1 files changed, 2801 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/old/13244.txt b/old/13244.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df83d4a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/13244.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2801 @@
+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: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH AMONG THE PLANETS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH,
+
+OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+
+
+Christmas Number 1890.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: Punch Among the Planets]
+
+CHRISTMAS NUMBER 1890.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+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.
+
+To him entered, unannounced save by the staccato yap of the faithful
+_Tobias_, Time's unfailing friend, unerring Mentor, and immortal
+contemporary, _Mr. Punch_.
+
+"_I_ am not for an age, but for All Time," freely quoted the Swan's
+sole parallel. "And very much at Time's service," he added, throwing
+open his fur-lined "Immensikoff," and lighting a cigar at the
+Scythe-bearer's lantern.
+
+[Illustration: Punch Among the Planets]
+
+"Happy to meet you once more, _Mr. Punch_," 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 _Teufelsdroeckh_, 'I am alone with the Stars,' and was
+beginning to feel just a little bit lonely."
+
+"With the Voces Stellarum to keep you company? You surprise me,"
+said _Mr. Punch_. "But what is all this?" he added, pointing with
+accustomed eye to a pile of MS. at TIME's elbow.
+
+If so old a stager as Father TIME _can_ blush, he certainly did so on
+this occasion.
+
+"Fact is, _Mr. Punch_," he rejoined, "I, like younger and shall I
+say lesser Celebrities, have been writing my 'Reminiscences.' Ha ha!
+_The Chronicles of Chronos_ in 6,000 volumes or so--up to now. This
+is a small portion of my _Magnum Opus_. Can you recommend me to a
+publisher?"
+
+"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 aeon or so at least. _Your Magnum Opus_ might
+become a _Scandalum Magnatum_."
+
+"Ah, perhaps so," replied TIME, with a sigh.
+
+"Alone with the Stars," pursued _Mr. Punch_, meditatively. "Humph! The
+Solar System alone ought to provide you with plenty of company."
+
+"Yes." responded TIME, "but, after all, you know, telescopic
+intercourse is not entirely satisfactory. Like EDGAR POE's _Hans
+Pfaal_, I feel I should like to come to closer quarters with the
+'heavenly bodies' as the pedagogues call them."
+
+"And why not?" queried _Mr. Punch_, coolly.
+
+"As how?" asked his companion.
+
+"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?"
+
+TIME admitted he had not.
+
+  "TIME, you rogue, you love to get
+  Sweets upon your list--put _that_ in,"
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+"SIC ITUR AD ASTRA!" said the Sage.
+
+  "Twinkle, twinkle, Fleet Street Star!
+  Saturn wonders who _you_ are,
+  Up above the world so high,
+  Like a portent in the sky.
+  Wonders if, Jove-like, you want,
+  Him to banish and supplant!
+  Fear not, Saturn; _Punch's_ bolt
+  Arms Right Order, not Revolt;
+  Dread no fratricidal wars
+  From this 'Star' among the Stars!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO SATURN.
+
+"I am glad to hear _that_, at any rate," said Saturn, welcoming the
+illustrious guests to his remote golden-ringed realm.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Saturn, however, did not look exactly comfortable, and his voice, how
+unlike "To that large utterance of the early gods," sounded quavering
+and querulous.
+
+"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 _ought_ to have had more sympathy with me--banished
+hither the strife-engendering Pedant's hotch-potch called Political
+Economy."
+
+"Be comforted, Saturn, old boy--_I_ am here!" cried _Mr. Punch_. "I
+am 'personally conducting' Father TIME in a tour of the Planets. Let's
+have a look round your realm!"
+
+_Mr. Punch_ sums up much of what he saw in modern "Saturnian Verses."
+
+_Punch_. Good gracious! my worthy old Ancient, who once held the sway
+    of the heavens,
+  Your realm seems a little bit shaky; what mortals call "sixes and
+    sevens"!
+
+_Saturn_. That's scarcely god-lingo, my boy; but 'tis much as you
+    say, and no wonder.
+  Free imports have ruined my realm--I refer to Bad-Temper and Blunder,
+  Two brutish and boobyish Titans--they've wholly corrupted our morals,
+  And taught us "Boycotting," and "Strikes," and "Lock-outs," and all
+    sorts of mad quarrels.
+  I hope you don't know them down there, in your queer little speck of
+    a planet,
+  These humbugging latter-day Titans?
+
+_Punch_.                       That cannot concern you--now can it?
+
+_Saturn_. Just look at the shindy down yonder!
+
+_Punch_.                       By Jove, what the doose are they doing?
+
+_Saturn_. Oh, settling the Great Social Question!
+
+_Father Time_.                 It looks as though mischief were brewing.
+
+_Saturn_. Sort of parody of the old fight, which was splendid at least,
+    if tremendous,
+  'Twixt Jove and the Titans of old. That colossus, gold-armoured,
+    stupendous,
+  Perched high on the "Privilege" ramparts, and bastioned by big bags of
+    bullion,
+  Is "Capital"; he's the new Jove, and each Titan would treat as his
+    scullion,
+  But look at the huge Hundred-Handed One, armed with the scythe and the
+    sickle,
+  The hammer, the spade, and the pick!
+
+_Father Time_.                 Things appear in no end of a pickle!
+
+_Saturn_. Precisely! That's Labour-Briareus; backed up by "Bad Temper"
+    and "Blunder,"
+  And egged on by "Spout" (with a Fog-Horn); he's "going for" him of the
+    Thunder,
+  And Gold ramparts headlong, _a outrance_.
+
+_Punch_.                       But look at the spectres behind them!
+
+_Saturn_. Ah! Terrors from Tartarus, those to which only Bad Temper
+    can blind them.
+  Those spectres foreshadow grim fate; they are Lawlessness, Ruin,
+    Starvation;
+  To the Thunderer dismal defeat, to the conquerors blank desolation.
+
+The Sage looked serious.
+
+These things, mused he, are an allegory, perhaps, but of a
+significance not wholly Saturnian.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Ah!" quoth Father TIME, "you manage these things much better on the
+Earth, doubtless."
+
+"Doubtless," replied the Sage, drily, as he and Father TIME took their
+departure.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO MARS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+So Mr. PUNCH, holding TIME by the forelock, continued his journey.
+
+"Where are we now?" asked the more elderly gentleman.
+
+"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."
+
+"So I have often heard. But why?"
+
+"That is what we shall soon discover. But now keep quiet, as we have
+arrived."
