"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." "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. [Illustration] "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. * * * * *