"Fact is," pursued the Sage, "my young friend 'ARRY,
though smart and _fin de siecle_, in his way, is a little of 'the
earth, earthy,' and lacks both the adventurousness and the tact of
an Ixion."
"I presume," said the Scythe-bearer, "our inter-planetary
peregrinations are now pretty nearly at an end--for this time?"
"We have yet one more visit to pay," said _Mr. Punch_.
At this moment, as the space-pervading trio fleeted forward, a strange
unusual effulgence grew to the eastward, and began to bathe them in
golden light. Miraculously metamorphic was its action upon the aerial
travellers. _Mr. Punch_ flung aside his hat and his "Immensikoff,"
and appeared as the Apollo-like personage he really is. TOBY's wings
expanded, and his pace mended. As for "Old Father TIME" himself, the
combined influence of the regenerating philtre in _Faust_, and the
fire-bath in _She_, could not more completely have transmogrified
him. His face brightened with youthfulness, his solitary forelock
bushed out into a wavy and hyacinthine hirsute crop, his ancient and
magician-like garments fell from him, his plumes expanded, until he
looked more like "the herald Mercury" than old Edax Rerum.
Then they swung, as on airy _trapeze_, or on wings of the thunder-bird
strong,
With the sound in their ears of the voice of the starry and sisterly
throng.
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