SCENE-Mr. PUNCH'S Sanctum. SEASON-The Eve of the New Year. Present, Father TIME, Mr. PUNCH, and TOBIAS. An Edisonian Phonograph, of the latest construction, is arranged, oracle-like, behind a curtain, the Sage and the Scythebearer have been experimenting therewith. Father Time (with emphasis). Wonderful!!! Mr. Punch. From you, who have witnessed so many wonders, that one word is a tremendous tribute which my young friend EDISON would mightily appreciate. Father Time (meditatively). Yes; I have seen many marvels-or what for awhile were esteemed such. But the mirific marvel of to-day has ever been the matter-of-course of to-morrow, or at most of the day after. A real nine-days'-wonder is indeed an exception. Still this latest of Yankee "notions" is a startler. My favourite Egyptians never achieved anything more surprising. Mr. Punch. You don't mean to say that your pets the Pyramid-builders did not forestall us poor moderns in this, as in most other things? Very good of them, I'm sure, to leave us something to discover! Father Time (drily). What to do with the Soudan, for example. You don't seem in a hurry to avail yourself of that privilege, however. Mr. Punch. Ah! I wonder now, were it possible to turn on the voice of RAMESES through this vocal cone, whether he could give the Marquis the straight tip about Suakin? Father Time. If Memnon himself could speak through the phonograph, in the very voice of oracular music with which he used to greet the rising sun in old Thebes, do you suppose that your Party potterers would heed it? Mr. Punch. Humph! Isn't it whispered that the Priests-the real politicians of the period-had something to do with that little Coptic "fakement; " that in fact the lips of the Vocal Memnon formed merely a convenient sort of phonograph for the official oracles-the SALISBURYS and SMITHS and STANHOPES of that day? Father Time. I perceive, Sir, that you know a thing or two. Mr. Punch. Otherwise, my KRONOS, it would hardly be worth your while to halt for an hour's chat with me on the very edge of the New Year. Pray give your glass another turn, though; I cannot part with you yet. And the other glass, dear Edax Rerum, turn that up likewise-no heel-taps, you know, here!-and let me fill it again. Father Time (sententiously). It is passing good-and too good to pass. (Drinks.) Your health, my Perennial One! You are not of an age, but for All Time, as BEN JONSON said of the other Immortal. "She" indeed! What was RIDER HAGGARD's two-thousand-year-old compared with the unquenchable " He-who-must-be-obeyed" of Fleet Street? Mr. Punch. You do me proud, Sir. But, by JovE!--beg pardon for naming that usurping parvenu !-you will have, my dear KRONOS, to look to your laurels, or your prescriptive rights and privileges, if this sort of thing goes on. Father Time. What do you mean, Mr. PUNCH? Mr. Punch. You know what EDGAR ALLAN POE says: "Science! true daughter of Old TIME thou art! Well, it seems to me, Father TIME, that your daughter is gradually depriving her sire of certain of his most cherished |