once + more; "let us get out of this—I can't breathe here."</p> + + <p>Scarcely had they quitted the place ere they had to + encounter an appeal for custom, the Applicant being apparently + one of the big guns in the Mercury wine trade, and he was not + long in importuning <i>Mr. Punch</i> just to step inside his + office, and sample a delicious Lafitte of the 1874 vintage.</p> + + <p>"Now, try that, Sir," he said, at the same time offering + <i>Mr. Punch</i> a glass of the rich ruby-coloured beverage, + "and tell me what you think of it. We have a small parcel of it + still left, and could let you have it at the remarkably low + figure of 112<i>s.</i> the dozen."</p> + + <p>"It looks all right," drily replied <i>Mr. Punch</i>, "but I + can't think how you can sell it at the price." Then holding + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page8" + id="page8"></a>[pg 8]</span> up the glass critically, and + turning his ring, continued, "How do you manage it?"</p> + + <p>"How do I manage it?" replied the unconscious merchant, + laughing heartily at the apparent joke. "Why, my dear Sir, + there's not much difficulty about that. I just make it myself. + Listen to my receipt:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Potato spirit—that the 'body' finds;</p> + + <p class="i2">And then, as for colour,</p> + + <p class="i2">Be it brighter or duller,</p> + + <p>You see I am supplied with several kinds,</p> + + <p>And as to flavour, I get that desired,</p> + + <p>By adding various poisons as required.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/8-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/8-1.png" + alt="Sampling a delicious Lafitte of the 1874 vintage." /> + </a> + </div> + + <p>Ha! ha! Let me send you in a few dozen." He offered <i>Mr. + Punch</i> an elaborate price-list as he concluded his + self-condemnatory verse with an obsequious bow.</p> + + <p>"Come," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, once more taking hold of his + aged companion's arm, without condescending to give the + cheating tradesman any reply, "come—let us get out of + this. 'Pon my word, I think we've almost had enough of + Mercury!"</p> + + <p>"Their morality does seem to have reached rather a low ebb, + I must confess," replied Father TIME.</p> + + <p>"Nothing like this on our Earth, anyhow," continued <i>Mr. + Punch</i>, with a satisfied sigh of relief. "But come, we'll + hear what the whole people say of themselves. See here's a + chance. I believe there's a lot of them over there singing + their National Anthem."</p> + + <p>They listened as <i>Mr. Punch</i> spoke. He was right. There + was a vast crowd collected outside one of the principal + buildings on the other side of the square, and they were + clearly finishing some popular anthem in chorus, for, as Father + TIME and <i>Mr. Punch</i> paused to listen, the well-known + familiar refrain—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Never, never, never,</p> + + <p>Shall be slaves!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>smote their ear.</p> + + <p>"Capital! Capital!" cried <i>Mr. Punch</i>, approaching the + throng. "We'll have that again." He turned his ring once more + as he spoke, and the mob responded by shouting their second + verse.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Fool! Mercurius!</p> + + <p class="i2">Of greed thy sons are slaves;</p> + + <p>And they ever, ever, ever—</p> + + <p class="i2">Shall be knaves!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>"Come," cried <i>Mr. Punch</i>, "I think that judgment of + themselves out of their own mouths settles the matter! I have + done with them. Come, let us seek some healthier place. Up we + go!"</p> + + <p>He seized hold of Old Father TIME as he spoke, and bounded + with him upwards suddenly into space. In another minute they + were in search of a brighter, a better, and a truer world.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/8-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/8-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page9" + id="page9"></a>[pg 9]</span> + + <h2>VISIT TO JUPITER.</h2> + + <p>Father TIME with his glorious guide dropped gently down. + They found themselves in the centre of a bare expanse of dry, + grassy country, broken here and there by sand-hills. On their + right was the sea, dotted with ships. Parties of men in red + coats, and carrying in their hands curiously-shaped sticks, + were walking about in all directions. They all looked very + earnest, some of them were gloomy, some positively furious. + Occasionally they stopped, placed themselves in an uncouth + straddle-legged attitude, whirled their sticks, looked eagerly + towards the horizon, and then marched on again as solemnly as + before. One party in particular attracted the attention of + Father TIME. It was a large, mixed gathering of men, and women, + and children. They all moved or stood at a respectful distance + from the central figure, a benevolent-looking gentleman, with a + flowing white beard. He too wore a red coat, and carried a + stick. A crowd of attendants bearing more sticks followed + him.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:65%;"> + <a href="images/9.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/9.png" + alt="King Foozler the Fifth of Jupiter greets the Emperor of Barataria." /> + </a> + </div> + + <p>"Let me explain," said the Arch-Provider of Merriment to his + companion, "this ground is known as Links; the game of 'Golf' + is being played. These gentlemen are golfers. The sticks they + carry are called clubs. That bearded old gentleman is the King + of Jupiter, FOOZLER THE FIFTH. He is playing his morning round. + I will introduce you."</p> + + <p>So saying, the King of all Clubs advanced with the + Scythe-holder, and, taking advantage of a moment when King + FOOZLER, having made a long shot, was in good humour, rapidly + effected the necessary presentation.</p> + + <p>"I know this game well," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>. "It is said + to be much played in my own country now. Permit me to have the + honour of playing one hole against your Majesty."</p> + + <p>The King smiled a gracious assent. His ball had been already + placed for him on a little heap of sand about an inch high. He + advanced towards it, anxiously measured his distance, waved his + club to and fro over his ball as if in blessing, and then, + swinging it through the air, struck—nothing. The ball + remained unmoved.</p> + + <p>"He's missit the globe," muttered one of the attendants; + "I've aye tellt him to keep his eye furrmer on the ball."</p> + + <p>Four times His Majesty, whose good humour was now entirely + gone, repeated the operation with similar results. At last he + hurled his club to the ground, breaking it into splinters, and + addressed his immovable ball in strong terms.</p> + + <p>"Allow me, Your Majesty," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, as he + stepped airily forward and selected the king's best driver from + the heap of clubs carried by the chief caddie, "I think I know + how this ought to be done," and without a moment's hesitation + he delivered his stroke. The ball flew true and far until it + was merely a speck in the air, and finally dropped down about a + quarter of a mile away. "You will find it in the hole," said + the Golfer of Golfers, carelessly turning to the discomfited + King; "Oh, my Royal and Ancient One," he continued, "there are + certain things we do better in another country, and Golf is one + of them."</p> + + <p>But at this moment a great commotion arose. A messenger on a + foaming steed dashed up, and handed a despatch to the king, who + at once read it.</p> + + <p>"Dear me!" said His Majesty, "this is most annoying. The + Emperor of BARATARIA is to arrive in half an hour. He's a bit + of a young prig, and bores me dreadfully—but we must meet + him." With that he retired at once to the nearest palace, to + change his uniform. In about ten minutes he came forth a + changed man. On his head glittered an immense helmet, with a + waving plume; a tunic of gold lace was buttoned tightly round + his chest. Row upon row of stars and medals encircled him like + so many belts; his legs were hidden in an enormous pair of + jack-boots, to which were fixed a pair of huge Mexican spurs. + An immense sword dangled at his side.</p> + + <p>"This," said the King, as he motioned <i>Mr. Punch</i> and + Father TIME into his state carriage, and vaulted in after them + with as much agility as his sword and boots would permit, "is + the uniform of the Baratarian Die-hards, of which regiment I am + honorary Colonel."</p> + + <p>Thus they drove to the balloon station, at which the + Imperial guest was expected. After a few minutes, a sound of + cheering was heard.</p> + + <p>"He's coming," observed the King. "Have I got my kissing + face on?"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> reassured him. A moment afterwards the + state-balloon of BARATARIA soared up to the platform, and a + young man, gorgeously attired in the uniform of the Tenth + (Jupiter's Own) Lancers, sprang lightly from it.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Loud pealed the loyal anthem, and rattled all the + drums,</p> + + <p>And, as the guard presented, the cry went up, "He + comes!"</p> + + <p>He steps upon the platform, and, while the plaudits + ring,</p> + + <p>A King hangs round an Emperor's neck, an Emperor + hugs a King;</p> + + <p>And, with impartial kisses on both cheeks duly + pressed,</p> + + <p>The guest does homage to his host, the host salutes + his guest.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The Emperor then, having shaken <i>Mr. Punch</i> warmly by + the hand, departed with his royal host. After this, the three + potentates, <i>Punch</i> the Only, FOOZLER THE FIFTH, and the + Baratarian Emperor, called upon one another at intervals of + half an hour. This process occupied the afternoon.</p> + + <p>For the evening a state-ball at the Royal Palace had been + announced. Thither, at the appointed hour, <i>Mr. Punch</i> and + his hoary associate were conveyed. As they approached, the + royal band struck up a martial air, the Lord Chamberlain + advanced to meet them, and ushered them into the magnificent + hall in which the guests were assembling. From this a wide + double staircase led up to a marble gallery. Hall, gallery, and + staircase were filled with a brilliant crowd; the men arrayed + in every variety of uniform; the + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page10" + id="page10"></a>[pg 10]</span> ladies, to a woman, in + V-shaped dresses, the openness of which appeared to vary in + a direct ratio to the age of their wearers.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/10.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/10.png" + alt="The state ball." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"We will repose awhile," <i>Mr. Punch</i> remarked to the + Father, "and scan the multitude. This, my dear Tempus, is the + pick of Society. That stout lady, with a face like a haughty + turtle, is the Duchess of DOUBLECHIN; that graceful little + woman next to her is Lady ANGELINA BATTLEAXE—she is a + dress-maker."</p> + + <p>"A what?" inquired Father + TIME.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page11" + id="page11"></a>[pg 11]</span> + + <p>"A dress-maker," answered the Master, calmly.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"In her shop, ancient notions forsaking,</p> + + <p class="i2">The proud ANGELINA unbends;</p> + + <p>And her figure's a tall one for making</p> + + <p class="i2">A fit for the figures of friends.</p> + + <p>Our cynical latter-day Catos</p> + + <p class="i2">Are dumb when invited to dine</p> + + <p>With a Marquis who deals in potatoes,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or an Earl who takes orders for wine.</p> + + <p>And, though old-fashioned folk think it funny,</p> + + <p class="i2">It's as common as death, or as debts,</p> + + <p>To find gentlemen making their money</p> + + <p class="i2">Out of shops for the making of bets.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The stout puffy old fellow there is the wealthiest man in + Jupiter. He floats mines, asteroid mines mostly, and makes it + pay him. He can command the very best society. Those ladies + clustering round the Prince-Royal come from over the ocean. + Pretty, but twangy. A fresh consignment arrives every year. And + the Prince-Royal has the pick of them."</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/11-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/11-1.