+
+With the gentlest of gentle shocks _Mr. Punch_ 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.
+
+"It would have been so useful," he murmured, "and if a little bulky,
+what of that? Surely _Mr. Punch_ is accustomed to make light of
+everything?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Why, you speak English!" exclaimed _Mr. Punch_.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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."
+
+"But first," put in TIME, who did not relish being silent, "will you
+kindly tell us what those masses of colour are?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"On the counterweight system," explained the A.D.C. "We cribbed
+the idea from Folkestone, and Lynmouth. And here, _Mr. Punch_, 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."
+
+And sure enough the mechanical soldier saluted.
+
+"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?"
+
+By this time the mechanical soldier had returned to the slope, and was
+parading his beat in a somewhat jerky manner.
+
+"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 _Juliets_ I ever knew had turned sixty, and
+played to a _Romeo_ who was twenty years her senior. Nothing like that
+down below, I suppose?"
+
+"Nothing," returned _Mr. Punch_.
+
+"So I have always understood. Well, where shall we go first?"
+
+"Anywhere you like," said the Sage of Fleet Street. "But are you sure
+that we are not unduly trespassing on your time?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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?"
+
+"No doubt," was the prompt reply.
+
+_Mr. Punch_ and Father TIME had now entered a barrack square, wherein
+a number of trembling recruits were standing in front of a sergeant.
+
+"I am just putting them through their paces, Sir," said he: "they are
+a bit rusty in bowing drill."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Hullo, HUGHIE," said the A.D.C., "on duty to-day?"
+
+"As hall-porter. CHARLIE is smoking-room waiter. I say, do you want to
+take your friends round?"
+
+"Well, I should like to let them get a glimpse of TOMMY ATKINS at his
+ease."
+
+"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."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+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.
+
+"Rather rough, eh?" said he, with a glance at a tray containing a
+cork-screw and an empty bottle.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Rather a dangerous game, isn't it?" observed _Mr. Punch_. "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!"
+
+"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 _did_
+change with TOMMY ATKINS, we, and not he, would have the best of the
+bargain!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Leaving the Soldiers' Club, _Mr. Punch_ 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.
+
+"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."
+
+In another room _Mr. Punch_ 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?"
+
+"Nothing!" returned _Mr. Punch_, as he disappeared.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO MERCURY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Mr. Punch and Father Time were once again whirling on their way
+through boundless space.
+
+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.
+
+"Dear me?" exclaimed _Mr. Punch_. "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?"
+
+"Mercury," replied Father TIME, with cheery spirit; "and with that
+device they try to catch the eye of a passing Comet."
+
+"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."
+
+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 facade 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.
+
+"I wonder what all this is about," observed _Mr. Punch_; "suppose we
+ask a Policeman?"
+
+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 _baton_, and
+beckoned to him. He approached with polite alacrity.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+_Mr. Punch_ 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?"
+
+"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 _fudge_. 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."
+
+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 _Mr. Punch_, 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.
+
+"Certainly. Oblige them!" added _Mr. Punch_, 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."
+
+He turned his ring, and his aged companion struck up the following
+ditty:--
+
+  "Know ye the land where dwells only mock-turtle,
+    Where wine that should gladden but makes you fell queer.
+  Where bayonets bend, where guns burst and hurtle
+    Their breech in the face of their friends at the rear,
+  Where lamps labelled 'safety' with just terrors fill you,
+    Where water supplied you for milk is no theft,
+  Where pills that should cure, if persisted in, kill you
+    And the 'Hair Resurrector' takes all you've got left!
+  Where soap, that should soften your skin, only flays you,
+    Where a horse proves a screw though got through a friend,
+  Where the loss of your 'cover' confounds and dismays you,
+    Though assured by the _Firm_ 'if you hold on t'will mend'?
+  Know ye, in fine, where by pushing and 'rushing,'
+    This--and much more, down the public throat crams,
+  Blatant Advertisement, brazen, unblushing--?
+    If you do, then you've spotted the _Planet of Shams_."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+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.
+
+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 _Mr. Punch_ and Father TIME, and offered
+them a prospectus.
+
+"'THE DEAR LITTLE CHILDREN'S HAPPY AND ELEGANT BURIAL INSTITUTION,'"
+read _Mr. Punch_, surveying the paper presented to him, and
+continuing, "'_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 L2 19s. 6d. in cash on
+production of Corpse._'"
+
+They showed _Mr. Punch_ 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.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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.
+
+"Yes; and I'll trouble you not to keep me waiting, either--seeing that
+it's gone three days since the burial."
+
+"Is this woman demanding the insurance money for the burial of her own
+child?" asked _Mr. Punch_, sternly. And he turned his ring. "And pray,
+Madam," he continued, addressing the beetle-browed woman, "tell me the
+truth."
+
+"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--"
+
+"Come," said _Mr. Punch_, taking Father TIME's arm once more; "let us
+get out of this--I can't breathe here."
+
+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 _Mr.
+Punch_ just to step inside his office, and sample a delicious Lafitte
+of the 1874 vintage.
+
+"Now, try that, Sir," he said, at the same time offering _Mr. Punch_ 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 112s. the dozen."
+
+"It looks all right," drily replied _Mr. Punch_, "but I can't
+think how you can sell it at the price." Then holding up the glass
+critically, and turning his ring, continued, "How do you manage it?"
+
+"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:--
+
+  "Potato spirit--that the 'body' finds;
+    And then, as for colour,
+    Be it brighter or duller,
+  You see I am supplied with several kinds,
+  And as to flavour, I get that desired,
+  By adding various poisons as required.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Ha! ha! Let me send you in a few dozen." He offered _Mr. Punch_ an
+elaborate price-list as he concluded his self-condemnatory verse with
+an obsequious bow.
+
+"Come," said _Mr. Punch_, 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!"
+
+"Their morality does seem to have reached rather a low ebb, I must
+confess," replied Father TIME.
+
+"Nothing like this on our Earth, anyhow," continued _Mr. Punch_,
+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."
+
+They listened as _Mr. Punch_ 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 _Mr. Punch_ paused to
+listen, the well-known familiar refrain--
+
+  "Never, never, never,
+  Shall be slaves!"
+
+smote their ear.
+
+"Capital! Capital!" cried _Mr. Punch_, 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.
+
+  "Fool! Mercurius!
+    Of greed thy sons are slaves;
+  And they ever, ever, ever--
+    Shall be knaves!"
+
+"Come," cried _Mr. Punch_, "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!"
