before the mayor of goblinland

as the days passed bob became more and more disgruntled, more and more dissatisfied with things in goblinville. the bare thought of food-tablets and drink-pellets disgusted and nauseated him; and he could hardly swallow them at all. the young goblins would not, could not, play the games he liked to play. they were too small for one reason; and, then, as it did not please them to do so, they were not permitted to do so. and the boy was without youthful companionship. the only associates he had were his faithful companion fitz mee and the officers of the town, who were always at his elbow to see that he did what pleased him. this constant espionage became simply unbearable; and the lad grew peevish, gloomy; desperate. at last he broke down and tearfully confessed to his comrade:

“fitz, i want to go back home; i do—i do! i can’t stand it here any longer. it isn’t at all what i thought it would be like; and i’m homesick!”

fitz mee did not laugh; he did not smile, even. on the contrary he looked very grave—and a little sad.

[174]

“so you’re homesick, bob—eh?” he said.

“yes, i am, fitz.”

“and you desire to go home?”

“uh-huh.”

“you don’t like things here in goblinville?”

“no, i don’t.”

“what is it you object to?”

“oh, everything!”

“but especially?”

“well, the—the pills, i guess.”

“oh!” joyfully. “is that all, bob? we can fix that all right. i’ll get a special permit from the mayor—he’s a political friend of mine,—to let me prepare you food like you’ve been accustomed to. then you’ll be as happy as a clam, won’t you?”

“i—i don’t hardly know, fitz; no, i don’t think i will.”

“what!”

“uk-uh.”

“well, what else is wrong, then?”

the goblin’s pop eyes were dancing with mischief.

“i don’t like to be compelled to do what pleases me,” bob confessed shamefacedly.

“ho, ho!” laughed fitz mee.

“oh, you can laugh!” the boy cried, in weak irritation. “but i don’t!”

[175]

“you said it would just suit you, bob—before you came here,” fitz chuckled hoarsely, holding his sides and rocking to and fro.

“i know i did; but i’d never tried it.”

“and you don’t like it?”

“no, indeed,” bob answered very earnestly.

“and you’re homesick, and want to go home?”

the boy nodded, his eyes downcast.

“all the goblins’ll laugh at you, if you go to leave goblinville.”

“well, let ’em; i don’t care.”

“and your people and your schoolmates will laugh at you, when you return home.”

bob was silent, deeply pondering.

“don’t you care?” fitz mee asked, cackling explosively.

“yes, i do! but i’ve got to go, anyhow; i’ll die here.”

“oh, no, you won’t, bob,” said the goblin, teasingly.

“i will, too,” said bob, desperately in earnest; “i know.”

“you’ll have to go to school, if you return home.”

“i don’t mind that; i’ll have other boys to play with, anyhow.”

“yes, but you’ll have to obey the teacher.”

“i know.”

“and you’ll have to do what pleases your parents.”

“i know that, too.”

[176]

“and you won’t be permitted to do what pleases yourself.”

“i know; i’ve thought it all over, fitz.”

“and yet you wish to return home?”

“yes, i do.”

fitz mee laughed gleefully, uproariously, irrationally, laughed till the tears coursed down his cheeks and his fat features were all a-quiver.

“ho, ho!” he gasped at last. “roberty-boberty, you’re not the same boy you were, not at all; you’re not half as high and mighty. what’s come over you, hey?”

“i’ve—i’ve learned something, i—i guess, fitz.”

“oh, you have!”

“uh-huh.”

“what?”

“i’m not going to say,” replied bob, grinning sheepishly; “but i think i know what you brought me to goblinland for.”

“what for?”

“w-e-ll, to—to teach me what i’ve learned. didn’t you?”

“i’m not going to say,” mimicked the goblin.

then both tittered.

“and you’re bound to go back home, bob?” fitz pursued.

the boy nodded.

“if you’re rested now, we’ll resume our sight-seeing.” (see page 168.)

[177]

“you’re a pretty looking thing to go back to yankeeland—a little mite of a human like you!” sneeringly.

“oh, fitz!” the lad wailed. “can’t i be made a real boy again?”

the goblin impressively shook his head.

“i don’t know,” he said slowly. “you see you’ve taken so many gob-tabs it’s very doubtful whether you can be changed back into a boy at all.”

“oh, fitz, don’t say that!”—greatly distressed.

“of course, if you were put on human diet for a long time, you might come out all right,”—reflectively.

“but can’t i take something that will change me quick—right away?”

again the goblin shook his head.

“i doubt it,” he murmured. “giant-tabs would make a giant of you; and you don’t want to be a giant.”

“no, i don’t.”

“well, i guess, then, if you want to go back home right away, you’ll have to go just as you are.”

