“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.”