+
+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.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO JUPITER.
+
+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.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"I know this game well," said _Mr. Punch_. "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."
+
+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.
+
+"He's missit the globe," muttered one of the attendants; "I've aye
+tellt him to keep his eye furrmer on the ball."
+
+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.
+
+"Allow me, Your Majesty," said _Mr. Punch_, 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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"This," said the King, as he motioned _Mr. Punch_ 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."
+
+Thus they drove to the balloon station, at which the Imperial guest
+was expected. After a few minutes, a sound of cheering was heard.
+
+"He's coming," observed the King. "Have I got my kissing face on?"
+
+_Mr. Punch_ 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.
+
+  Loud pealed the loyal anthem, and rattled all the drums,
+  And, as the guard presented, the cry went up, "He comes!"
+  He steps upon the platform, and, while the plaudits ring,
+  A King hangs round an Emperor's neck, an Emperor hugs a King;
+  And, with impartial kisses on both cheeks duly pressed,
+  The guest does homage to his host, the host salutes his guest.
+
+The Emperor then, having shaken _Mr. Punch_ warmly by the hand,
+departed with his royal host. After this, the three potentates,
+_Punch_ the Only, FOOZLER THE FIFTH, and the Baratarian Emperor,
+called upon one another at intervals of half an hour. This process
+occupied the afternoon.
+
+For the evening a state-ball at the Royal Palace had been announced.
+Thither, at the appointed hour, _Mr. Punch_ 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 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.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"We will repose awhile," _Mr. Punch_ 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."
+
+"A what?" inquired Father TIME.
+
+"A dress-maker," answered the Master, calmly.
+
+  "In her shop, ancient notions forsaking,
+    The proud ANGELINA unbends;
+  And her figure's a tall one for making
+    A fit for the figures of friends.
+  Our cynical latter-day Catos
+    Are dumb when invited to dine
+  With a Marquis who deals in potatoes,
+    Or an Earl who takes orders for wine.
+  And, though old-fashioned folk think it funny,
+    It's as common as death, or as debts,
+  To find gentlemen making their money
+    Out of shops for the making of bets.
+
+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."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But before _Mr. Punch_ 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.
+
+"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."
+
+The King drew himself up to his full height. Where are my Golf-clubs?
+he asked in a calm voice.
+
+"Your Majesty, they have been seized and secreted."
+
+"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."
+
+At this the mob unanimously burst into tears. They insisted on
+accompanying the deposed monarch to the station, the popular band
+playing "_The Dead March in Saul_." 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.
+
+"I cannot say I think much of all that," said _Mr. Punch_. "In
+our part of the Universe we generally manage to get a little more
+bloodshed out of it."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO URANUS.
+
+The next place that the distinguished travellers visited was Uranus,
+where _Mr. Punch_ and his companion were much surprised to find the
+entire population members of the legal profession.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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."
+
+"And how will it go?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But how can that be?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But, surely litigation is expensive?" suggested _Mr. Punch_.
+
+"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."
+
+"But how will you all live?"
+
+"On the costs!" was the reply, as the Inhabitant of Uranus hurried
+away to attend his appointment.
+
+"Lawyers keeping a suit alive to live upon the costs!" exclaimed _Mr.
+Punch_, in tones of pained astonishment. "I never heard the like!"
+
+And, horrified and sorrowful, he seized Father TIME by the forelock,
+and once more floated into space.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO CASTOR.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Father TIME shivered, and wrapped his ancient cloak more closely about
+him.
+
+"Come, come," said _Mr. Punch_, "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."
+
+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 _stella
+firma_.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Behold," said the Arch-philosopher, "a Royal Sport. These are the
+Castorian Buck-hounds; that elderly gentleman is their master. They
+pay him L1500 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."
+
+"Of course," said the Father, "you have nothing of that sort in
+England."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+_Mr. Punch_ 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.
+
+"I will take you," he remarked, "to our great national race-meeting. I
+assure you it is well worth seeing."
+
+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 _Mr. Punch_. 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."
+
+"That's just it," broke in the owner of the coach; "the public thought
+so too, and they've lost their money."
+
+"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, _they've_ 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 _Mr. Punch_.
+
+But the Sportsman of Sportsmen only frowned.
+
+"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."
+
+His newly-found friend only smiled.
+
+Then he winked as he hummed to himself the words of a song, which ran
+something like this:--
+
+  "Come, sportsmen all, give ear to me, I'll tell you what occurred,
+    But of course you won't repeat it when I've told you;
+  For with honourable gentlemen I hope that mum's the word,
+    When a horse you've laid your money on has sold you.
+  I presume you lost your shekels, and you think it rather low,
+    Since you're none of you as rich as NORTH or BARING.
+  But another time you'll get them back by being 'in the know,'
+    When a favourite is started for an airing.
+
+"That's an odd sort of song," said _Mr. Punch_.
+
+"Not so odd as the subject," replied the singer. "But you have only
+heard the first verse; wait till you know the second."
+
+  "'But they didn't tell the public; it's a precious, jolly shame;'
+    (Such behaviour to the public seems to shock it)--
+  Now if _you'd_ been placed behind the scenes you wouldn't think the same,
+    But put principles and winnings in your pocket.
+  A gent who owns a stable doesn't always think of _you_,
+    And he doesn't seem to fancy profit-sharing.
+  And you really shouldn't curse him when he manages a 'do.'
+    With a favourite who's only on an airing."
+
+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.
+
+"That's murder," said _Mr. Punch_. "Where are the police?"
+
+And he was on the point of stepping down, to render assistance, when
+his friend laid a hand upon his arm.
+
+"Oh, that's only a welsher," he said; "he's bolting with other
+people's money."
+
+"Is it the owner of the chestnut?" inquired Father TIME.
+
+"Bless your heart, no," was the reply. "It's only a low-class cheat.
+The owner of the chestnut is--"
+
+But _Mr. Punch_ had no wish to hear or see more.
+
+He took TIME's arm, and together they floated away into space, to land
+shortly afterwards in another sphere.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO POLLUX.
+
+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.
+
+"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 [Greek: pux agathos], 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."
+
+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.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Gentlemen," said the minion to the pair, "are you
+Members?"
+
+_Mr. Punch_ 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.
+
+"Aha," said _Mr. Punch_, 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."
+
+[Illustration: A PAIR OF SPECTACLES.]
+
+But here the heroic Muse insists on taking up the strain:--
+
+  The Father spake--"O skilled in men and books,
+  Read me this crowd, inspect them, scan their looks;
+  See, from their shining heads electric rays,
+  Reflected, sparkle in their barbers' praise.
