," cried _Mr. Punch_, "I think that judgment of themselves out of
their own mouths settles the matter! I have done with them. Come, let
us seek some healthier place. Up we go!"

He seized hold of Old Father TIME as he spoke, and bounded with him
upwards suddenly into space. In another minute they were in search of
a brighter, a better, and a truer world.

[Illustration]

* * * * *

VISIT TO JUPITER.

Father TIME with his glorious guide dropped gently down. They found
themselves in the centre of a bare expanse of dry, grassy country,
broken here and there by sand-hills. On their right was the sea,
dotted with ships. Parties of men in red coats, and carrying in their
hands curiously-shaped sticks, were walking about in all directions.
They all looked very earnest, some of them were gloomy, some
positively furious. Occasionally they stopped, placed themselves in an
uncouth straddle-legged attitude, whirled their sticks, looked eagerly
towards the horizon, and then marched on again as solemnly as before.
One party in particular attracted the attention of Father TIME. It
was a large, mixed gathering of men, and women, and children. They
all moved or stood at a respectful distance from the central figure, a
benevolent-looking gentleman, with a flowing white beard. He too wore
a red coat, and carried a stick. A crowd of attendants bearing more
sticks followed him.

[Illustration]

"Let me explain," said the Arch-Provider of Merriment to his
companion, "this ground is known as Links; the game of 'Golf' is being
played. These gentlemen are golfers. The sticks they carry are called
clubs. That bearded old gentleman is the King of Jupiter, FOOZLER THE
FIFTH. He is playing his morning round. I will introduce you."

So saying, the King of all Clubs advanced with the Scythe-holder, and,
taking advantage of a moment when King FOOZLER, having made a long
shot, was in good humour, rapidly effected the necessary presentation.

"I know this game well," said _Mr. Punch_. "It is said to be much
played in my own country now. Permit me to have the honour of playing
one hole against your Majesty."

The King smiled a gracious assent. His ball had been already placed
for him on a little heap of sand about an inch high. He advanced
towards it, anxiously measured his distance, waved his club to and
fro over his ball as if in blessing, and then, swinging it through
the air, struck--nothing. The ball remai