One gets, of course, very little of common luxuries in a balloon. There is just a car of basket-work, and a wooden plank for a seat. The knees must serve for a table, and the head rests on the edge of the car when one sits and rests. The bench will hold only two at a time, and even the two find it a tight fit. Of course, it is impossible to cook in a balloon, for anything in the nature of fire would produce an instant blow-up, and a scattering of the whole expedition to the four winds. The food one takes consists of cold meat, bread, fruit, eggs, and perhaps salad--prepared beforehand. M. Flammarion carried his instruments as usual--his barometers, telescopes, thermometers, and the rest--on his wedding trip, and made scientific observations and notes from first to last. _A Peep into "Punch."_ BY J. HOLT SCHOOLING. [_The Proprietors of "Punch" have given special permission to reproduce the accompanying illustrations. This is the first occasion when a periodical has been enabled to present a selection from Mr. Punch's famous pages._] PART I.--1841 TO 1849. Mr. Punch has, perhaps, never given a better proof of ability to gauge the public mind of this country than that contained in the following lines, quoted from the issue dated November 5, 1898: A WARNING WORD. [_From Mr. Punch's "Vagrant."_] Dear Punch,--I am not one to bellow Nor am I much on bloodshed bent; I'm not a tearing Jingo fellow, All fuss, and froth, and discontent. [_Here follow some verses relating to political affairs, and then come the lines printed below. J. H. S._] We have another, sterner matter-- The Frenchman posted on the Nile. Not his to reason? True! I like him, His skill to act, his pluck to dare. I'd sooner cheer him, far, than strike him-- But why did others send him there? In truth, they did not mean to please us; They must have realised with joy That MARCHAND on the Nile must tease us, And sent him merely to annoy. So be it then: we know what's what now, And what the Frenchmen would be at. Though Major MARCHAND's on the spot now, He's got to pack and go--that's flat. We're tired of gracefully conceding, Tired, too, of jibe and jeer and flout; Our answer may show lack of breeding, But there it is--a plain "Get out." If one should, thinking I am weak, Sir, Smite me on one cheek black and blue, I'm told to turn the other cheek, Sir, But not _both_ cheeks and forehead too. Year in, year out, they've tried to spite us, We've borne it with a sorry grin; And now--well, if they _want_ to fight us, Coat's off, and let the fun begin!