+  Lo, on each bulging front's expansive white
+  A single jewel flames with central light;
+  To vacant eyes the haughty eye-glass clings,
+  Stiff stand their collars, though their ties have wings.
+  What of their faces? Bloodshot eyes that blink,
+  And thick lips, framed for blasphemy and drink.
+  Here the grey hair, that should adorn the Sage,
+  Serves but to mark a weak, unhonoured age;
+  There on the boy pale cheeks proclaim the truth,
+  The faded emblems of a wasted youth.
+  All, all are loathsome in this motley crew,
+  The Peer, the Snob, the Gentile, and the Jew,
+  Young men and old, the greybeards and the boys,
+  These dull professors of debauch and noise."
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  He ceased. The Wise One gazed in silent gloom,
+  While oaths and uproar hurtled through the room--
+  "Hi, there, a monkey on the Pollux Pet;"
+  "Fifty to forty;" "Blank your eyes, no bet;"
+  "A level thousand on the Castor Chick;"
+  "Brandy for two, and, curse you, bring it quick."
+  While one who spake to _Punch_ rapped out an oath--
+  "Who cares?" he said, "I stand to win on both.
+  Fair play be blowed, that's all a pack of lies,
+  Let fools fight fair, while _these_ cut up the prize.
+  Old Cock, you needn't frown; I'm in the know,
+  And if you don't like barneys, dash it, go!"
+  One blow from _Punch_ had quelled th' audacious man,
+  He raised his hand, when, lo, the fight began.
+
+  "Time! time!" called one; the cornered ruffians rose,
+  Shook hands, squared up, then swift they rained in blows.
+  Feint follows feint, and whacks on whacks succeed,
+  Struck lips grow puffy, battered eye-brows bleed.
+  From simultaneous counters heads rebound,
+  And ruby drops are scattered on the ground.
+  Abraded foreheads flushing show the raw,
+  And fistic showers clatter on the jaw.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Now on "the mark" impinge the massive hands,
+  Now on the kissing-trap a crasher lands.
+  Blood-dripping noses lose their sense of smell,
+  And ribs are roasted that a crowd may yell.
+  Each round the other's neck the champions cling,
+  Then break away, and stagger round the ring.
+  Now panting Pollux fails, his fists move slow,
+  He trips, the Chicken plants a smashing blow.
+  The native "pug" lies spent upon the floor,
+  Lies for ten seconds,--and the fight is o'er.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  Thunders of cheering hail th' expected end,
+  High in the air ecstatic hats ascend.
+  While frenzied peers and joyous bookies drain
+  Promiscuous bumpers of the Club champagne.
+
+But _Mr. Punch_ had seen enough.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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."
+
+And with that he and Father TIME walked gloomily from the hall, and
+found themselves once more in the street.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"What ho! my trusty Shooting Star," cried _Mr. Punch_. Whirr-r-r--
+
+And in the thousandth part of a second they found themselves within
+measurable distance of TOBY's own Planet. And here _the_ Dog speaks
+for himself.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: PUNCHIUS PHOEBUS, THE GREAT UNIVERSAL HYPNOTISER.
+
+("_He who must be Obeyed!_")
+
+A TRANSFORMATION SCENE.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO THE DOG-STAR.
+
+[Illustration: THE DOG STAR]
+
+"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."
+
+"Are you serious, TOBY?" said _Mr. Punch_, stepping with added
+caution.
+
+"No, Sir, _I'm_ not. This," I said, waving my hand with graceful and
+comprehensive gesture around the orb where I am temporarily located,
+"_this_ is Sirius."
+
+"Ah, I see," said _Mr. P._, 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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Dear me, dear me!" cried _Mr. P._, "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."
+
+"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."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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."
+
+"Ah!" said _Mr. Punch_, gravely shaking his head, "we manage things
+much better than that at Westminster."
+
+Got my two friends with some difficulty across Palace Yard, eyed
+suspiciously by the police-dogs on duty. One concentrated his
+attention on _Mr. Punch's_ dorsal peculiarity.
+
+"We have strict orders from the Sergeant-at-Arms," he said, "to
+examine all parcels carried by strangers."
+
+"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.
+
+"Wait here a moment," I said, "till I get an order for your
+admission."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Absent only a few minutes; when I got back terrible commotion; _Mr.
+P.'s_ 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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Make it a couple of millions, whilst you are at it, young man," said
+a sarcastic police-dog.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"Ah," said _Mr. P._, "we manage things much better at Westminster."
+
+"Order! Order!" cried an angry voice, and _Mr. P._ 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.
+
+"What are they talking about?" asked TIME, in guarded whisper, being,
+by this time, completely cowed.
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+_Mr. P._ 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.
+
+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 _vivi voce_, and at length.
+
+"Now," I said, not liking _Mr. P.'s_ 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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"It looks very like it," said _Mr. P._; "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."
+
+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. _Mr. P._ increasingly perky.
+
+"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."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+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.
+
+"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--"
+
+Here our friend's observations were brought to a sudden close. TIME
+was, as _Mr. P._ 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. _Mr. P._, 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.
+
+_Business Done_.--_Mr. Punch_ and another Stranger expelled from the
+Gallery, and TOBY's narrative completed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO VENUS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The two Travellers made their way through space in silence, but on a
+sudden Father TIME plucked his conductor by the sleeve, and spoke.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+A throng of maidens, in classical attire and wearing wreaths of roses
+on their heads, made their way along this avenue to where _Mr. Punch_
+and his companion were standing. Their leader, a fair and lovely girl
+of seventeen, advanced to the Wise One and addressed him.
+
+"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?"
+
+_Mr. Punch_ 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:--
+
+"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."
+
+"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 ----?"
+
+But CALLISTA interrupted him. She smiled a beautiful smile.
+
+"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 _Mr. Punch_. "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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+Without a moment's hesitation, ZOE stated the question, and, what is
+more, solved it with absolute correctness.
+
+"Marvellous!" said _Mr. Punch_. "I congratulate you."
+
+"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?"
+
+CYNTHIA at once complied, and _Mr. Punch_ listened in amazement to
+the resounding lines of an ode worthy of the great Greek. "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."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+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.
+
+"Your Majesty" said _Mr. Punch_, "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!"
+
+And with this, he and the Father kissed the young Queen's hand, and
+left the royal presence chamber.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO SERIOCOMIX.