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>But before <i>Mr. Punch</i> could finish his explanatory + sketch, a tremendous uproar was heard in the court-yard of the + Palace. There was a sound as of a huge mob shouting in unison, + shots were heard, and cries of "Liberty for Ever:" vent the + air. The royal guests were in a state of terrible agitation. An + orderly covered with mud forced his way through the crowd, up + the stairs, and stood before the King.</p> + + <p>"Your Majesty," he panted, "a revolution has broken out. The + populace has erected barricades, the deposition of your House + has been declared, and a Republic proclaimed. The mob is now + marching to the Palace."</p> + + <p>The King drew himself up to his full height. Where are my + Golf-clubs? he asked in a calm voice.</p> + + <p>"Your Majesty, they have been seized and secreted."</p> + + <p>"Then all is lost. It only remains for me to depart," was + the King's heartbroken reply. "I will, in person, announce my + resignation." "I resign!" shouted the King, appearing on a + balcony overlooking the court-yard. Deafening cheers greeted + this announcement. "Bless you, my children!" sobbed the + King—"I am off to the station. Take care of my poodle, + and my pet parrot."</p> + + <p>At this the mob unanimously burst into tears. They insisted + on accompanying the deposed monarch to the station, the popular + band playing "<i>The Dead March in Saul</i>." But the King + remained calm, and marched on without swerving. At the station + he took his seat silently in the Royal Balloon, a whistle was + heard, and the car floated off into space.</p> + + <p>"I cannot say I think much of all that," said <i>Mr. + Punch</i>. "In our part of the Universe we generally manage to + get a little more bloodshed out of it."</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>VISIT TO URANUS.</h2> + + <p>The next place that the distinguished travellers visited was + Uranus, where <i>Mr. Punch</i> and his companion were much + surprised to find the entire population members of the legal + profession.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/11-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/11-2.png" + alt="An Inhabitant of Uranus." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"I have really no time to attend to you," said one of the + inhabitants, when questioned. "I have an appointment before a + Chief Clerk in Chancery of great importance—it is to + decide whether some children shall be sent to school with money + left to them by their grandfather, or if it shall be saved up + until they come of age? It would be better for the children + that they should be educated, from a layman's point of view; + but, then, this is a matter of law and not expediency."</p> + + <p>"And how will it go?"</p> + + <p>"Oh, of course, against the children. I am their father, and + appear for them. But the application is a good thing, although + it's sure to be unsuccessful—good for them, and good for + me."</p> + + <p>"But how can that be?"</p> + + <p>"You are really very dense," said the Inhabitant of Uranus. + "Haven't you noticed that the entire population is concerned in + one vast Chancery suit; consequently, on attaining majority, + one man becomes a judge, another a barrister, a third a + solicitor, and so on, and so on. Why, the place would be a + perfect Paradise to your friend Mr. A. BRIEFLESS JUNIOR! It is, + at this time of day, to the interest of no one that litigation + should cease, and so the Chancery suit, in which we are all + concerned, is likely to go on for ever."</p> + + <p>"But, surely litigation is expensive?" suggested <i>Mr. + Punch</i>.</p> + + <p>"I should rather think it was," returned the wig-wearer. + "The Law is a noble profession, and it is only right and proper + that those who indulge in it should pay for it. In the present + instance our entire estate will be absolutely exhausted."</p> + + <p>"But how will you all live?"</p> + + <p>"On the costs!" was the reply, as the Inhabitant of Uranus + hurried away to attend his appointment.</p> + + <p>"Lawyers keeping a suit alive to live upon the costs!" + exclaimed <i>Mr. Punch</i>, in tones of pained astonishment. "I + never heard the like!"</p> + + <p>And, horrified and sorrowful, he seized Father TIME by the + forelock, and once more floated into space.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page12" + id="page12"></a>[pg 12]</span> + + <h2>VISIT TO CASTOR.</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/12-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/12-1.png" + alt="Polo on Castor." /></a> + </div> + + <p>Father TIME shivered, and wrapped his ancient cloak more + closely about him.</p> + + <p>"Come, come," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, "I understand your + disgust. But there is still something left to us in which we + may take pleasure. Upon a neighbouring star the people delight + in horses. All day long they bestride them with a courage never + equalled. Swift as the wind are the steeds, and for mere honour + and glory are they matched one against the other, and from all + parts of the star the populace is gathered together in its + hundreds of thousands to applaud and to crown them that ride + the victors in the races. Let us fare thither, for the sport is + splendid, and we shall there forget the pain we have suffered + here. Indeed, it is but a short flight to Castor."</p> + + <p>Thus speaking, he seized the Father by his lock, and floated + with him into space. The roar of the Pollucian streets grew + fainter and fainter, the lights twinkled dimly, until at length + they disappeared. Then gradually the land loomed up above them + out of a bank of clouds, and in another moment the wandering + pair stood once more on <i>stella firma</i>.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/12-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/12-2.png" + alt="A royal sport." /></a> + </div> + + <p>They had alighted on an immense grassy plain, which + stretched away in every direction, as far as the eye could + reach. On every side were to be seen men and women and + children, mounted on horses. To their right a band of youths, + arrayed in coloured shirts, white linen breeches, and yellow + boots, and wearing little coloured caps, jauntily set upon + their heads, were careering wildly hither and thither on swift + and wiry ponies. They were waving in the air long sticks, + fitted with a cross block of wood at the end, and were pursuing + a wooden ball. Many were the collisions, the crashes, and the + falls. On every side men and ponies rolled over in the dust; + but they rose, shook themselves as though nothing had happened, + and dashed again into the fray. Father TIME shouted with + enthusiasm.</p> + + <p>"Yes," said the Sage, "you do well to cheer them. They are + gallant youngsters these. The game they play is 'Polo,' and + though the expense be great, the contempt of danger and pain is + also great. They play it well, but I doubt not we could match + them at Hurlingham. But see," he added, "on our left. What + rabble is that?" As he spoke a panting deer flew past them hard + pressed by a pack of yelping hounds. Close behind came a mob of + riders, two or three of them glittering in scarlet and gold, + the rest in every variety of riding-dress.</p> + + <p>"Behold," said the Arch-philosopher, "a Royal Sport. These + are the Castorian Buck-hounds; that elderly gentleman is their + master. They pay him £1500 a-year to provide sport for + Cockneys. The sport consists in letting a deer out of a cart + and chasing him till he nearly dies of fatigue. Then they rope + him and replace him in the cart. After that they all drain + their flasks, and consider themselves sportsmen. Poor stuff, I + think."</p> + + <p>"Of course," said the Father, "you have nothing of that sort + in England."</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/12-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/12-3.png" + alt="Aboard the fou-in-hand." /></a> + </div> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> was about to reply when a well-appointed + four-in-hand drove up, and a courteous gentleman who handled + the ribbons, offered the two strangers seats.</p> + + <p>"I will take you," he remarked, "to our great national + race-meeting. I assure you it is well worth seeing."</p> + + <p>The offer was accepted. A pleasant drive brought them to the + race-course. To tell the truth it was much like most other + race-courses. A huge crowd was assembled, and the din of + roaring thousands filled the air. As they drove up a race had + just started, and it was pretty to see the flash of the + coloured caps and jackets in the sun. The horses came nearer + and nearer. As they rounded the bend which led into the + straight run in, the excitement became almost too great for + Father TIME. A torrent of sporting phrases broke from his lips. + One after another he backed every horse on the card for + extravagant sums, and the bets were promptly, but methodically + booked by <i>Mr. Punch</i>. A handsome chestnut was leading by + two good lengths, and apparently going strong, but about a + hundred yards from the post he suddenly slowed down for some + unaccountable reason. In a moment a bay and a brown flew past + him, there was a final roar and the race was over. The bay had + won, the brown was second, and the chestnut a length behind, + was only third. "Most extraordinary thing that," said the + Paternal One; "I made sure the chestnut would + win."</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page13" + id="page13"></a>[pg 13]</span> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/13-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/13-1.png" + alt="The horse race." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"That's just it," broke in the owner of the coach; "the + public thought so too, and they've lost their money."</p> + + <p>"Just look at the mob," he continued, "crowding round the + jockey and the owner. 'Gad, I shouldn't care to be hooted like + that. But, of course, <i>they've</i> made their pile on it; + never intended him to win. Just sent him out for an airing. + Pretty bit of roping, wasn't it?" he continued, addressing + <i>Mr. Punch</i>.</p> + + <p>But the Sportsman of Sportsmen only frowned.</p> + + <p>"In the land we come from," he rejoined, "the sport of + racing is pure, and only the most high-minded men take part in + it. Their desire is not to make money, but merely to improve + the breed of British horses. I grieve to find that here the + case is otherwise. Reform the Sport, Sir; reform it, and make + it worthy of Castorian gentlemen."</p> + + <p>His newly-found friend only smiled.</p> + + <p>Then he winked as he hummed to himself the words of a song, + which ran something like this:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Come, sportsmen all, give ear to me, I'll tell you + what occurred,</p> + + <p class="i2">But of course you won't repeat it when + I've told you;</p> + + <p>For with honourable gentlemen I hope that mum's the + word,</p> + + <p class="i2">When a horse you've laid your money on + has sold you.</p> + + <p>I presume you lost your shekels, and you think it + rather low,</p> + + <p class="i2">Since you're none of you as rich as NORTH + or BARING.</p> + + <p>But another time you'll get them back by being 'in + the know,'</p> + + <p class="i2">When a favourite is started for an + airing.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>"That's an odd sort of song," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>.</p> + + <p>"Not so odd as the subject," replied the singer. "But you + have only heard the first verse; wait till you know the + second."</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"'But they didn't tell the public; it's a precious, + jolly shame;'</p> + + <p class="i2">(Such behaviour to the public seems to + shock it)—</p> + + <p>Now if <i>you'd</i> been placed behind the scenes + you wouldn't think the same,</p> + + <p class="i2">But put principles and winnings in your + pocket.</p> + + <p>A gent who owns a stable doesn't always think of + <i>you</i>,</p> + + <p class="i2">And he doesn't seem to fancy + profit-sharing.</p> + + <p>And you really shouldn't curse him when he manages a + 'do.'</p> + + <p class="i2">With a favourite who's only on an + airing."</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Before the singer could proceed any farther, a frightful + hubbub arose. A pale, gasping wretch, rushed past, pursued by a + howling, cursing mob of ruffians. As he fled, he tripped, and + fell, and in a moment they were on the top of him, buffeting, + and beating the very life out of him.</p> + + <p>"That's murder," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>. "Where are the + police?"</p> + + <p>And he was on the point of stepping down, to render + assistance, when his friend laid a hand upon his arm.