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 _Teufelsdröckh_, '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 æon 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!"
* * * * *