+
+"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 _Mr. Punch en route_, "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!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+They were in Seriocomix--a new and brilliant planet recently
+discovered by _Mr. Punch_--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 _Mr.
+Punch's_ company.
+
+_Mr. Punch_, though considerably TIME's junior, almost envied his
+companion's boyish eagerness for pleasure; he was so evidently
+unfamiliar with Music Halls.
+
+"If you are expecting to be vastly amused, Sir," _Mr. Punch_ ventured
+to hint, "I am afraid you may be just a trifle disappointed."
+
+"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 _you_ 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, _would_ they, now?"
+
+_Mr. Punch_ felt a natural reluctance to betray the weak points of any
+terrestrial institution.
+
+"Oh, _our_ 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 _here_, you know, that's all."
+
+"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 _Mr. Punch_ only succeeded in
+catching the following refrain:--
+
+  "Oh, I 'ave sech a w'y with the loydies! All the dorlins upon me are gorn!
+  For they soy--'Yn't he noice! you can tell by his vice,
+  He's a toff and a gentleman born!'"
+
+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.
+
+But TIME seemed rather depressed than exhilarated by this performance.
+
+"He ought to be kicked off the stage," he muttered. "I'd do it myself
+if I was younger!"
+
+"You would make a mistake," said _Mr. Punch_; "he is just the person
+that a Music Hall audience idolises as their highest ideal of a man
+and gentleman--in Seriocomix."
+
+"At least," said TIME, "you wouldn't stand such an outrageous cad as
+that in any of _your_ Music Halls, I hope?"
+
+A deeper tinge stole into _Mr. Punch's_ 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."
+
+"I wish you could send one or two out to Seriocomix, then, as
+missionaries," said TIME.
+
+"I wish we could send them _all_," rejoined _Mr. Punch_, 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 _intoxicated_, Sir--look at
+his _tie_!"
+
+"I think not," said _Mr. Punch_, 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."
+
+It was a spirited chorus, and the accomplished vocalist reeled in
+quite a natural manner as he chanted:--
+
+  "So every pub I enter, boys,
+  With welcome the room will ring;
+  Make room for him, there, in the centre, boys!
+  For he is the Boozer King!
+  Yes, give him a seat in the centre, boys.
+  Three cheers for our  Boozer King!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But TIME's worn features exhibited nothing but the strongest disgust.
+
+"Is it possible," he exclaimed, "that this sort of thing can be
+considered amusing anywhere!"
+
+"It is considered extremely facetious," said _Mr. Punch_--"in
+Seriocomix."
+
+"What would they think of such a--such an apotheosis of degradation
+in one of your Music Halls at home, eh?" demanded TIME.
+
+Privately, _Mr. Punch_ was of opinion that it would not be at all
+unpopular. However, he was not going to admit this:--
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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."
+
+"I respect them for their scruples," said TIME; "they have their
+reward in a clear conscience," "No doubt," said _Mr. Punch_. "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.
+
+"Come," said TIME, with more approval than he had yet shown, "this is
+better--_much_ better. We need feel no shame is listening to _this_
+young lady, at all events. What is she going to give us? Some tender
+little love-ditty, I'll be bound?"
+
+She sang of love, certainly, though she treated the subject from
+rather an advanced point of view, and this was the song she sang:--
+
+  "True love--you tyke the tip from me--'s all blooming tommy-rot!
+  And the only test we go by is--'ow much a man has got?
+  So none of you need now despair a girlish 'art to mash,--
+  So long as you're provided with the necessairy cash!"
+
+And the chorus was:--
+
+  "You may be an 'owling cad;
+  Or be gowing to the bad;
+  Or a hoary centenarian, or empty-headed lad;
+  Or the merest trifle mad--
+  If there's rhino to be had,
+  Why, a modern girl will tyke you--yes, and only be too glad!"
+
+As she carolled out this charming ditty in her thin high voice, TIME
+positively shivered in his stall, "Are _all_ the girls like that in
+Seriocomix?" he moaned. "I trust not."
+
+"It seems the fashion to assume so here, at any rate," said _Mr.
+Punch_, 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?"
+
+"Yes," said TIME, as he made for the exit. "I think she is going to
+sing again presently. Come along!"
+
+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.
+
+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:--
+
+  "Yes, we never stand a foreigner's dictation!
+    No matter if we're wrong or if we're right;
+  We're a breed of good old bulldogs as a nation,
+    And we never stop to bark before we bite!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+She began in a quavering treble that was instinct with intense
+feeling:--
+
+  "Under the dysies to rest I have lyed him;
+  My little cock-sparrer so fythful and tyme!
+  And the duckweed he loved so is blooming besoide him,
+  But I clean out his cyge every d'y just the syme!
+  For it brings him before me so sorcy and sproightly,
+  As with seed and fresh water his glorsis I fill:
+  Though the poor little tyle which he waggled so lytely
+  Loys under the dysies all stiffened and still!"
+
+--And then, to a subdued _obbligato_ upon a bird-whistle, came the
+touching refrain:
+
+  "Yes, I hear him singing 'Tweet,' so melodious and sweet!
+  Till his shadder comes and flits about the room. 'Tweet-tweet-tweet!'
+  All my sorrer I forget. For I have the forncy yet,
+  That he twitters while he's loyin' in his tomb--'Tweet-tweet!'
+  Yes, he twitters to me softly from his tomb!"
+
+_Mr. Punch_ 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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"I should like," said TIME, rather wistfully, as they proceeded
+to visit yet another establishment, "yes, I _should_ like to hear
+something _comic_ before the evening is over."
+
+"Now is your opportunity, then," said _Mr. Punch_, 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.'"
+
+"And does that mean that he is funny?" inquired TIME, hopefully.
+
+"If it doesn't, I don't know what it _does_ mean," replied _Mr.
+Punch_, as the Mastodon entered.
+
+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:--
+
+  "We met at the corner, Marire and me.
+    Quite permiscuous! Who'd ha' thought of it?
+  She took and invited me 'ome to tea;
+    Quite permiscuous! Who'd ha' thought of it?
+  I sat in the parler along with her,
+  Tucking into the eggs and the bread and but-ter,--
+  When in come her Par with the kitching po-ker!
+    _Quite_ permiscuous! _Who'd_ ha' thought of it?"
+
+There was a chorus, of course:--
+
+  "Quite permiscuous! Who'd ha' thought of it?
+    Who can guess what's going to be!
+  Whatever you fancy'll fall far short of it.