</p> + + <p>"Oh, that's only a welsher," he said; "he's bolting with + other people's money."</p> + + <p>"Is it the owner of the chestnut?" inquired Father TIME.</p> + + <p>"Bless your heart, no," was the reply. "It's only a + low-class cheat. The owner of the chestnut is—"</p> + + <p>But <i>Mr. Punch</i> had no wish to hear or see more.</p> + + <p>He took TIME's arm, and together they floated away into + space, to land shortly afterwards in another sphere.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>VISIT TO POLLUX.</h2> + + <p>The street in which they had descended was situated in the + heart of a great city. The roar of traffic sounded in their + ears from the larger thoroughfares close by. Most of the houses + were small and mean—a remarkable contrast to one large + building, brilliantly lighted, in front of which a mob was + gathered together. A more ruffianly-looking assemblage it would + have been hard to discover. The rest of the street was filled + with hansoms, the long line of which was constantly being + augmented by fresh arrivals, whose occupants sprang out and + swiftly mounted a flight of steps leading up to the entrance of + the large building mentioned, and passed through swing-doors of + glass, which gave admission to a broad passage. In front of + this house the Sage paused, and addressed his companion.</p> + + <p>"Venerable One," he said, for he had become aware of a + reluctance on the part of the Lord of the Hour-Glass, "have no + fear. We are now, as you know, in the metropolis of Pollux. + This is the country of the πυξ + αγαθος, the home of the + noble boxer; and this," he added, pointing to the glittering + palace, "is the headquarters, I am informed, of the boxer's + art. Let us enter, so that I may show you how the game should + really be played. I like not the crowd without. Within we shall + see something very different."</p> + + <p>So saying, he linked his arm in that of the Paternal One, + and together they ascended the stairs. At the top stood an + official dressed in a dark uniform, his breast adorned with + medals.</p> + + <p>"I beg your pardon, Gentlemen," said the minion to the pair, + "are you Members?"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> vouchsafed no answer. He looked at the man, + who quailed under the eagle glance, and, muttering a hasty + apology, drew back. A door flew open; the Champion of Champions + and his friend passed through it. They found themselves in a + spacious hall. In the centre a square had been roped off. All + round were arranged seats and benches. In the square were four + men, two of them stripped to the waist sitting in chairs in + opposite corners, while the two others were busily engaged in + fanning them with towels. The seats and benches were all + occupied by a very motley throng.</p> + + <p>"Aha," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, as he made his way to the + throne reserved for him, "this is good. I have done a little + bit of fighting myself in my time. My mill with the Tutbury Boy + is still remembered. One hundred and twenty rounds, at the end + of which I dropped him senseless. But that was with the + knuckles. Here they fight with gloves. But of course they fight + now for the mere honour of the thing, I presume."</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/13-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/13-2.png" + alt="A PAIR OF SPECTACLES." /></a>A PAIR OF + SPECTACLES. + </div> + + <p>But here the heroic Muse insists on taking up the + strain:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The Father spake—"O skilled in men and + books,</p> + + <p>Read me this crowd, inspect them, scan their + looks;</p> + + <p>See, from their shining heads electric rays,</p> + + <p>Reflected, sparkle in their barbers' praise.</p> + + <p>Lo, on each bulging front's expansive white</p> + + <p>A single jewel flames with central light;</p> + + <p>To vacant eyes the haughty eye-glass clings,</p> + + <p>Stiff stand their collars, though their ties have + wings.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page14" + id="page14"></a>[pg 14]</span> + + <p>What of their faces? Bloodshot eyes that blink,</p> + + <p>And thick lips, framed for blasphemy and drink.</p> + + <p>Here the grey hair, that should adorn the Sage,</p> + + <p>Serves but to mark a weak, unhonoured age;</p> + + <p>There on the boy pale cheeks proclaim the truth,</p> + + <p>The faded emblems of a wasted youth.</p> + + <p>All, all are loathsome in this motley crew,</p> + + <p>The Peer, the Snob, the Gentile, and the Jew,</p> + + <p>Young men and old, the greybeards and the boys,</p> + + <p>These dull professors of debauch and noise."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <hr class="short" /> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He ceased. The Wise One gazed in silent gloom,</p> + + <p>While oaths and uproar hurtled through the + room—</p> + + <p>"Hi, there, a monkey on the Pollux Pet;"</p> + + <p>"Fifty to forty;" "Blank your eyes, no bet;"</p> + + <p>"A level thousand on the Castor Chick;"</p> + + <p>"Brandy for two, and, curse you, bring it + quick."</p> + + <p>While one who spake to <i>Punch</i> rapped out an + oath—</p> + + <p>"Who cares?" he said, "I stand to win on both.</p> + + <p>Fair play be blowed, that's all a pack of lies,</p> + + <p>Let fools fight fair, while <i>these</i> cut up the + prize.</p> + + <p>Old Cock, you needn't frown; I'm in the know,</p> + + <p>And if you don't like barneys, dash it, go!"</p> + + <p>One blow from <i>Punch</i> had quelled th' audacious + man,</p> + + <p>He raised his hand, when, lo, the fight began.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Time! time!" called one; the cornered ruffians + rose,</p> + + <p>Shook hands, squared up, then swift they rained in + blows.</p> + + <p>Feint follows feint, and whacks on whacks + succeed,</p> + + <p>Struck lips grow puffy, battered eye-brows + bleed.</p> + + <p>From simultaneous counters heads rebound,</p> + + <p>And ruby drops are scattered on the ground.</p> + + <p>Abraded foreheads flushing show the raw,</p> + + <p>And fistic showers clatter on the jaw.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <hr class="short" /> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Now on "the mark" impinge the massive hands,</p> + + <p>Now on the kissing-trap a crasher lands.</p> + + <p>Blood-dripping noses lose their sense of smell,</p> + + <p>And ribs are roasted that a crowd may yell.</p> + + <p>Each round the other's neck the champions cling,</p> + + <p>Then break away, and stagger round the ring.</p> + + <p>Now panting Pollux fails, his fists move slow,</p> + + <p>He trips, the Chicken plants a smashing blow.</p> + + <p>The native "pug" lies spent upon the floor,</p> + + <p>Lies for ten seconds,—and the fight is + o'er.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <hr class="short" /> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thunders of cheering hail th' expected end,</p> + + <p>High in the air ecstatic hats ascend.</p> + + <p>While frenzied peers and joyous bookies drain</p> + + <p>Promiscuous bumpers of the Club champagne.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>But <i>Mr. Punch</i> had seen enough.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/14.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/14.png" + alt="The boxing match." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Do you call this one-round job a fight?" he said, as he + rose to depart. "I call it the work of curs and cowards. Who + can call these fellows fighting-men? They are merely + mop-sticks. Men were ruffianly enough years ago in the country + we have left, but they were men at any rate. Here, they seem to + be merely a pack of bloodthirsty molly-coddles, crossed with + calculating rogues. The mob outside was better than this. But, + thank Heaven, we have nothing like this in London."</p> + + <p>And with that he and Father TIME walked gloomily from the + hall, and found themselves once more in the street.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>"What ho! my trusty Shooting Star," cried <i>Mr. Punch</i>. + Whirr-r-r—</p> + + <p>And in the thousandth part of a second they found themselves + within measurable distance of TOBY's own Planet. And here + <i>the</i> Dog speaks for himself.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page16" + id="page16"></a>[pg 16]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/16.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/16.png" + alt="PUNCHIUS PHOEBUS, THE GREAT UNIVERSAL HYPNOTISER." /> + </a> + + <h3>PUNCHIUS PHOEBUS, THE GREAT UNIVERSAL + HYPNOTISER.</h3>("<i>He who must be Obeyed!</i>")<br /> + A TRANSFORMATION SCENE. + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page19" + id="page19"></a>[pg 19]</span> + + <h2>VISIT TO THE DOG-STAR.</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/19-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/19-1.png" + alt="Visit to the Dog Star." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Take care of the plank, Sir," I said, as my esteemed master + lightly skipped across the gangway, marshalling a well-grown + youth carrying a scythe; "we don't have many visitors here. One + who looked in the other day slipped his foot, fell over, and + we've never seen him since. Listening intently, watch in hand, + we heard a slight thud, and have reason to believe he dropped + on Jupiter. It was useful to us, seeing that, by use of a + well-known formula, we were able to reckon our precise distance + from that planet. For him, I fancy, it must have been + inconvenient."</p> + + <p>"Are you serious, TOBY?" said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, stepping + with added caution.</p> + + <p>"No, Sir, <i>I'm</i> not. This," I said, waving my hand with + graceful and comprehensive gesture around the orb where I am + temporarily located, "<i>this</i> is Sirius."</p> + + <p>"Ah, I see," said <i>Mr. P.</i>, glad to find himself with + his foot on our native heath; "I want to present you to an old + friend, whom, I am afraid, you have sometimes misused. TIME, + this is TOBY, M.P., a humble but faithful member of my + terrestrial suite. I am showing the young fellow round, TOBY, + and we looked in on you, hearing that you had a Parliament that + should serve as a model for the firmament."</p> + + <p>"I am afraid," observed TIME, whittling a piece of stick + with his scythe, "that we may have looked in at a wrong season. + As far as I can judge from a consideration of the temperature, + and a glance round your landscape, we are now at + Midsummer—in the dog days, if I may so put it without + offence. Of course your legislators would not be in Town just + now, sweltering at work that might as well be performed in + winter weather, when, regarded as a place of business or + residence, Town has attractions superior to those of the + country." "Ah, young fellow," I said, perhaps a little sharply, + not relishing his somewhat round-about way of putting things, + "when you are as old as me or my esteemed master, you will not + be so cock-sure of things. Our Parliamentary Session begins on + the threshold of Spring; we stop in Town hard at work, through + the pleasantest months of the year; we toil through Summer + nights, see August out, and, somewhere about the first week in + September, when the days are growing short, the air is chill, + and Autumn gets ready to usher in Winter, we go off to make + holiday."</p> + + <p>"Dear me, dear me!" cried <i>Mr. P.</i>, "how very sad. How + deliberately foolish. We manage things much better than that + down in our tight little Earth. When we take that in turn, you + will find, my good TIME, that we burrow at our legislative work + through the Winter months, getting it done so as to leave us + free to enjoy the country in the prime of Spring, and amid the + wealth of Summer. But come along, TOBY, let's get on to your + House."</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/19-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/19-2.png" + alt="Father Time makes a clean sweep of the police-dogs." /> + </a> + </div> + + <p>"It will be no use going now," said TIME, holding up his + hour-glass; "it is five o'clock; the working day is practically + over, and we shall find these sensible dogs travelling off to + take a turn in the park, or pay a round of visits in search of + the culinary receptacle that cheers, but does not + intoxicate."</p> + + <p>"Wrong again, young Cock-sure," I said; "we shall just find + our house of Commons settling down to the business of the + night. We begin about four o'clock in the afternoon, and peg + away till any hour to-morrow morning that one or two Members + please. It is true we have a rule which enjoins the suspension + of business at midnight; but instead of suspending business we + can (and do) suspend the Rule, and sometimes sit all + night."