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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.
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"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.
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"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.