+    That's the way things 'appen with me!"
+
+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.
+
+"A melancholy performance that," he said, shaking his head, "a sorry
+piece of vulgar buffoonery, Sir!"
+
+"Aren't you rather severe, Sir?" remonstrated _Mr. Punch_; "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, '_Quite
+permiscuous! Who'd ha' thought of it_?' 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
+_that_, Sir?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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
+_do_ 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.
+
+"With _us_," said _Mr. Punch_, complacently, "there is a net stretched
+below the performers."
+
+"An excellent arrangement," said TIME; "and I suppose, if they _did_
+happen to fall--"
+
+"The spectators underneath would be to some extent protected," said
+_Mr. Punch_.
+
+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 _will_ do. After all this
+I want a little rational amusement. I want to be cheered up. Now when
+will you take me round _your_ Music Halls, eh? Any evening will suit
+me--shall we say Boxing Night?"
+
+"_Not if I know it!_" was _Mr. Punch's_ internal reflection--but all
+he said was, "'Boxing Night?' let me see, I'm going _somewhere_ on
+Boxing Night, I know. Well, I'll look up my engagements when I get
+home, and drop you a line."
+
+"Do," said TIME--"mind you don't forget. I am sure we shall have
+capital fun."
+
+"Oh, capital," replied _Mr. Punch_, hurriedly--"capital--but now for
+(excuse the paradox) the Land of the Sea."
+
+And so again they started. But _Mr. Punch's_ presentiment will turn
+out to be quite correct. He _will_ be unfortunately engaged on Boxing
+Night, and so his tour of the terrestrial Music Halls with TIME will
+be postponed _sine die_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VISIT TO NEPTUNE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+_Mr. Punch_ condoled with the son of Neptune, and asked what were the
+chief amusements in the planet.
+
+"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?"
+
+_Mr. Punch_ at the moment this question was put was probably thinking
+of something else--at any rate he gave no answer.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"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."
+
+"Ladies' foot-ball," echoed _Mr. Punch_, "why what has that to do with
+matters nautical?"
+
+"Pardon me, _Mr. Punch_," 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?"
+
+The Sage of Fleet Street bowed, and admitted that second thoughts were
+best.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Nothing," returned the Sage.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"So I thought," was the reply. "If you have time, you can call upon
+the Admiral Survival of the Fittest."
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh, certainly," returned _Mr. Punch_, "Delighted! But, Admiral, isn't
+that sort of thing a little old-fashioned?"
+
+"And what of that, Sir? In spite of everything _we_ still have hearts
+of oak. We have _not_ 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 _that_ 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."
+
+"But if the ships have changed, would it not be better if the crews
+had undergone an appropriate transformation?"
+
+"We don't think so. But, there, it's no use palavering. Some day the
+matter will be put to the test?"
+
+"By a war?"
+
+"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 _very_ different?"
+
+"Very," replied _Mr. Punch_. "_We_ have the Admiralty!"
+
+And considering this an appropriate moment for departure, the Sage and
+his Venerable Companion floated amongst the stars.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AMONG THE DRAMATIC AND OPERATIC STARS.
+
+AIRY FAIRY LILIAN.
+
+KING ARTHUR.
+
+THE ONLY ADELINA.
+
+OUR ELLEN.
+
+OUR HENRY.
+
+THE GRASSHOPERATIC STAR.
+
+THE SOCIETY CLOWN.
+
+"O.K."
+
+OUR JOHNNIE.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ARTISTIC STARS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"It's wonderful!" exclaimed TIME. "We haven't got anything like this
+on Earth."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"There's the President!" exclaimed Old TIME.
+
+"Ah! everyone knows _him_," said _Mr. Punch_--"artist and orator, and
+ever a Grand Young Man, the flower of the Royal Academy."
+
+"Sir JOHN, too," cried TIME.
+
+"As fresh as his own paint is our MILLAIS," returned _Mr. Punch_.
+"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?"
+
+"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--"
+
+"Rather!" cried _Mr. Punch_, 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."
+
+"But you're taking _me_ up," observed the aged T., slily.
+
+"Quite so," returned his guide--who if, _per impossibile_, he ever
+_could_ be old, would be "_the_ 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!"
+
+And what happened is told by 'ARRY in the following letter.
+
+[Illustration: "PHYLLIS IS MY ONLY JOY!"
+
+QUEEN OF SONG.
+
+THE JERSEY LILY.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'ARRY'S VISIT TO THE MOON.
+
+  Dear CHARLIE,--I've bin on the scoop, and no error this time, my
+      dear boy!
+  I must tell yer my rounds; it's a barney I know you are bound to
+      enjoy.
+  Talk of _Zadkiel's Halmanack_, CHARLIE, JOHN KEATS, or the _Man
+      in the Moon_--
+  Yah! I've cut all _their_ records as clean as a comet would lick
+      a balloon.
+
+  'ARRY ain't no Astronomer, leastways I ain't never made it my mark
+  To go nap on star-gazing; I've mostly got other good biz arter dark.
+  But when _Mister Punch_ give me the tip 'ow he'd take poor old
+      TIME on the fly,
+  Wy I tumbled to it like a shot; 'ARRY's bound to be in it, sez I.
+
+  So I took on the Lockyers and Procters, and mugged up the planets
+      and stars.
+  With their gods and their goddesses, likeways their thunderbolts,
+      tridents and cars.
+  I jogged on with old Jupiter, CHARLIE, and gave young Apoller
+      a turn,
+  While as to DIANNER!--but there, that is jest wot you're going
+      to learn.
+
+  It wos dry and a little bit dazing, this cram, and you won't
+      think it's odd
+  If yours truly got doosedly drowsy. In fact I wos napped on
+      the nod,
+  But the way I got woke wos a wunner. Oh! CHARLIE, my precious
+      old pal,
+  If you'd know wot's fair yum-yum, 'ook on to a genuine celestial
+      gal.
+
+  "_Smack!_" "Hillo!" sez I, starting sudden, "where ham I, and
+      wot's this 'ere game?"
+  Then a pair o' blue eyes looked in mine with a lime-lighty sort of
+      a flame,
+  As made me feel moony immediate. "Great Pompey," thinks I, "here's
+      a spree!
+  It's DIANNER by all that is proper, and as for Enjimmyun--that's
+      _Me_!"
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  For I see a young person in--well, I ain't much up in classical
+      togs,
+  But she called it a "chlamys," I think. She'd a bow, and a couple
+      of dogs,
+  "Rayther forward and sportive young party," thinks I, Sandown-Parky
+      in style;
+  But pooty, and larky no doubt, so I tips her a wink and a smile.