</p> + + <p>"Ah!" said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, gravely shaking his head, "we + manage things much better than that at Westminster."</p> + + <p>Got my two friends with some difficulty across Palace Yard, + eyed suspiciously by the police-dogs on duty. One concentrated + his attention on <i>Mr. Punch's</i> dorsal peculiarity.</p> + + <p>"We have strict orders from the Sergeant-at-Arms," he said, + "to examine all parcels carried by strangers."</p> + + <p>"That's not a parcel," I said, hurriedly, and taking him on + one side, succinctly explained the personal peculiarity of my + esteemed Master. "Humph!" said the police-dog. "Exactly," I + responded, and he let us pass on, though evidently with + lingering apprehension that he was allowing a valuable clue to + slip out of his hands, as it were.</p> + + <p>"Wait here a moment," I said, "till I get an order for your + admission."</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page20" + id="page20"></a>[pg 20]</span> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/20-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/20-1.png" + alt="Mr. Punch is expelled from the gallery." /></a> + </div> + + <p>Absent only a few minutes; when I got back terrible + commotion; <i>Mr. P.'s</i> friend was in the hands of the + Police; they had attempted to take his scythe from him, and he + had smartly rapped one on the head with his hour-glass.</p> + + <p>"I've carried it a million years," he said, swinging the + scythe with practised hand, till he made a clean sweep of the + police-dogs.</p> + + <p>"Make it a couple of millions, whilst you are at it, young + man," said a sarcastic police-dog.</p> + + <p>With some difficulty calmed him; explained that no one, not + even a Member, was permitted to enter House with a scythe, or + other lethal weapon. Only exception made once a year, when Hon. + Members, moving and seconding Address, are allowed to carry + property-swords, which generally get between their legs. TIME + partially mollified at last, consented to leave scythe behind + chair of door-keeper, where the late TOM COLLINS used to + secrete his gingham-umbrella.</p> + + <p>"It seems to me," he said, "that the public are treated in + this place worse than jackals. Hustled from pillar to post, + suspected of unnamed crimes, grudged every convenience, and + generally regarded as intolerable intruders."</p> + + <p>"Ah," said <i>Mr. P.</i>, "we manage things much better at + Westminster."</p> + + <p>"Order! Order!" cried an angry voice, and <i>Mr. P.</i> and + his companion were within an ace of being trundled out of the + gallery, where strangers are permitted to see and hear whatever + is possible from their position—and it is not much.</p> + + <p>"What are they talking about?" asked TIME, in guarded + whisper, being, by this time, completely cowed.</p> + + <p>"They haven't reached public business yet," I explained. + "Been for last two hours debating a private Bill, providing + that the pump-handle in the village of Plumberry shall be + chained at eight o'clock at night. The Opposition want it done + at nine."</p> + + <p>"Well, I suppose they know all about it," said TIME. + "Probably been down to Plumberry, examined into bearing of + whole question, and formed their opinion accordingly?"</p> + + <p>"Nothing of the sort; some of them don't even know where + Plumberry is—never heard its name before this Pump-handle + business came up. Don't even now wait in House to hear + question, debated by Members with local knowledge. You see only + twenty or thirty Members in their places. But, when bell rings + for division, four hundred will troop in, and their vote will + settle the question whether Plumberry shall be privileged to + pump water as late as nine o'clock, or whether at eight the + handle shall be chained."</p> + + <p>So it turned out: In House of four hundred and seventy-nine + Members Bill was read a second time by majority of + twenty-three. Division occupied twenty minutes, which, with + debate, appropriated two of the most precious hours of the + sitting.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. P.</i> narrowly escaped expulsion, attention being + awkwardly concentrated upon him, owing to the exuberance of his + delight in recollection of how much better these things are + managed at Westminster.</p> + + <p>After this, public business was approached, beginning with + questions. Of these there were a list of eighty, the large + majority on exceedingly trivial circumstances. Nine-tenths of + them could have been answered in a sentence by the Minister + addressed, supposing the Member had dropped him a private note, + or crossed the floor of the House, to speak to him. TIME openly + contemptuous at such a way of doing business, more especially + when, on question which appeared on printed paper having been + answered, half-a-dozen Members sprang up from different parts + of House, and volleyed forth supplementary interrogations. + Explained to him things used to be worse when questions were + propounded <i>viví voce</i>, and at length.</p> + + <p>"Now," I said, not liking <i>Mr. P.'s</i> crowing over us, + "the SPEAKER will not allow the terms of a question to be + recited. They appear on printed paper, and are taken as + read."</p> + + <p>"Then," queried TIME, "what are these Members putting + questions 'arising,' they say, 'out of the answer just given? + They don't spare a syllable, and take up five times as much of + the Sitting as Members who put their questions on the Paper, + and are not allowed to read them. You don't mean to say that + such a transparent evasion of the rule is permitted?"</p> + + <p>"It looks very like it," said <i>Mr. P.</i>; "but it's not + at all the sort of thing that would be permitted in our House + of Commons. We make Rules, and the Speaker sees that they are + obeyed in the spirit, as well as in the letter."</p> + + <p>By the time questions were over, following on the prelude of + private business, the evening was getting on. Members evidently + tired out; had crowded in to vote on the Pump-handle question; + sat in serried rows during the squabbles of question-time; and + as soon as business was actually reached, House swiftly + emptied, leaving about a score of Members. TIME more than ever + distracted. <i>Mr. P.</i> increasingly perky.</p> + + <p>"Ho! ho!" he said, rubbing his hands, "I don't wonder at + this Star going to the Dogs. Stop till you come over to + Westminster, TIME, dear boy, and we'll show you how public + business should be carried on."</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:53%;"> + <a href="images/20-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/20-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>Explain to them that House is now in Committee on a Bill + that had at earlier stages occupied some months of the Session, + practically the greater portion of its working time. Now + Session drawing to a close; agreed on both sides that it is too + late to conclude Bill this Session; will be dropped after + another night or two; Members knowing this, do not think it + worth while to give up more time to Bill. Next Session it will + be brought in again, and if the Government have better luck, + and get earlier stages through in less time, there will be a + chance of it passing.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page21" + id="page21"></a>[pg 21]</span> + + <p>"What!" shrieked TIME, forgetting where he was, "you don't + mean to say that after devoting nearly a whole Session to a + measure, laboriously shaping it up to a certain stage, you + chuck away all your work because the Almanack says it's August? + Why don't you, when you meet again in February, take the Bill + up at the stage you dropped it? Why don't you—"</p> + + <p>Here our friend's observations were brought to a sudden + close. TIME was, as <i>Mr. P.</i> subsequently remarked, + reduced to the status of a half-Timer. Angry cries of "Order! + Order!" broke in on his unpremeditated speech. Two attendants, + approaching him on either flank, seized him, and led him forth + under the personal direction of the Sergeant-at-Arms. <i>Mr. + P.</i>, following his friend, and endeavouring from the top of + the staircase to assure him that, "we manage these things + better at Westminster," was promptly taken into custody, and + led forth beyond the precincts, a combination of circumstances + that interrupted and, indeed, as far as my friends were + concerned, finally closed what was beginning to promise to + prove an agreeable and instructive evening.</p> + + <p><i>Business Done</i>.—<i>Mr. Punch</i> and another + Stranger expelled from the Gallery, and TOBY's narrative + completed.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>VISIT TO VENUS.</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/21.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/21.png" + alt="Visit to Venus." /></a> + </div> + + <p>The two Travellers made their way through space in silence, + but on a sudden Father TIME plucked his conductor by the + sleeve, and spoke.</p> + + <p>"Sir," he said, "I perceive in the distance a wonderful + light, and there is a sound of soft and beautiful music that + attracts me strangely. Shall we approach the light, and listen + more closely to these strains?"</p> + + <p>"Have patience." replied the Sage. "The light and the music + come from the planet Venus. Thither I am directing our course. + In a few moments we shall arrive."</p> + + <p>Even as he spoke the light grew brighter, the music of the + invisible choir swelled to a louder strain, and before the King + of the Hours had time to express his rapture, the pair had + alighted in a scene of veritable enchantment. Fairy-like + structures of crystal, sparkling with all the hues of the + rainbow, rose on every side. Spires and domes of the most + fantastic but graceful design seemed to soar into the clear and + perfect air. All were bathed in a rosy glow, the source of + which was hidden. Spacious walks paved with huge blocks of opal + divided the rows of palaces. Along them grew tall and slender + trees of a curious and delicate foliage. Birds of Paradise, + King Fishers and doves flitted from branch to branch. The + broadest of these avenues ended in a sweeping flight of steps + of alabaster which led to a vast and perfectly proportioned + hall, the roof of which was supported on columns of pure + jewels, diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds.</p> + + <p>A throng of maidens, in classical attire and wearing wreaths + of roses on their heads, made their way along this avenue to + where <i>Mr. Punch</i> and his companion were standing. Their + leader, a fair and lovely girl of seventeen, advanced to the + Wise One and addressed him.</p> + + <p>"Sire," she sang in a low and gracious voice, "Our Queen has + sent me to say that she waits for your coming. She holds her + Court in yonder hall, and thither I am bidden to guide you. Is + it your pleasure to come at once?"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> signified his assent, the maiden took him + by the hand, and beckoning to Father TIME to follow, they + walked slowly towards the Royal Hall and mounted the steps. A + double gate of wrought gold opened as they reached the top, and + passing through it, they found themselves in the Court of Queen + CALLISTA. A marvellous sight met their eyes. The Queen sat on a + raised throne in the midst of a throng of attendants. She was + of surpassing beauty. Her deep-blue eyes were set like jewels + beneath a broad low forehead on which a light crown of pearls + and diamonds rested. Her garments were of a soft gauzy material + that half concealed and half revealed the beautiful lines of + her bust and limbs. In one hand she held a spray of myrtle, the + other rested lovingly on the head of the magnificent hound who + sat beside her, looking trustfully into her face. The great + hall was filled with beautiful women grouped together here and + there, some seated and some standing. They were all talking. + Suddenly the Queen raised her hand and commanded silence. She + then rose and thus addressed the two visitors:—</p> + + <p>"You have come from below to the Realm of Women. Here we + abide as you behold us. Age and decay hold aloof from us, and + we order our lives with wisdom and modesty. Speak, if you have + aught to ask."</p> + + <p>"Pardon me, Madam," said Father TIME, somewhat rashly, "are + we not here on the planet Venus? and have I not somewhere heard + strange tales of what was done by ——?"</p> + + <p>But CALLISTA interrupted him. She smiled a beautiful + smile.