Punch: Punch (83.1882)

r 11 HE Supreme Moment had arrived, and a wild shout of triumphant rejoicing went up from the Astronomers.

They were of all sorts and conditions, these last. A motley crew ; for among them were Statesmen, Poets, Finan-
ciers, Philosophers, and the larger and lesser lights of Science, Literature, and Art.

But with one accord they all swept their well-smoked seventy-five-inch reflectors on to the central wonder of the hour,
and watched the progress of the Great Transit in an attitude of inquiring but respectful awe.

It was a tremendous and memorable phenomenon. The internal contact of Ingress was over, and the dark body of
the living planet, that seemed to have a majestic wink in its eye, was now moving swiftly but splendidly across the illuminated
disc of the great world beyond.

“ Ach ! m.ein Gott ! but it is nicely I have focussed him ! ” shouted a burly German Chancellor, quite carried away
by the impressive brilliance of the spectacle. “ So ' I have him. See, he already corrects for us the political parallax.”

“ Extremely glad, my dear Chancellor, that he has induced you to admit the possibility of correcting anything.” It
was a Grand Old Man that spoke, and as he followed the remarkable object, now clearly defined in the very meridian of its
passage, he saluted it instinctively, through his eye-piece, with a friendly but courteous nod. “Ah,” he continued, following
the progress with reflective interest, “ we are very old friends, he and I ; and I think I may venture to add that for a period
of something like two-and-forty years I have seldom if ever had my eye off him. Hinc illi triumphi ! ”

“ Mais, sapristi, mon bon Williams, but you anticipate ! ” rejoined a portly Frenchman, whose arm .as s-till in a sling.
“ Triumphus, indeed ! Le vrai triomphe is not for one alone. Ilfaut que nous y soyons. Without us your year closes in a
fanfaronade. Oui. But it is only yet December. Do not promise yourself too much !

“ It is far better to promise yourself something in December than in May,” remarked a melancholy Astronomer in an
ample cloak and a sad voice.

There was an unsympathetic laugh from the scientific crowd, and the Speaker might have replied. But at that moment
the marvellous load-star of their speculations neared the further limit of the gleaming orb.

Once more, amid a breathless silence, a thousand seventy-five-inch reflectors were following the course of the mysti-
fying Planet.