+
+  "All right, Miss DIANNER," sez I. "You 'ave won 'em--the gloves--and
+      no kid.
+  Wot size, Miss, and 'ow many buttons?" But she never lowered a lid,
+  And the red on her cheeks warn't no blush but a reglar indignant
+      flare-up,
+  Whilst the look from her proud pair of lamps 'it as 'ard and as
+      straight as a Krupp.
+
+  Brought me sharp to my bearings, I tell yer. "Young mortal," she sez,
+      "it is plain
+  An Enjimmyun is not to be found in the purlieus of Chancery Lane.
+  And that Primrose 'Ill isn't a Latmos. The things you call gloves I
+      don't wear,
+  Only buskins. But don't you be rude, or the fate of Actaeon you'll
+      share."
+
+  I wosn't quite fly to her patter, but "mortal" might jest 'ave bin
+      "cub,"
+  From the high-perlite way she pernounced it, and plainly DIANNER
+      meant "snub."
+  Struck me moony, her manner, did CHARLIE, she hypnertised me with
+      her looks,
+  And the next thing I knowed I was padding the 'oof in a region of
+      spooks.
+
+  Spooks, is bogies and ghostesses, CHARLIE, according to latter-day
+      chat,--
+  And the place where DIANNER conveyed, me _was_ spooky, and spectral
+      at that.
+  "Where _are_ we, Miss, if I _may_ arsk?" I sez, orfully 'umbl for me.
+  Then she turns 'er two lamps on me sparkling. "Of course we're in
+      Limbo," sez she.
+
+  Didn't quite like the lay on it, CHARLIE, for Limbo sounds precious
+      like quod:
+  But _she_ meant Lunar Limbo, dear boy, sort o' store-room, where
+      everythink odd,
+  Out of date, foolish, faddy, and sech like, is kept like old curio
+      stock.
+  (Ef yer want to know more about Limbo, read Mr. POPE's _Rape of the
+      Lock_.)
+
+  "So this 'ere is the Moon, Miss!" sez I. "Where's the Man there's
+      sech talk on downstairs?"
+  She looked at me 'orty. Thinks I, "You're a 'ot 'un to give yourself
+      hairs.
+  I may level you down a bit later: The Man in the Moon, Miss," I adds.
+  Sez she, "We don't 'ave Men up here; they are most of them tyrants or
+      cads!"
+
+  "Oh," sez I, "on the MONA CAIRD lay, eh, my lady?" Jest then, mate, I
+      looks
+  And sees male-looking things by the dozen: but then they turned out
+      to be spooks.
+  There was TOLSTOI the Rooshian romancer, a grim-looking son of a gun,
+  Welting into young Cupid like scissors, and wallopping Hymen like fun.
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  Old Hymen looked 'orrified rayther; but as for young Arrers-and-'Arts,
+  _He_ turned up his nose at the old 'un, whilst all the gay donas and
+      tarts,
+  Not to mention the matronly mivvies, were arter the boy with the bow,
+  Plainly looking on TOLSTOI and IBSEN as crackpots, and not in the know.
+
+  "Queer paper, my dear Miss DIANNER," sez I, "wot do _you_ think?" Sez
+      she,
+  "A mere Vision of Vanities, mortal, of no speshal interest to me.
+  _I_ am not the keeper of Limbo, although it is found in my sphere.
+  Everything that's absurd and unnatural claims a clear right to come
+      _here_.
+
+  "See, the latest Art-Hobbies are ambling about with their 'eads in the
+      air,
+  And their riders are tilting like true toothpick paladins. SMUDGE over
+      there
+  Makes a bee-line for SCRATCH in this corner, whilst MUCK and the
+      Mawkish at odds,
+  Clash wildly, and Naturalism pink Sentiment painfully prods."
+
+  Then I twigged Penny WHISTLER's white plume, and the haddypose HOSCAR
+      upreared,
+  His big hairy horryflame, CHARLIE, whilst Phillistines looked on and
+      jeered.
+  I see Nature, as Narstiness, ramping at wot Nambypamby dubbed Nice,
+  And Twoddle parading as Virtue, and Silliness playing at Vice.
+
+  Here was pooty girls Primrosing madly, and spiling their tempers a lump,
+  By telling absurd taradiddles for some big political pump;
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  And there wos 'ard-mouthed middle-aged 'uns a shaking the Socherlist
+      flag,
+  And a ramping like tiger-cats tipsy around a rediklus red rag.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  There wos patriots playing the clown, there was magistrates playing the
+      fool;
+  There wos jugginses teaching the trombone to kids at a bloomin' Board
+      School.
+  "This is Free Hedgercation in Shindy," sez I. "They're as mad as March
+      hares,
+  All these Limboites, dear Miss DIANNER. We do it _much_ better
+      downstairs!"
+
+  She smiled kinder scoffish, I fancied, and give 'er white shoulders a
+      hunch.
+  Says she; "I've no comments to make. It's along of my friend _Mr. Punch_
+  Whom the whole Solar System obeys, and the Court of Olympus respects,
+  That I wait on you 'ere, Mister ARRY. Pray what would you like to see
+      next?"
+
+  "Well," sez I, with a glance at her gaiters, "I've heard you're a whale,
+      Miss, at Sport.
+  Do you 'know anythink' wuth my notice?" She gave me a look of a sort,
+  As I can't put in words, not exactly, a sort o' cold _scorch_,
+      dontcherknow.
+  That's a bit of a parrydocks p'raps; anyhow, it hurt wus than a blow.
+
+  But we went on the fly once agen--can't say 'ow it wos managed, but soon
+  We 'ad passed to a rum-looking region--the opposite side of the Moon,
+  Where no mortal afore had set foot, nor yet eyes, Miss DIANNER declared.
+  "Here's a Region of Sport!" sez the lady. Good Gracechurch Street, mate,
+      'ow I stared!
+
+  Seemed a sort of a blend-like of Hepsom, and Goodwood, and Altcar, mixed
+      up
+  With the old Epping 'Unt and new Hurlingham, thoughts of the Waterloo Cup,
+  Swell Polo and Pigeon-match tumbled about in my mind, while the din
+  Was like Putney Reach piled on a Prizefight, with Kennington Oval chucked
+      in.