</p> + + <p>"Ah, yes," she said, "those stories are of the vanished + past. Now we blush even to think they might once have been + true;" and surely enough the whole charming assemblage became + suffused with the prettiest imaginable blush. "I will speak + plainly with you," continued the Queen; "for plain speech is + best. No men live here. Therefore, we dwell in peace. But we + permit the fairest and best among our number to descend from + time to time to earth, and to dwell there in mortal shapes for + awhile. You may have seen them," she went on, mentioning some + names well known to <i>Mr. Punch</i>. "They are allowed to + marry; but only the wisest and noblest men may approach them. + On earth their will is free, and sometimes, alas, they fall + away from righteousness, and pass through bitter + tribulation."</p> + + <p>"Yes," said the Fleet Street Sage, "We call it the Divorce + Court—your Majesty will pardon the rough speech of an old + man—and, somehow, we don't seem able to get on without + it. But here, of course, you have no such institution?"</p> + + <p>"No," replied the Queen. "There once was such a court among + us, hundreds of years ago, ere we had banished the men from our + midst. Now, however, we use the building in which petitions + used to be heard as our chief College. Come hither, ZOE," she + proceeded, addressing a sweet little girl of about fifteen. + "Tell this wise gentleman your solution of that pretty question + relating to the concomitants of a system of ternary + quadrics."</p> + + <p>Without a moment's hesitation, ZOE stated the question, and, + what is more, solved it with absolute correctness.</p> + + <p>"Marvellous!" said <i>Mr. Punch</i>. "I congratulate + you."</p> + + <p>"CYNTHIA," said the Queen, beckoning with her rosy fingers + to another maiden, "will you recite to me your Pindaric Ode on + the late foot-race?"</p> + + <p>CYNTHIA at once complied, and <i>Mr. Punch</i> listened in + amazement to the resounding lines of an ode worthy of the great + Greek. <span class="pagenum"><a name="page22" + id="page22"></a>[pg 22]</span> "Nor do we confine ourselves + to such accomplishments," the Queen went on. "We all sew + perfectly, our knitting is universally admired, and our + classes on the Management of Domestic Servants, or the true + theory of Making Both Ends Meet are always largely attended. + Moreover, we do not neglect the body. Some play at ball, + some even form elevens for cricket, others fence or play + your Scotch game, or even lawn-tennis, and all dance + gracefully. See!" she cried, clapping her hands, "they shall + show you."</p> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/22.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/22.png" + alt="The Court of Queen Callista." /></a> + </div> + + <p>At this signal delicious music burst forth in a strange + measure, swaying, rhythmical, and delightful. The maidens + enlaced one another, and moved across the floor in perfect + time. Their bodies seemed to float rather than tread the + ground, as they passed the spell-bound visitors. The dance + ceased as suddenly as it began.</p> + + <p>"Your Majesty" said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, "your country is, + indeed, highly blessed, and your subjects are marvellously + accomplished. You dwell here without men, without chaperons, + and you are lovely," he added, with emotion, "beyond the power + of words to express. Would that your example could be followed + upon earth!"</p> + + <p>And with this, he and the Father kissed the young Queen's + hand, and left the royal presence chamber.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page23" + id="page23"></a>[pg 23]</span> + + <h2>VISIT TO SERIOCOMIX.</h2> + + <p>"And so," said TIME, as he carefully arranged his forelock + before a mirror in the corridor, in reply to a communication + recently made to him by <i>Mr. Punch en route</i>, "and so + we're to make a regular rollicking night of it'? You insist on + taking me into every Music Hall in Seriocomix, hey, you young + dog, you! Well, well, Sir, I'm not so young as I used to + be—but I'm as fond of a bit of good honest wholesome fun + as ever I was. So lead on!"</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/23-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/23-1.png" + alt="The music hall of Seriocomix." /></a> + </div> + + <p>They were in Seriocomix—a new and brilliant planet + recently discovered by <i>Mr. Punch</i>—by the aid of + WELLER's patent double-million gas-magnifying microscope (extra + power). This star, as all astronomers are by this time aware, + is a howling waste of extraordinary density, and occupied + entirely by Music Halls, which TIME, for some inexplicable + reason, was desirous of visiting in <i>Mr. Punch's</i> + company.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i>, though considerably TIME's junior, almost + envied his companion's boyish eagerness for pleasure; he was so + evidently unfamiliar with Music Halls.</p> + + <p>"If you are expecting to be vastly amused, Sir," <i>Mr. + Punch</i> ventured to hint, "I am afraid you may be just a + trifle disappointed."</p> + + <p>"Disappointed?" said TIME; "not a bit of it, Sir; not a bit + of it! Isn't a Music Hall a place of entertainment? You've + plenty of them where <i>you</i> come from, haven't you? They + wouldn't be filled night after night, as I'm given to + understand they are, if they didn't succeed in entertaining, + <i>would</i> they, now?"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> felt a natural reluctance to betray the + weak points of any terrestrial institution.</p> + + <p>"Oh, <i>our</i> Music Halls? they are perfection, of + course," he said. "The entertainments there are distinguished + by humour of the most refined and intellectual order. It only + struck me that they mayn't be quite the same <i>here</i>, you + know, that's all."</p> + + <p>"We shall see, Sir, we shall see," said TIME. "I don't think + I'm particularly difficult to amuse." By this time they had + entered the dazzling hall, and, reclining on sumptuous seats, + were prepared to bestow their best attention upon the + proceedings. A stout man with a fair wig, a dyed moustache and + a blue chin, occupied the stage. He was engaged in representing + a Member of the Seriocomican aristocracy with irresistible + powers of social fascination, and he wore a loose-caped cloak + over garments of closely-fitting black, which opened in front + to display a mass of crumpled white, amidst which scintillated + an enormous jewel. In his hand he held a curious black disc, + with which he beat time to a ditty, of which <i>Mr. Punch</i> + only succeeded in catching the following refrain:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Oh, I 'ave sech a w'y with the loydies! All the + dorlins upon me are gorn!</p> + + <p>For they soy—'Yn't he noice! you can tell by + his vice,</p> + + <p>He's a toff and a gentleman born!'"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>And here the singer suddenly caused the black disc to expand + with a faint report to a cylindrical form of head-dress, which + he placed upon one side of his head, amidst thunders of + approval.</p> + + <p>But TIME seemed rather depressed than exhilarated by this + performance.</p> + + <p>"He ought to be kicked off the stage," he muttered. "I'd do + it myself if I was younger!"</p> + + <p>"You would make a mistake," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>; "he is + just the person that a Music Hall audience idolises as their + highest ideal of a man and gentleman—in Seriocomix."</p> + + <p>"At least," said TIME, "you wouldn't stand such an + outrageous cad as that in any of <i>your</i> Music Halls, I + hope?"</p> + + <p>A deeper tinge stole into <i>Mr. Punch's</i> already + highly-coloured countenance. "Certainly not," he replied, with + perhaps the slightest suspicion of a gulp. "Our 'Lion Comiques' + are without exception, persons of culture and education, and, + if they sing of love at all, it is only to treat the subject in + a chaste and chivalrous spirit. They are worthy examples to all + young people who are privileged to listen to their + teachings."</p> + + <p>"I wish you could send one or two out to Seriocomix, then, + as missionaries," said TIME.</p> + + <p>"I wish we could send them <i>all</i>," rejoined <i>Mr. + Punch</i>, feelingly, and they went on to another Music Hall. + Here TIME had no sooner perceived the artist who was upon the + stage than he exclaimed indignantly, "Disgraceful, Sir. This + man is in no condition to entertain a respectable + audience—he is <i>intoxicated</i>, Sir—look at his + <i>tie</i>!"</p> + + <p>"I think not," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, after observing him + attentively through his opera-glass; "he merely affects to be + so because the point and humour of the song depend on it. But + he has evidently forced himself to make a close study of the + symptoms, or he could hardly have produced so marvellous an + imitation. Art does demand these sacrifices. You will observe + that he represents another Music-Hall ideal—the hero who + can absorb the largest known quantity of ardent spirits, and + whose prowess has earned for him the proud title of the Boozer + King."</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/23-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/23-2.png" + alt="A remarkably pretty young girl tripped daintily on to the platform." /> + </a> + </div> + + <p>It was a spirited chorus, and the accomplished vocalist + reeled in quite a natural manner as he chanted:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"So every pub I enter, boys,</p> + + <p>With welcome the room will ring;</p> + + <p>Make room for him, there, in the centre, boys!</p> + + <p>For he is the Boozer King!</p> + + <p>Yes, give him a seat in the centre, boys.</p> + + <p>Three cheers for our Boozer King!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>But TIME's worn features exhibited nothing but the strongest + disgust.</p> + + <p>"Is it possible," he exclaimed, "that this sort of thing can + be considered amusing anywhere!"</p> + + <p>"It is considered extremely facetious," said <i>Mr. + Punch</i>—"in Seriocomix."</p> + + <p>"What would they think of such a—such an apotheosis of + degradation in one of your Music Halls at home, eh?" demanded + TIME.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page24" + id="page24"></a>[pg 24]</span> + + <p>Privately, <i>Mr. Punch</i> was of opinion that it would not + be at all unpopular. However, he was not going to admit + this:—</p> + + <p>"It would be hissed off the stage," he said, courageously. + "The fact is, that our Eccentric Vocalists have always shrunk + from the responsibility of presenting a national vice under an + attractive light, and so such exhibitions are absolutely + unknown among us."</p> + + <p>"I respect them for their scruples," said TIME; "they have + their reward in a clear conscience," "No doubt," said <i>Mr. + Punch</i>. "Shall we go on?" And as TIME had had enough of the + Boozer King, they went on, and entered the next hall, just as a + remarkably pretty young girl, with an innocent rosebud mouth + and saucy bright eyes like a bird's, tripped daintily on to the + platform.</p> + + <p>"Come," said TIME, with more approval than he had yet shown, + "this is better—<i>much</i> better. We need feel no shame + is listening to <i>this</i> young lady, at all events. What is + she going to give us? Some tender little love-ditty, I'll be + bound?"</p> + + <p>She sang of love, certainly, though she treated the subject + from rather an advanced point of view, and this was the song + she sang:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"True love—you tyke the tip from me—'s + all blooming tommy-rot!</p> + + <p>And the only test we go by is—'ow much a man + has got?</p> + + <p>So none of you need now despair a girlish 'art to + mash,—</p> + + <p>So long as you're provided with the necessairy + cash!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>And the chorus was:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"You may be an 'owling cad;</p> + + <p>Or be gowing to the bad;</p> + + <p>Or a hoary centenarian, or empty-headed lad;</p> + + <p>Or the merest trifle mad—</p> + + <p>If there's rhino to be had,</p> + + <p>Why, a modern girl will tyke you—yes, and only + be too glad!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>As she carolled out this charming ditty in her thin high + voice, TIME positively shivered in his stall, "Are <i>all</i> + the girls like that in Seriocomix?" he moaned. "I trust + not."