OUR old Friend Mr. Hind having introduced another new planet (the ninth discovered by him) to the notice of mortals, the announcement was received by all the sidereal bodies with the greatest satisfaction, and indeed so greatly increased the perturbations under which some of them habitually labour, that Zadkiel has been compelled to publish a supplement to his Almanack, and to predict the arrival of the Greek kalends, the destruction of the Thames by fire, and, simultaneously with these events, the extinction of Punch. Saturn, in particular, who considers that the calumnious report of his having devoured his own children had its origin in our ignorance of the existence of those children, as a group of asteroids between Mars and Jupiter, and who is consequently delighted whenever by the discovery of such asteroids his character is cleared, was so overcome with joy, that no child born during the past week will ever be injured in after life by this generally malignant planet.
Many of the stars, moreover, feeling that something was due to Mr. Hind for his persevering efforts on their behalf, resolved to call a public meeting to consider the best means of expressing their gratitude. The Pleiades, as occupying the centre of the universe, kindly offered their rooms for the purpose; and Merope, whose marriage with a mortal caused her to lose half her brightness, and brought upon her frequent snubbings from her sisters, brightened up again on perceiving that her haughty relatives were disposed to patronise one of her husband's race. The meeting was numerously attended, but excuses were received from some of the more distant stars, who alleged that if they travelled at the rate of 12,000,000 of miles per minute they could not arrive until 4,000 years after the meeting had broken up. The Great Bear pleaded illness as an excuse for non-attendance; and it was whispered that mortification at the ill success of Prince Gortschakoff had brought on a fit of the gout. Many of the Nebulæ arrived from a great distance, and were accommodated with seats in the Strangers Gallery; but we regretted to observe that their uncouth forms laid them open to the silly remarks of Capricorn, who certainly cannot boast of his own personal attractions, and of Jupiter's satellites, who, though they are bound to amuse their master, should have known better than to insult foreigners. In the Reporters' Gallery the Gemini attended for the Herald and Standard, but could only muster one pen between them; Taurus appeared for the Conservative weeklies, and Sirius (Toby is en rapport with Sirius, and always howls when he sees him,) kindly undertook to report for Punch.
After an absurd attempt on the part of a clique to thrust the sun of our system into the chair, Alcyone, who is at present the centre of gravity round which the whole universe revolves, was selected for that important office, and immediately called upon "her excellent friend Mercury," for the first and only resolution. The facundus nepos Atlantis thus adjured, in a speech replete with eloquence, moved, "That this meeting, viewing with extreme displeasure the practice of associating the newly discovered sidereal bodies with the names of persons who have had no share in the discovery, proposes to call the nine planets, discovered by Mr. Hind, by the common name of Hind's Night Lights, as a small mark of the grateful feelings entertained for that astronomer throughout the sidereal system." This resolution, having been briefly seconded by Aldebaran, was put and carried unanimously; and, after the customary vote of thanks to Alcyone, the stars returned to their orbits; but not until the nine planets aforesaid, who, dressed in white, had been seated in a row on the platform, had induced Pollux to take round a castor, and make a collection for their support. We ought also to state that the well-known Music of the Spheres was in attendance, and gave great satisfaction by its performance of "Vaga Luna," "Oft in the Stilly Night," "Rise Gentle Moon," and other airs set for "Voices of the Night." When Mercury alluded to the disappearance of two stars from the constellations—Hercules and Lyra—these celestial voices sang "The Light of Other Days" with much taste. Indeed, the taste for singing which Shakspere ascribed to the stars is in no way diminished, for the whole meeting, on breaking up, joined very nicely in
"We won't go home till morning
Till daylight doth appear."
A GREAT ANCHOVY CASE.
"Burgess and Son," whose name will go down to posterity in a cruet-stand, have lately been throwing their fish-sauce into Chancery, and an equity judge has been discussing the essence of anchovies with a gusto quite remarkable. The barristers engaged in the matter have doubtless verified the fact, that little fish are sweet, for the anchovies have of course yielded some pretty little fees to pretty little juniors. Messrs. Campbell and Moore were on one side, while Mr. Bacon and Mr. Nelson represented the anchovies on the other side, and counsel pushed about the anchovy bottle from the Court below to the Court above, with a determination to bring the sauce of Burgess to the very fountain of equity. The great anchovy case has been already before the Vice Chancellor and the Lords Justices, but whether the parties will carry their "sauce" up to the Lords is at present dependent probably on how they may be "advised" by learned counsel to go on expending money in litigation, or "if not why not," or "how otherwise."