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.