</p> + + <p>"It seems the fashion to assume so here, at any rate," said + <i>Mr. Punch</i>, not without a hazy recollection of having + heard very similar sentiments in Music Halls much nearer home + than Seriocomix. "The young woman is probably an authority on + the subject. Are you off already?"</p> + + <p>"Yes," said TIME, as he made for the exit. "I think she is + going to sing again presently. Come along!"</p> + + <p>At the next Music Hall they were just in time to hear the + announcement of a new Patriotic Song, and old TIME, who had in + his day seen great and noble deeds accomplished by men who + loved and were proud of their Fatherland, was disposed to + congratulate both himself and the audience on the choice of + topic.</p> + + <p>Only, as the song went on, he seemed dissatisfied somehow, + as if he had expected some loftier and more exalted strain. And + yet it was a high-spirited song, too, and told the + Seriocomicans what fine fellows they were, and how naturally + superior to the inhabitants of all other planets, while the + chorus ran as follows:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Yes, we never stand a foreigner's dictation!</p> + + <p class="i2">No matter if we're wrong or if we're + right;</p> + + <p>We're a breed of good old bulldogs as a nation,</p> + + <p class="i2">And we never stop to bark before we + bite!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>And then the singer, a fat-necked man, in a kind of military + uniform, drew a sword and struck an attitude, amidst red fire, + which aroused vociferous enthusiasm.</p> + + <p>TIME seemed to be getting restless again, so they moved on + once. more, and presently entered a hall where they found a + stout lady with a powdered face and extremely short skirts, + about to sing a pathetic song, which had been expressly written + to suit her talents.</p> + + <p>She began in a quavering treble that was instinct with + intense feeling:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Under the dysies to rest I have lyed him;</p> + + <p>My little cock-sparrer so fythful and tyme!</p> + + <p>And the duckweed he loved so is blooming besoide + him,</p> + + <p>But I clean out his cyge every d'y just the + syme!</p> + + <p>For it brings him before me so sorcy and + sproightly,</p> + + <p>As with seed and fresh water his glorsis I fill:</p> + + <p>Though the poor little tyle which he waggled so + lytely</p> + + <p>Loys under the dysies all stiffened and still!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>—And then, to a subdued <i>obbligato</i> upon a + bird-whistle, came the touching refrain:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Yes, I hear him singing 'Tweet,' so melodious and + sweet!</p> + + <p>Till his shadder comes and flits about the room. + 'Tweet-tweet-tweet!'</p> + + <p>All my sorrer I forget. For I have the forncy + yet,</p> + + <p>That he twitters while he's loyin' in his + tomb—'Tweet-tweet!'</p> + + <p>Yes, he twitters to me softly from his tomb!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> observed his elder attentively during this + plaintive ditty, but there was no discernible moisture in + TIME's hard old eyes, though among the rest of the audience + noses were being freely blown.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:28%;"> + <a href="images/24.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/24.png" + alt="Mastodon Mirth-moving Mome." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Well," he said, "it may be very touching and even + elevating, for anything I know—but it's not my notion of + cheerful entertainment. I'm off!"</p> + + <p>"I should like," said TIME, rather wistfully, as they + proceeded to visit yet another establishment, "yes, I + <i>should</i> like to hear something <i>comic</i> before the + evening is over."</p> + + <p>"Now is your opportunity, then," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, + taking his seat and inspecting the programme, "for I observe + that the gentleman who is to appear next is described as a + 'Mastodon Mirth-moving Mome.'"</p> + + <p>"And does that mean that he is funny?" inquired TIME, + hopefully.</p> + + <p>"If it doesn't, I don't know what it <i>does</i> mean," + replied <i>Mr. Punch</i>, as the Mastodon entered.</p> + + <p>His mere appearance was calculated to provoke—and did + provoke—roars of laughter, though TIME only gazed the + more sadly at him. He had coarse black hair falling about his + ears, a white face, and a crimson nose; he wore a suit of dingy + plaid, a battered hat, and long-fingered thread gloves. And he + sang, very slowly and dolefully, this side-splitting + ballad:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"We met at the corner, Marire and me.</p> + + <p class="i2">Quite permiscuous! Who'd ha' thought of + it?</p> + + <p>She took and invited me 'ome to tea;</p> + + <p class="i2">Quite permiscuous! Who'd ha' thought of + it?</p> + + <p>I sat in the parler along with her,</p> + + <p>Tucking into the eggs and the bread and + but-tèr,—</p> + + <p>When in come her Par with the kitching po-kèr!</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Quite</i> permiscuous! <i>Who'd</i> + ha' thought of it?"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>There was a chorus, of course:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Quite permiscuous! Who'd ha' thought of it?</p> + + <p class="i2">Who can guess what's going to be!</p> + + <p>Whatever you fancy'll fall far short of it.</p> + + <p class="i2">That's the way things 'appen with + me!"</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page25" + id="page25"></a>[pg 25]</span> + + <p>It seemed that this was the first occasion on which the + audience had had the privilege of hearing this chaste and + simple production, and nothing could exceed their frantic + delight—the song was rapturously re-demanded again and + again. Tears stood in TIME's eyes, but they were not the tears + of excessive mirth; it was almost incredible—but the + "Mastodon Mome" had only succeeded in rendering his depression + more acute.</p> + + <p>"A melancholy performance that," he said, shaking his head, + "a sorry piece of vulgar buffoonery, Sir!"</p> + + <p>"Aren't you rather severe, Sir?" remonstrated <i>Mr. + Punch</i>; "the song is an immense hit—it has, as they + say on this planet, 'knocked them;' from henceforth that + vocalist's fortune is made; he will receive the income of a + Cabinet Minister, and his fame will spread from planet to + planet. Why, to-morrow, Sir, that commonplace phrase, '<i>Quite + permiscuous! Who'd ha' thought of it</i>?' will be upon the + lips of every inhabitant; it will receive brevet-rank as a + witticism of the first order, it will enrich the language, and + enjoy an immortality, which will endure—ah, till the + introduction of a newer catchword! I assure you the most + successful book—the wittiest comedy, the divinest poem, + have never won for their authors the immediate and sensational + reputation which this singer has obtained at a bound with a few + doggerel verses and an ungrammatical refrain. Isn't there + genius in <i>that</i>, Sir?"</p> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:90%;"> + <a href="images/25.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/25.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Ah!" said TIME, "I'm old-fashioned, I daresay. I'm no + longer in the movement. I might have been amused once by the + story of a clandestine tea-party and an outraged parent with a + poker; I don't know. All I <i>do</i> know is, that I find it + rather dreary at present. We'll drop in at just one or two more + places, Sir, and then go quietly home to bed, eh?" They entered + a few more Music Halls, and found the entertainment at each + pretty much alike; now and then, instead of songs about + mothers-in-law, domestic disagreements, and current scandals, + they were entertained by the spectacle of acrobats going + through horrible contortions, or women and little children + performing feats high up aloft to the imminent peril of life + and limb.</p> + + <p>"With <i>us</i>," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>, complacently, + "there is a net stretched below the performers."</p> + + <p>"An excellent arrangement," said TIME; "and I suppose, if + they <i>did</i> happen to fall—"</p> + + <p>"The spectators underneath would be to some extent + protected," said <i>Mr. Punch</i>.</p> + + <p>Then there were ballets, so glittering and gorgeous and + interminable, that poor old TIME dropped asleep more than once, + in spite of the din of the orchestra. At last, although several + other places remained to be visited, he broke down altogether. + "To tell you the truth," he said, "I've had about enough of it. + At my age, Sir, the pursuit of this sort of amusement is rather + hard work. I'll do no more Music Halls on this planet. But I + tell you what I <i>will</i> do. After all this I want a little + rational amusement. I want to be cheered up. Now when will you + take me round <i>your</i> Music Halls, eh? Any evening will + suit me—shall we say Boxing Night?"</p> + + <p>"<i>Not if I know it!</i>" was <i>Mr. Punch's</i> internal + reflection—but all he said was, "'Boxing Night?' let me + see, I'm going <i>somewhere</i> on Boxing Night, I know. Well, + I'll look up my engagements when I get home, and drop you a + line."</p> + + <p>"Do," said TIME—"mind you don't forget. I am sure we + shall have capital fun."</p> + + <p>"Oh, capital," replied <i>Mr. Punch</i>, + hurriedly—"capital—but now for (excuse the paradox) + the Land of the Sea."</p> + + <p>And so again they started. But <i>Mr. Punch's</i> + presentiment will turn out to be quite correct. He <i>will</i> + be unfortunately engaged on Boxing Night, and so his tour of + the terrestrial Music Halls with TIME will be postponed <i>sine + die</i>.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page26" + id="page26"></a>[pg 26]</span> + + <h2>VISIT TO NEPTUNE.</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:70%;"> + <a href="images/26-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/26-1.png" + alt="Badgering the engineers on Neptune." /></a> + </div> + + <p>In a very short time the two august travellers found + themselves in Neptune. To their surprise they learned that the + planet consisted entirely of land. They were met by one of the + inhabitants in full naval uniform, who heartily greeted them, + promising to show them everything his country contained.</p> + + <p>"The only thing that must for the present be unexhibited is + the sea," he concluded. "Truth to speak, we have lost sight of + it, and the disappearance has caused considerable + inconvenience."</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> condoled with the son of Neptune, and asked + what were the chief amusements in the planet.</p> + + <p>"Well, badgering the Engineers is considered excellent + sport—especially just now when their services are not + absolutely required. We snub them and underpay them, we refuse + them the rank due to them, and lead them a generally happy + life! Nothing of that sort of thing down below, I suppose?"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> at the moment this question was put was + probably thinking of something else—at any rate he gave + no answer.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/26-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/26-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>"But this is about the best thing we have here," continued + the Resident, pointing to a scene recalling the traditional + pictures of Greenwich Fair, "the Royal Naval Exhibition. You + see we have pictures and models and fireworks. Everything + connected with the Navy inclusive of ladies' foot-ball."</p> + + <p>"Ladies' foot-ball," echoed <i>Mr. Punch</i>, "why what has + that to do with matters nautical?"</p> + + <p>"Pardon me, <i>Mr. Punch</i>," returned the Resident in a + tone of impatience, "but to-day you are certainly dense. + Ladies' foot-ball is entirely nautical. Are not the ladies, as + they play it, quite at sea?"</p> + + <p>The Sage of Fleet Street bowed, and admitted that second + thoughts were best.</p> + + <p>"And now you must really excuse me," continued the Resident, + "for it is my duty, as a director of the Royal Naval Exhibition + to start the donkey races. I suppose you have had nothing like + our Exhibition down below?"</p> + + <p>"Nothing," returned the Sage.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/26-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/26-3.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>"So I thought," was the reply. "If you have time, you can + call upon the Admiral Survival of the Fittest."</p> + + <p>"Gentlemen," said that illustrious official, after they had + entered his bureau, "it is usual to salute me by tugging at + your forelocks and scraping the deck with your right feet. + While you perform this operation, you will notice that I will + hitch up my trousers in true nautical style."