Mr. Punch was disgusted, and began to think longingly of home.
"I have made a pretty fair round of the world, but I suppose I ought to do a little more in Europe—after all, it has the first claim upon my consideration. Let me consider—I think I should like to see a Greek robber in Athens."
In a moment the Sage found himself in an Athenian hotel, with the proprietor bowing obsequiously before him.
"Not very classical," he murmured. "I wonder what it was like in the days when the dead languages were alive, if not kicking. How I should like to see Athens in the time of Helen the fairest of the fair in everything—save in her conduct to Menelaus!"
Before he had time for further thought, he found himself in the far past, and thus had an opportunity of comparing the old with the new.
"Very pretty, but, on my word, comfort was a secondary consideration. But I have neglected Spain. I wish to see the loveliest view in good old Wellington's Peninsula."
Mr. Punch had expected to be carried into one of the courts of the Alhambra, but, in lieu of this, he found himself gazing at a lady, beautiful beyond compare. For a moment he was so lost in admiration, that he almost forgot himself, and was about to kiss her. Remembering, however, that he was a married man, and that his better half might object to the very natural, but (under the circumstances) highly improper transaction, he paused, and changed his kiss into a beaming smile. He was a little chagrined, however, to notice that the beautiful creature was so intent upon watching some distant attraction, that she had no eyes for him, nor, in fact, for anyone else.
"What can she be looking at?" he murmured. "How lovely she is with her heightened colour, her parted lips, her soul beaming through her lustrous dark eyes!"
Then he uttered an exclamation of disgust when he found that the lady was giving her entire attention to a bull-fight!