“oh, fitz!” almost blubbering. “i don’t want to go back home this way; i just can’t! can’t you give me something that will—will stretch me and swell me to boy size—just to boy size? can’t you—can’t you?”

[178]

“i don’t know,”—with a gloomy shake of the head; “i never heard of such a drug or chemical, but it’s barely possible our chemists may know of something of the kind. i’ll see about it. but here’s a difficulty.”

“what? what, fitz?”

“why, as you know, there’s no means of getting out of goblinland except by balloon; and i doubt if my balloon will carry you at full and normal weight.”

“but can’t you get a bigger one?”

“i might have one made; i don’t—”

“oh, no—no, fitz!” the boy interrupted frantically. “don’t think of doing that; i can’t wait. can’t you borrow a bigger one?”

“there are no bigger ones, except the mayor’s state balloon. it has two feather beds lashed together for a bag, and a very large car.”

“can’t you get it—can’t you get it, fitz?”

“i don’t know, indeed. then, here’s another difficulty, bob, and a greater one to my mind.”

“oh, fitz!” the boy moaned, wringing his hands. “you don’t mean it!”

“yes, i do,” said the goblin, nodding gravely; but his twinkling pop eyes belied his words. “you see, bob, you’re the first human being that has ever come to goblinland. now, the secrets of the[179] country—including the secret of its whereabouts, have always been carefully guarded. i don’t know what his honor, the mayor, will say about letting you go.”

“i won’t tell anything, fitz, i won’t—i won’t!”

“not a thing?” questioned fitz mee.

“no, sir—not a thing.”

“w-e-ll, i—i don’t know. what will you do, bob, if the mayor won’t let you go back home?”

“i’ll just die—that’s what!”

the goblin slapped his thin thighs and laughed and whooped, and laughed some more.

out of patience, the lad screamed: “laugh! laugh till you burst, you old convulsions! you old spasms! you old hysterics! yeah! yeah!”

and fitz mee did laugh—till he was entirely out of breath and panting and wheezing like a bellows. when at last he had regained control of himself, he whispered brokenly:

“bob, we’ll—we’ll go and see—the mayor.”

and they caught up their caps and were off.

“so you wish to go home, boy—eh?” said the mayor, the august ruler of goblinville and all adjacent territory, as soon as the two were ushered into his presence.

[180]

“yes, sir,” bob answered humbly. then, with boyish inquisitiveness: “but how did you know it?”

“never mind,” was the gruff reply. “it will please you to return home will it?”

“yes, sir, indeed it will.”

“then you must go. be off at once.”

“but—but—” bob began.

“i’ll fix all that,” his honor interrupted, quickly divining what the boy meant to say. “i’m as anxious to be rid of you as you are to be gone. you’ve stirred up a pretty rumpus here—you have. you’re the first human boy that ever came into my domain; and you’ll be the last. but i trust your experience has done you good—eh?”

bob nodded.

“very well, then. sign this pledge that you won’t reveal what you’ve seen and learned, and that you’ll take the lesson to heart.”

bob gladly signed the pledge.

“now,” continued the mayor, his eyes snapping humorously, “these are the conditions under which you must leave my domain: i’ll call in the chemists and have them restore you to normal size; i’ve already communicated with them, and they assure me they can do it. then i’ll let the honorable and worthy fitz mee take my state balloon and carry you back to yankeeland. you will set out this afternoon at one o’clock. but one other thing i exact: you[181] must bear nothing away with you that you did not bring here with you.” and the mayor gave the boy a keen, meaningful look that the urchin could not interpret.

the chemists came in, three aged and bewhiskered goblins wearing long, black robes and silk skull caps.

“my good chemists,” said the mayor, “are you ready for the experiment?”

“all ready, your honor,” the eldest of the three made answer, bowing profoundly.

“to work, then,” the mayor commanded.

the younger two advanced and caught and held bob’s hands, their fingers upon his pulse. the eldest produced a tiny phial of thick, opalescent liquid.

“put out your tongue,” he said to the boy.

the lad unhesitatingly obeyed, and the aged and trembling chemist let a drop of the viscid liquid fall upon the tip of the youngster’s quivering organ of speech.

[182]

the effect was instantaneous and startling, if not marvelous. bob let out a mad bellow of pain, shaking his head and writhing and drooling. the mayor changed countenance and deprecatingly shook his head. fitz mee groaned aloud.

“draw in your tongue and shut your mouth and swallow!” the three savants simultaneously yelled at the boy.

bob reluctantly did as he was told; and immediately, instantaneously he was restored to normal size.

“whoopee!” shouted the chemists, embracing one another and indulging in mad capers and other manifestations of insane joy. “a success! a complete success!”