</p> + + <p>"Oh, certainly," returned <i>Mr. Punch</i>, "Delighted! But, + Admiral, isn't that sort of thing a little old-fashioned?"</p> + + <p>"And what of that, Sir? In spite of everything <i>we</i> + still have hearts of oak. We have <i>not</i> changed since the + time of NELSON and Trafalgar. We can still run up the rigging + (there isn't any but that is an unimportant detail) like + kittens, and reef a sail (there's not one left, but what does + <i>that</i> matter?) in a Nor-Wester as our ancestors did + before us. And if you don't believe me, go to any public dinner + when response is being made for the Navy."</p> + + <p>"But if the ships have changed, would it not be better if + the crews had undergone an appropriate transformation?"</p> + + <p>"We don't think so. But, there, it's no use palavering. Some + day the matter will be put to the test?"</p> + + <p>"By a war?"</p> + + <p>"No; by the Fleet starting for a cruise in calm weather. + Some say we should all go to the bottom. But I am talking of + the Planet Neptune. On your little Earth, I suppose, things are + <i>very</i> different?"</p> + + <p>"Very," replied <i>Mr. Punch</i>. "<i>We</i> have the + Admiralty!"</p> + + <p>And considering this an appropriate moment for departure, + the Sage and his Venerable Companion floated amongst the + stars.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page27" + id="page27"></a>[pg 27]</span> + + <h2>AMONG THE DRAMATIC AND OPERATIC STARS.</h2> + + <div class="figure" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/27-1.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-1.png" + alt="AIRY FAIRY LILIAN." /></a> + <a href="images/27-2.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-2.png" + alt="KING ARTHUR." /></a> + <a href="images/27-3.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-3.png" + alt="THE ONLY ADELINA." /></a><br /> + + <table summary="captions" + width="100%"> + <tr> + <td width="30%">AIRY FAIRY LILIAN.</td> + + <td width="30%">KING ARTHUR.</td> + + <td width="30%">THE ONLY ADELINA.</td> + </tr> + </table><a href="images/27-4.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-4.png" + alt="OUR ELLEN." /></a> + <a href="images/27-5.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-5.png" + alt="OUR HENRY." /></a> + <a href="images/27-6.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-6.png" + alt="THE GRASSHOPERATIC STAR." /></a><br /> + + <table summary="captions" + width="100%"> + <tr> + <td width="30%">OUR ELLEN.</td> + + <td width="30%">OUR HENRY.</td> + + <td width="30%">THE GRASSHOPERATIC STAR.</td> + </tr> + </table><a href="images/27-7.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-7.png" + alt="THE SOCIETY CLOWN." /></a> + <a href="images/27-8.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-8.png" + alt="'O.K.'" /></a> + <a href="images/27-9.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/27-9.png" + alt="OUR JOHNNIE." /></a><br /> + + <table summary="captions" + width="100%"> + <tr> + <td width="30%">THE SOCIETY CLOWN.</td> + + <td width="30%">"O.K."</td> + + <td width="30%">OUR JOHNNIE.</td> + </tr> + </table> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page28" + id="page28"></a>[pg 28]</span> + + <h2>ARTISTIC STARS.</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/28-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/28-1.png" + alt="Artistic Stars." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"It's wonderful!" exclaimed TIME. "We haven't got anything + like this on Earth."</p> + + <p>"Plenty more where they come from," said his Guide + Philosopher and Friend; "but now just give me a lock of your + hair, and I'll stand you a fly through the artistic + quarter."</p> + + <p>And Mr. PUNCH, like Beauty, "drawing him with a single + hair," carried the Ancient Wanderer along with him, past + galaxies of talent, musical, dramatic, and operatic, refusing + to stop and gratify the old Gentleman's pardonable + curiosity.</p> + + <p>"I know I've got Time for it all," quoth the flying Sage, + "but I haven't space, that's where the difficulty is. As for + Literary Stars, from TENNYSON and SWINBURNE, to LANG, + STEVENSON, BLACK, BESANT, and our excellent friend, Miss + BRADDON, with other novelists too numerous to mention, we must + leave our cards on them, pay a flying visit, and just skirt the + artistic quarter."</p> + + <p>"There's the President!" exclaimed Old TIME.</p> + + <p>"Ah! everyone knows <i>him</i>," said <i>Mr. + Punch</i>—"artist and orator, and ever a Grand Young Man, + the flower of the Royal Academy."</p> + + <p>"Sir JOHN, too," cried TIME.</p> + + <p>"As fresh as his own paint is our MILLAIS," returned <i>Mr. + Punch</i>. "But 'on we goes again,' as the showman said, and + you can pick out for yourself the + Artist-Operatic-Composer-Painter-Etcher-Fellow-of-All-Souls, + and master of a variety of other accomplishments, yclept HUBERT + HERKOMER; then the gay and gallant FILDES, the chiseler BOEHME, + the big PETTIE, the Flying, not the Soaring, Dutchman, TADEMA, + the always-purchased BOUGHT'UN, the gay dog POYNTER, Cavalier + Sir JOHN GILBERT, and the chivalric DON CALDERON! There's a + galaxy for you, my boy! Can you touch these on Earth?"</p> + + <p>"Well," said TIME, slowly scratching the tip of his nose, "I + fancy I've heard of 'all the talents' before. Besides these, + there are a few more who are celebrated in black and + white—"</p> + + <p>"Rather!" cried <i>Mr. Punch</i>, enthusiastically. "My own + dear boys, with JOHN TENNIEL at their head. But they're all so + busy just now that I couldn't take up their time."</p> + + <p>"But you're taking <i>me</i> up," observed the aged T., + slily.</p> + + <p>"Quite so," returned his guide—who if, <i>per + impossibile</i>, he ever <i>could</i> be old, would be + "<i>the</i> aged P.,"—and then giving another tug at his + companion's forelock, he cried, "On we goes again! We'll be + invisible for awhile, and I'll show you our 'ARRY in the + clouds. You remember IXION in Heaven, or as 'ARRY would call + him, IXION in 'Eaven. Now see 'ARRY dreamin' o' Goddesses. Here + we go Up! Up! Up!"</p> + + <p>And what happened is told by 'ARRY in the following + letter.</p> + + <div class="figure" + style="width:99%;"> + <a href="images/28-2.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/28-2.png" + alt="'PHYLLIS IS MY ONLY JOY.'" /></a> + <a href="images/28-3.png"><img width="30%" + src="images/28-3.png" + alt="QUEEN OF SONG." /></a> + <a href="images/28-4.png"><img width="24%" + src="images/28-4.png" + alt="THE JERSEY LILY." /></a><br /> + + <table summary="captions" + width="90%"> + <tr> + <td width="39%">"PHYLLIS IS MY ONLY JOY."</td> + + <td width="37%">QUEEN OF SONG.</td> + + <td width="24%">THE JERSEY LILY.</td> + </tr> + </table> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page29" + id="page29"></a>[pg 29]</span> + + <h2>'ARRY'S VISIT TO THE MOON.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Dear CHARLIE,—I've bin on the scoop, and no + error this time, my dear boy!</p> + + <p>I must tell yer my rounds; it's a barney I know you + are bound to enjoy.</p> + + <p>Talk of <i>Zadkiel's Halmanack</i>, CHARLIE, JOHN + KEATS, or the <i>Man in the Moon</i>—</p> + + <p>Yah! I've cut all <i>their</i> records as clean as a + comet would lick a balloon.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>'ARRY ain't no Astronomer, leastways I ain't never + made it my mark</p> + + <p>To go nap on star-gazing; I've mostly got other good + biz arter dark.</p> + + <p>But when <i>Mister Punch</i> give me the tip 'ow + he'd take poor old TIME on the fly,</p> + + <p>Wy I tumbled to it like a shot; 'ARRY's bound to be + in it, sez I.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So I took on the Lockyers and Procters, and mugged + up the planets and stars.</p> + + <p>With their gods and their goddesses, likeways their + thunderbolts, tridents and cars.</p> + + <p>I jogged on with old Jupiter, CHARLIE, and gave + young Apoller a turn,</p> + + <p>While as to DIANNER!—but there, that is jest + wot you're going to learn.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It wos dry and a little bit dazing, this cram, and + you won't think it's odd</p> + + <p>If yours truly got doosedly drowsy. In fact I wos + napped on the nod,</p> + + <p>But the way I got woke wos a wunner. Oh! CHARLIE, my + precious old pal,</p> + + <p>If you'd know wot's fair yum-yum, 'ook on to a + genuine celestial gal.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"<i>Smack!</i>" "Hillo!" sez I, starting sudden, + "where ham I, and wot's this 'ere game?"</p> + + <p>Then a pair o' blue eyes looked in mine with a + lime-lighty sort of a flame,</p> + + <p>As made me feel moony immediate. "Great Pompey," + thinks I, "here's a spree!</p> + + <p>It's DIANNER by all that is proper, and as for + Enjimmyun—that's <i>Me</i>!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/29-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/29-1.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For I see a young person in—well, I ain't much + up in classical togs,</p> + + <p>But she called it a "chlamys," I think. She'd a bow, + and a couple of dogs,</p> + + <p>"Rayther forward and sportive young party," thinks + I, Sandown-Parky in style;</p> + + <p>But pooty, and larky no doubt, so I tips her a wink + and a smile.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"All right, Miss DIANNER," sez I. "You 'ave won + 'em—the gloves—and no kid.</p> + + <p>Wot size, Miss, and 'ow many buttons?" But she never + lowered a lid,</p> + + <p>And the red on her cheeks warn't no blush but a + reglar indignant flare-up,</p> + + <p>Whilst the look from her proud pair of lamps 'it as + 'ard and as straight as a Krupp.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Brought me sharp to my bearings, I tell yer. "Young + mortal," she sez, "it is plain</p> + + <p>An Enjimmyun is not to be found in the purlieus of + Chancery Lane.</p> + + <p>And that Primrose 'Ill isn't a Latmos. The things + you call gloves I don't wear,</p> + + <p>Only buskins. But don't you be rude, or the fate of + Actæon you'll share."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I wosn't quite fly to her patter, but "mortal" might + jest 'ave bin "cub,"</p> + + <p>From the high-perlite way she pernounced it, and + plainly DIANNER meant "snub."</p> + + <p>Struck me moony, her manner, did CHARLIE, she + hypnertised me with her looks,</p> + + <p>And the next thing I knowed I was padding the 'oof + in a region of spooks.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Spooks, is bogies and ghostesses, CHARLIE, according + to latter-day chat,—</p> + + <p>And the place where DIANNER conveyed, me <i>was</i> + spooky, and spectral at that.</p> + + <p>"Where <i>are</i> we, Miss, if I <i>may</i> arsk?" I + sez, orfully 'umbl for me.</p> + + <p>Then she turns 'er two lamps on me sparkling. "Of + course we're in Limbo," sez she.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Didn't quite like the lay on it, CHARLIE, for Limbo + sounds precious like quod:</p> + + <p>But <i>she</i> meant Lunar Limbo, dear boy, sort o' + store-room, where everythink odd,</p> + + <p>Out of date, foolish, faddy, and sech like, is kept + like old curio stock.</p> + + <p>(Ef yer want to know more about Limbo, read Mr. + POPE's <i>Rape of the Lock</i>.)</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"So this 'ere is the Moon, Miss!" sez I. "Where's + the Man there's sech talk on downstairs?"</p> + + <p>She looked at me 'orty. Thinks I, "You're a 'ot 'un + to give yourself hairs.</p> + + <p>I may level you down a bit later: The Man in the + Moon, Miss," I adds.</p> + + <p>Sez she, "We don't 'ave Men up here; they are most + of them tyrants or cads!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Oh," sez I, "on the MONA CAIRD lay, eh, my lady?" + Jest then, mate, I looks</p> + + <p>And sees male-looking things by the dozen: but then + they turned out to be spooks.</p> + + <p>There was TOLSTOI the Rooshian romancer, a + grim-looking son of a gun,</p> + + <p>Welting into young Cupid like scissors, and + wallopping Hymen like fun.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:33%;"> + <a href="images/29-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/29-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Old Hymen looked 'orrified rayther; but as for young + Arrers-and-'Arts,</p> + + <p><i>He</i> turned up his nose at the old 'un, whilst + all the gay donas and tarts,</p> + + <p>Not to mention the matronly mivvies, were arter the + boy with the bow,</p> + + <p>Plainly looking on TOLSTOI and IBSEN as crackpots, + and not in the know.