Funny a fellow always sees, wherever he may stray,
The same old sun his people see, some thousand miles away.
Pity a genius can't invent—the thing would surely pay—
A rapid transit vehicle attached to Solly's ray.
Many a plunger would be found who'd organize the scheme,
For travelling would be quicker far than "twenty per" by steam.
It's just a fancy, but to me it seems the missing link,
To couple up the hemispheres, of which they never think.
Professors think of radium, and devil-wagon things, A washer that the clothing automatically wrings. I offer this suggestion, it's a winner barring none— A thousand miles a minute with a trailer on the Sun.