_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, _à 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?"