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Queer paper, my dear Miss DIANNER," sez I, "wot do + <i>you</i> think?" Sez she,</p> + + <p>"A mere Vision of Vanities, mortal, of no speshal + interest to me.</p> + + <p><i>I</i> am not the keeper of Limbo, although it is + found in my sphere.</p> + + <p>Everything that's absurd and unnatural claims a + clear right to come <i>here</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"See, the latest Art-Hobbies are ambling about with + their 'eads in the air,</p> + + <p>And their riders are tilting like true toothpick + paladins. SMUDGE over there</p> + + <p>Makes a bee-line for SCRATCH in this corner, whilst + MUCK and the Mawkish at odds,</p> + + <p>Clash wildly, and Naturalism pink Sentiment + painfully prods."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then I twigged Penny WHISTLER's white plume, and the + haddypose HOSCAR upreared,</p> + + <p>His big hairy horryflame, CHARLIE, whilst + Phillistines looked on and jeered.</p> + + <p>I see Nature, as Narstiness, ramping at wot + Nambypamby dubbed Nice,</p> + + <p>And Twoddle parading as Virtue, and Silliness + playing at Vice.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Here was pooty girls Primrosing madly, and spiling + their tempers a lump,</p> + + <p>By telling absurd taradiddles for some big political + pump;</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page30" + id="page30"></a>[pg 30]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/30.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/30.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page31" + id="page31"></a>[pg 31]</span> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And there wos 'ard-mouthed middle-aged 'uns a + shaking the Socherlist flag,</p> + + <p>And a ramping like tiger-cats tipsy around a + rediklus red rag.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/31-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/31-1.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There wos patriots playing the clown, there was + magistrates playing the fool;</p> + + <p>There wos jugginses teaching the trombone to kids at + a bloomin' Board School.</p> + + <p>"This is Free Hedgercation in Shindy," sez I. + "They're as mad as March hares,</p> + + <p>All these Limboites, dear Miss DIANNER. We do it + <i>much</i> better downstairs!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>She smiled kinder scoffish, I fancied, and give 'er + white shoulders a hunch.</p> + + <p>Says she; "I've no comments to make. It's along of + my friend <i>Mr. Punch</i></p> + + <p>Whom the whole Solar System obeys, and the Court of + Olympus respects,</p> + + <p>That I wait on you 'ere, Mister ARRY. Pray what + would you like to see next?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Well," sez I, with a glance at her gaiters, "I've + heard you're a whale, Miss, at Sport.</p> + + <p>Do you 'know anythink' wuth my notice?" She gave me + a look of a sort,</p> + + <p>As I can't put in words, not exactly, a sort o' cold + <i>scorch</i>, dontcherknow.</p> + + <p>That's a bit of a parrydocks p'raps; anyhow, it hurt + wus than a blow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But we went on the fly once agen—can't say 'ow + it wos managed, but soon</p> + + <p>We 'ad passed to a rum-looking region—the + opposite side of the Moon,</p> + + <p>Where no mortal afore had set foot, nor yet eyes, + Miss DIANNER declared.</p> + + <p>"Here's a Region of Sport!" sez the lady. Good + Gracechurch Street, mate, 'ow I stared!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Seemed a sort of a blend-like of Hepsom, and + Goodwood, and Altcar, mixed up</p> + + <p>With the old Epping 'Unt and new Hurlingham, + thoughts of the Waterloo Cup,</p> + + <p>Swell Polo and Pigeon-match tumbled about in my + mind, while the din</p> + + <p>Was like Putney Reach piled on a Prizefight, with + Kennington Oval chucked in.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There wos toffs, fair top new 'uns, mixed hup with + the welcher, the froth with the scum;</p> + + <p>There wos duchesses, proud as DIANNER, and + she-things as sniffed of the slum;</p> + + <p>There was "champions" thick as bluebottles, and + plungers as plenty as peas,</p> + + <p>With stoney-brokes, pale as a poultice, and + "crocks," orful gone at the knees;</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I see a whole howling mix-up of "mug" booky, + dog-owner and rough,</p> + + <p>A-watching of snaky-shaped hounds pelting 'ard + 'after bits o' brown fluff,</p> + + <p>I see—and the Sportsman within me began for to + bubble and burn,</p> + + <p>And I yelled, "O my hazure-horbed Mistress, can't + you and me 'ave jest a turn?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We <i>did</i>, and my "Purdey Extractor" made play, + though it ain't me to brag,</p> + + <p>But somehow her arrers went straighter, and 'ers wos + the heaviest bag.</p> + + <p>"Let <i>me</i> 'ave a try, Miss," sez I, "with that + trifle from Lowther Arcade!"</p> + + <p>I tried, and hit one of her dogs, as she didn't + think sport I'm afraid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The 'ound didn't seem much to mind it; immortal, I + spose, like Miss D.;</p> + + <p>Then we 'ad a slap arter the deer, and she'd very + soon nailed two or three.</p> + + <p><i>I</i> wos out of it, couldn't pot one, and it + needled me orful, dear boy,</p> + + <p>To be licked by a gal, <i>though</i> a goddess, and + armed with a archery toy!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Her togs wos a little bit quisby—for moors as + ain't pitched in the Moon,</p> + + <p>And <i>there wasn't no pic-nic, dear boy!</i> I got + peckish and parched pooty soon.</p> + + <p><i>She</i> lapped from a brook, and her hoptics went + wide as a cop on the watch,</p> + + <p>When I hinted around rayther square, <i>I</i> should + like a small drop of cold Scotch.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Well, well; I must cut this yarn short. We'd a turn + at Moon Sports like all round,</p> + + <p>Wish I'd time to describe our Big Boar + Hunt—DIANNER's pet pastime I found,</p> + + <p>Can't say it was <i>mine</i>; bit too risky. + Pigsticking in Ingy may suit</p> + + <p>White Shikkarries or Princes, dear boy, but yer Boar + is a nasty big brute.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Too much tusk for my taste! 'Owsomever DIANNER she + speared him to rights,</p> + + <p>And I dropped from the tree I'd shinned up when the + boar had made tracks for my tights.</p> + + <p>"Bravo, Miss DIANNER!" I sez. "You are smart, for a + gal, with that spear.</p> + + <p>But didn't yer get jest a mossel alarmed—fur + yer 'ARRY, my dear?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Put it hamorous like, with a wink, snugging up to + the lady, I did;</p> + + <p>For she'd found a weak spot in my 'art, this cold + classical gal, and no kid.</p> + + <p>I'd been 'aving a pull at my flask, up that tree, + and her pluck and blue eyes</p> + + <p>Made me feel a bit spoony; in fact I was mashed. + But, O wot a surprise!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Alarmed? about <i>you</i>, Sir! And <i>why</i>?" + sez DIANNER, with eyes all aflash,</p> + + <p>I sez, "Don't yer remember Adonis, love, Venus's + boar-'unting mash?</p> + + <p>No wonder the lady felt fainty like; fear for a + sweetheart, yer see.</p> + + <p>And—well, if I'm not quite Adonis, <i>you + found your Enjimmyun</i> in <i>Me</i>!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/31-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/31-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"One more, only one, dear DIANNER," I sez. And I + aimed for a kiss,</p> + + <p>I made for her lips, a bee-line. But great snakes, + my dear boy, wot a miss!</p> + + <p>Hit me over the 'ed with her boar-spear, a spanker, + she did, like a shot.</p> + + <p>Don't you never spoon goddesses, CHARLIE; you'll + find it a dashed sight too 'ot!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Adonis!" she cried. "Nay, Actæon! And his shall be + also thy fate.</p> + + <p>There is <i>Punch</i> looking on, he'll approve!" + And she jest set 'er dogs on me, straight!</p> + + <p>"Way-oh! Miss DIANNER!" I yells. "No offence! Don't + be 'ard on a bloke!</p> + + <p>Beg yer pardon, I'm sure!" Here a hound nipped my + calf like a vice, and—I woke.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Leastways, I persoom it <i>wos</i> waking, if + 'tother was sleep and a dream,</p> + + <p>But I feel a bit moon-struck, dear boy. Spooks + abound, and things ain't what they seem.</p> + + <p><i>Mister Punch</i> sez, "it served me quite right." + Well, next time correspondence he'd carry</p> + + <p>With satterlites, spesh'ly the Moon, he had better + not drop upon 'ARRY.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page32" + id="page32"></a>[pg 32]</span> + + <p>"Poor fellow, I pity him," said <i>Mr. Punch</i> to Father + TIME, as the pair passed away from the Lunar precincts + together, bowing courteously, and a little apologetically, to + 'ARRY's late hostess, who called off her dogs, and affably + responded to their parting salutation. "Fact is," pursued the + Sage, "my young friend 'ARRY, though smart and <i>fin de + siècle</i>, in his way, is a little of 'the earth, earthy,' and + lacks both the adventurousness and the tact of an Ixion."</p> + + <p>"I presume," said the Scythe-bearer, "our inter-planetary + peregrinations are now pretty nearly at an end—for this + time?"</p> + + <p>"We have yet one more visit to pay," said <i>Mr. + Punch</i>.</p> + + <p>At this moment, as the space-pervading trio fleeted forward, + a strange unusual effulgence grew to the eastward, and began to + bathe them in golden light. Miraculously metamorphic was its + action upon the aërial travellers. <i>Mr. Punch</i> flung aside + his hat and his "Immensikoff," and appeared as the Apollo-like + personage he really is. TOBY's wings expanded, and his pace + mended. As for "Old Father TIME" himself, the combined + influence of the regenerating philtre in <i>Faust</i>, and the + fire-bath in <i>She</i>, could not more completely have + transmogrified him. His face brightened with youthfulness, his + solitary forelock bushed out into a wavy and hyacinthine + hirsute crop, his ancient and magician-like garments fell from + him, his plumes expanded, until he looked more like "the herald + Mercury" than old Edax Rerum.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then they swung, as on airy <i>trapèze</i>, or on + wings of the thunder-bird strong,</p> + + <p>With the sound in their ears of the voice of the + starry and sisterly throng.</p> + + <p>Did the orbs of splendiferous Sol give a wink as + they ranged into reach?</p> + + <p>Was his genial mouth all alight with the flame of + the friendliest speech?</p> + + <p>Hey, Presto! Great Scott! Transformation on + DRURIOLANUS's stage</p> + + <p>Was never so sudden as this! Who rides there as the + Sun-God? The Sage!</p> + + <p>The Great Hypnotiser! Utopia's lord! He Who Must Be + Obeyed!</p> + + <p>He whose Magical Spell is on Princes and Peoples, on + Art and on Trade.</p> + + <p><i>Houp-là!</i> Transformation tremendous! The round + of the Planets we've travelled,</p> + + <p>Some curious secrets unveiled, and some mysteries + mighty unravelled.</p> + + <p><i>We manage things better on Earth!</i> That's the + formula! Sounds it sardonic?</p> + + <p>Was <i>Punch</i> just a morsel sarcastic, his hosts + just a trifle ironic?</p> + + <p>At any rate, <i>Punch</i> here explains to the World + how to manage things better,</p> + + <p>By purging Humanity's spirit, and snapping Hate's + tyrannous fetter.</p> + + <p>He'd Hypnotise Man into health, both of body and + spirit, and out of</p> + + <p>The follies, and vices, and greeds, and conceits. + See the whole Comus-rout of</p> + + <p>Absurdities, Appetites, Antics, Antipathies, + personal, national,</p> + + <p>Driven before his bright Sun-Car! The Rule of the + Rosily Rational</p> + + <p>He would inaugurate, making Earth's atmosphere + healthy as Thanet's,</p> + + <p><i>That</i> Father TIME, is his aim; <i>that's</i> + the Moral of <i>Punch</i> and the Planets!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/32.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/32.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + <hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch Among the Planets, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH AMONG THE PLANETS *** + +***** This file should be named 13244-h.htm or 13244-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/2/4/13244/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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