+
+  There wos toffs, fair top new 'uns, mixed hup with the welcher, the froth
+      with the scum;
+  There wos duchesses, proud as DIANNER, and she-things as sniffed of the slum;
+  There was "champions" thick as bluebottles, and plungers as plenty as peas,
+  With stoney-brokes, pale as a poultice, and "crocks," orful gone at the knees;
+
+  I see a whole howling mix-up of "mug" booky, dog-owner and rough,
+  A-watching of snaky-shaped hounds pelting 'ard 'after bits o' brown fluff,
+  I see--and the Sportsman within me began for to bubble and burn,
+  And I yelled, "O my hazure-horbed Mistress, can't you and me 'ave jest
+      a turn?"
+
+  We _did_, and my "Purdey Extractor" made play, though it ain't me to brag,
+  But somehow her arrers went straighter, and 'ers wos the heaviest bag.
+  "Let _me_ 'ave a try, Miss," sez I, "with that trifle from Lowther Arcade!"
+  I tried, and hit one of her dogs, as she didn't think sport I'm afraid.
+
+  The 'ound didn't seem much to mind it; immortal, I spose, like Miss D.;
+  Then we 'ad a slap arter the deer, and she'd very soon nailed two or three.
+  _I_ wos out of it, couldn't pot one, and it needled me orful, dear boy,
+  To be licked by a gal, _though_ a goddess, and armed with a archery toy!
+
+  Her togs wos a little bit quisby--for moors as ain't pitched in the Moon,
+  And _there wasn't no pic-nic, dear boy!_ I got peckish and parched pooty
+      soon.
+  _She_ lapped from a brook, and her hoptics went wide as a cop on the watch,
+  When I hinted around rayther square, _I_ should like a small drop of cold
+      Scotch.
+
+  Well, well; I must cut this yarn short. We'd a turn at Moon Sports like all
+      round,
+  Wish I'd time to describe our Big Boar Hunt--DIANNER's pet pastime I found,
+  Can't say it was _mine_; bit too risky. Pigsticking in Ingy may suit
+  White Shikkarries or Princes, dear boy, but yer Boar is a nasty big brute.
+
+  Too much tusk for my taste! 'Owsomever DIANNER she speared him to rights,
+  And I dropped from the tree I'd shinned up when the boar had made tracks
+      for my tights.
+  "Bravo, Miss DIANNER!" I sez. "You are smart, for a gal, with that spear.
+  But didn't yer get jest a mossel alarmed--fur yer 'ARRY, my dear?"
+
+  Put it hamorous like, with a wink, snugging up to the lady, I did;
+  For she'd found a weak spot in my 'art, this cold classical gal, and no kid.
+  I'd been 'aving a pull at my flask, up that tree, and her pluck and blue eyes
+  Made me feel a bit spoony; in fact I was mashed. But, O wot a surprise!
+
+  "Alarmed? about _you_, Sir! And _why_?" sez DIANNER, with eyes all aflash,
+  I sez, "Don't yer remember Adonis, love, Venus's boar-'unting mash?
+  No wonder the lady felt fainty like; fear for a sweetheart, yer see.
+  And--well, if I'm not quite Adonis, _you found your Enjimmyun_ in _Me_!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "One more, only one, dear DIANNER," I sez. And I aimed for a kiss,
+  I made for her lips, a bee-line. But great snakes, my dear boy, wot a miss!
+  Hit me over the 'ed with her boar-spear, a spanker, she did, like a shot.
+  Don't you never spoon goddesses, CHARLIE; you'll find it a dashed sight
+      too 'ot!
+
+  "Adonis!" she cried. "Nay, Actaeon! And his shall be also thy fate.
+  There is _Punch_ looking on, he'll approve!" And she jest set 'er dogs
+      on me, straight!
+  "Way-oh! Miss DIANNER!" I yells. "No offence! Don't be 'ard on a bloke!
+  Beg yer pardon, I'm sure!" Here a hound nipped my calf like a vice,
+      and--I woke.
+
+  Leastways, I persoom it _wos_ waking, if 'tother was sleep and a dream,
+  But I feel a bit moon-struck, dear boy. Spooks abound, and things ain't
+      what they seem.
+  _Mister Punch_ sez, "it served me quite right." Well, next time
+      correspondence he'd carry
+  With satterlites, spesh'ly the Moon, he had better not drop upon 'ARRY.
+
+"Poor fellow, I pity him," said _Mr. Punch_ 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 _fin de siecle_, in his way, is a little of 'the
+earth, earthy,' and lacks both the adventurousness and the tact of
+an Ixion."
+
+"I presume," said the Scythe-bearer, "our inter-planetary
+peregrinations are now pretty nearly at an end--for this time?"
+
+"We have yet one more visit to pay," said _Mr. Punch_.
+
+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 aerial
+travellers. _Mr. Punch_ 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 _Faust_, and the
+fire-bath in _She_, 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.
+
+  Then they swung, as on airy _trapeze_, or on wings of the thunder-bird
+      strong,
+  With the sound in their ears of the voice of the starry and sisterly
+      throng.
+  Did the orbs of splendiferous Sol give a wink as they ranged into
+      reach?
+  Was his genial mouth all alight with the flame of the friendliest
+      speech?
+  Hey, Presto! Great Scott! Transformation on DRURIOLANUS's stage
+  Was never so sudden as this! Who rides there as the Sun-God? The Sage!
+  The Great Hypnotiser! Utopia's lord! He Who Must Be Obeyed!
+  He whose Magical Spell is on Princes and Peoples, on Art and on Trade.
+  _Houp-la!_ Transformation tremendous! The round of the Planets we've
+      travelled,
+  Some curious secrets unveiled, and some mysteries mighty unravelled.
+  _We manage things better on Earth!_ That's the formula! Sounds it
+      sardonic?
+  Was _Punch_ just a morsel sarcastic, his hosts just a trifle ironic?
+  At any rate, _Punch_ here explains to the World how to manage things
+      better,
+  By purging Humanity's spirit, and snapping Hate's tyrannous fetter.
+  He'd Hypnotise Man into health, both of body and spirit, and out of
+  The follies, and vices, and greeds, and conceits. See the whole
+      Comus-rout of
+  Absurdities, Appetites, Antics, Antipathies, personal, national,
+  Driven before his bright Sun-Car! The Rule of the Rosily Rational
+  He would inaugurate, making Earth's atmosphere healthy as Thanet's,
+  _That_ Father TIME, is his aim; _that's_ the Moral of _Punch_ and the
+      Planets!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+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.txt or 13244.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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.