“thank goodness!” murmured fitz mee. “a success!”

“yes,” the mayor muttered drily, grimly, “a remarkable success—a too remarkable success! my good chemists, destroy what you have left of that stuff, and make no more at your peril. i’m not going to have any more boys manufactured in this country—a noisy, disturbing lot! you hear me!” then to fitz mee: “you take your departure from the public square at one o’clock, remember. the state balloon will be there in readiness. you’re excused.”

when the two comrades were again at fitz mee’s residence, bob remarked ingenuously:

“fitz, while you’re getting ready i’m going to gather up some of the gold nuggets i saw on the shore of the brook.”

[183]

“better not,” fitz replied, without looking up from his work.

“why?”

“i wouldn’t, if i were you—that’s all.”

“well, why?”

“they’re not yours.”

“i know. but you goblins make no use of them; and it wouldn’t be wrong—wouldn’t be stealing, would it?”

“no,” fitz mee mumbled, “it wouldn’t be robbery, exactly. but you heard what the mayor said.”

“what about?”

“that you weren’t to take anything away with you that you didn’t bring here with you.”

“yes, i heard him. is that what he meant?”

“to be sure.”

“well, why does he object to my taking a few old nuggets of gold that none of you will use?” said bob peevishly.

“for this reason, bob: you take that gold back to yankeeland, and tell where you got it—”

“but i won’t tell where i got it,” the lad interrupted.

unheeding, the goblin continued: “and your money-mad people will search out our country and conquer and ruin us.”

“oh, pshaw, fitz!”

“what i say is true, bob.”

[184]

but bob was neither convinced nor satisfied, and he resolved to have the nuggets at all hazard. where was the harm? the gold was of no value to the goblins; it would be of great value to him. and he wouldn’t say a word about where he got it—indeed he wouldn’t. he would take it; and no one would be the wiser or the poorer. so, while his comrade was busy at other things, he slipped out to the brookside and filled his pockets.

one o’clock came, the time of departure, and all goblinville, including the mayor and his officers, was out to see the aëronauts off upon their long voyage. the mayor shook hands with the two and wished them god-speed and the populace gave them three hearty cheers.

then the anchor was weighed, and they were off. slowly and majestically the great state balloon began to ascend. but when it had risen a hundred feet, bob, looking over the side of the car, became aware of a disturbance in the crowd beneath. he saw goblins excitedly running this way and that and a number of officers trundling a big black object on wheels across the public square.

“what’s the meaning of the rumpus, fitz?” the lad cried to his companion. “what’s that the officers have?”

“why,” fitz gasped, taking a hurried look beneath, “the officers are running out the dynamite gun!”

“and they’re training it upon our balloon—upon us!” bob whispered[185] hoarsely, his soul a prey to guilty fear. “what—what can it mean, fitz?”

then arose the voice of the mayor, bellowing:

“fitz mee, descend! come back! that boy can’t leave goblinland with his pockets full of gold! he has deceived us; he can’t leave goblinland at all. come down; or we’ll send a dynamite shell through the balloon-bag, and bring you down in a hurry.”

fitz gave a few strokes to the pump, and the big balloon came to a stop. bob sat silent, speechless at the dread result of his rash act.

“you’ve played the mischief—you have, bob taylor!” his companion snarled angrily, reproachfully. “and you’ll spend the balance of your days in goblinland—that’s what!”

“oh, dear!” the boy found voice to moan. “oh, dear!”

“hello!” fitz called over the side of the car. “hello, your honor!”

“hello!” answered the mayor.

“if i’ll make the boy throw the gold down to you, will that satisfy you?”

“no, it won’t!” came the hoarse and determined reply. “bring the young scamp back! he shall stay in goblinville!”

“i guess i won’t!” bob shouted, desperation spurring his courage. and he sprang to the air-tank and opened the cock. the balloon began to rise swiftly.

[186]

“oh, bob—bob!” fitz mee groaned. “what have you done? we’ll both be killed!”

“boom!” went the dynamite gun; and a shell tore through the balloon-bag, rending it asunder and sending goose feathers fluttering in all directions.

the car began to drop like a plummet. its occupants let it out shrill screeches of terror. then came the proverbial dull, sickening thud! bob felt the empty balloon—bag fall over him and envelop him; and then he lost consciousness.

“bob, crawl out of there.”

“fitz! fitz!” the boy cried, disentangling himself and struggling to his feet.

“fits!” laughed a big manly voice. “yes, i guess you’ve got ’em, bob; and you’ve rolled out of bed in one, and dragged the covers with you.”

[187]

bob blinked and rubbed his sleepy eyes. there stood his father in the doorway, grinning broadly;

“hustle into your clothes, laddie,” he said; “breakfast’s ready.”.