ARRIVED IN GOBLINLAND

All that day and all that night the two daring adventurers traveled steadily and directly north-eastward, and at the dawn of the next day they were floating high over western China. The air was thin and penetrating and both were shivering with cold.

Fitz Mee, standing upon the locker and watching the sunrise through the binocular, observed:

“We’re almost to our journey’s end, Bob.”

“Almost to Goblinland?” the boy queried.

“Yes; I can see it.”

“Where—where?” Bob cried eagerly, mounting to his comrade’s side.

“See that mountain top a little to the left yonder?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s Goblinland.”

“Oo—h!” Bob muttered. “It must be a pretty cold place to live.” And his teeth chattered sympathetically at the thought.

“No, it isn’t,” the goblin assured him. “You see Goblinland is really the crater of a volcano.”

[144]

“The crater of a volcano?” said Bob, in mild consternation.

“Yes,” Fitz laughed. “But you needn’t be alarmed, Bob; it’s an extinct volcano. Still the crust over it is so thin that the ground is always warm and the climate mild. Now we’re getting right over the place. Release the selector and pump up the air-tank; and we’ll soon cast anchor in port.”

As they slowly descended Bob swept his eyes here and there, greedily taking in the scene. Goblinland was indeed the crater of an immense ancient volcano. The great pit was several miles in diameter and several hundred feet in depth, walled in by perpendicular cliffs of shiny, black, volcanic rock. Through the middle of this natural amphitheater ran a clear mountain brook; and on either side of the stream, near the center of the plain, were the rows of tiny stone houses constituting Goblinville. Shining white roadways wound here and there, graceful little bridges spanned the brook, and groves of green trees and beds of blooming flowers were everywhere.

“How beautiful!” Bob exclaimed involuntarily.

“Yes,” the goblin nodded, his eyes upon the village below, “to me, at least; it’s my home.”

“I know now why you goblins always travel in balloons,” the lad remarked; “you can’t get out of your country in any other way.”

Again Fitz Mee nodded absent-mindedly. Then he said: “My people are out to welcome us, Bob. Look down there in the public square.”

[145]

The boy did as directed. “What a lot of ’em, Fitz!” he tittered gleefully. “And what bright-colored clothes they wear—red and green and blue and all colors!”

“Yes,” Fitz Mee answered. Then, after a momentary pause: “The mayor will be present to greet us, Bob. He’ll make a speech; and you must be very polite and respectful. See them waving at us—and hear them cheering!”

A few minutes later the balloon had touched the earth and eager hands had grasped the anchor-rope.

“Hello! Hello, Fitz Mee! Welcome home, Fitz Mee!” were the hearty greetings that arose on all sides.

Fitz Mee stepped to the ground, bowing and smiling, and Bob silently followed his example. The balloon was dragged away and the populace closed in upon the new arrivals, elbowing and jostling one another and chuckling and cackling immoderately.

“Shake!” they cried. “Give us a wag of your paw, Fitz Mee! Shake, Bob Taylor!”

There were goblins great and goblins small, goblins short and goblins tall; goblins fat and goblins lean, goblins red and goblins green; goblins young and goblins old, goblins timid, goblins bold; goblins dark and goblins fair—goblins, goblins everywhere!

Bob was much amused at their cries and antics and just a little[146] frightened at their exuberant friendliness. Fitz Mee shook hands with all comers, and chuckled and giggled good-naturedly.

“Out of the way!” blustered a hoarse voice. “Out of the way for his honor, the mayor!”

A squad of rotund and husky goblins, in blue police uniforms and armed with maces, came forcing in their way through the packed crowd. Immediately behind them was the mayor, a pursy, wrinkled old fellow wearing a long robe of purple velvet. The officers cleared a space for him, and he advanced and said pompously:

“Welcome, Fitz Mee, known the world over as the Little Green Goblin of Goblinville. I proclaim you the bravest, if not the speediest, messenger and minister Goblinland has ever known. Again, welcome home; and welcome to your friend and comrade, Master Robert Taylor of Yankeeland. I trust that he will find his stay[147] among us pleasant, and that he will in no way cause us to regret that we have made the experiment of admitting a human being—and a boy at that!—to the sacred precincts of Goblinville. The freedom of the country and the keys of the city shall be his. Once more, a sincere and cordial welcome.”

Then to the officers: “Disperse the populace, and two of you escort the Honorable Fitz Mee and his companion to their dwelling-place, that they may seek the rest they greatly need after so arduous a journey.”

The officers promptly and energetically carried out the orders of their chief.

When Fitz and Bob were alone in the former’s house, the latter remarked:

“Fitz, I believe I’ll like to live in Goblinville.”

“I—I hope you will, Bob,” was the rather disappointing reply.

“Hope I will? Don’t you think I will, Fitz?”

“I don’t know; boys are curious animals.”

“Well, I think I will. You know you said I could do as I pleased here.”

“Yes.”

“Say, Fitz?”

“Well.”

“How does it come that you goblins speak my language?”

[148]

“We speak any language—all languages.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Why, how do you learn so many?”

“We don’t have to learn ’em; we just know ’em naturally—as we know everything else we know at all.”

“My, that’s great! You don’t have to go to school, not study, nor anything, do you?”

“No.”

“I wish I was a goblin.”

“But you’re not,” laughed Fitz Mee; “and you never will be.”

“But I’ll be a man some day, and that will be better.”

“Maybe you will.”

“Maybe?”

“You’ll never be a man if you stay in Goblinland.”

“I won’t?”

“No.”

“Won’t I ever grow any?”

“Not as long as you stay in Goblinland—and eat our kind of food.”

“Well, I’ll get older, and then I’ll be a man, or a goblin, or something—won’t I?”

“You’ll still be a boy.”

[149]

“Pshaw!” Bob pouted. “I don’t like that. You told me I could be what I pleased in Goblinland.”

“No, I didn’t,” Fitz Mee returned quietly but firmly. “I told you that in our country boys—meaning goblin boys, of course—were compelled to do what pleased them and were not permitted to do what pleased others. That law or custom is still in effect; and you, as a human boy, will be subject to it.”

“And I can do anything that pleases me?”

“You can’t do anything else.”

“Good!” Bob shouted gleefully. “I guess I’ll like Goblinland all right; and I don’t care if I do stay a boy. Am I the first human boy that ever got into your country, Fitz?”

“You’re the first human being of any kind that ever set foot in Goblinland.”

“Is that so? Well, I’ll try not to make your people sorry you brought me here, Fitz.”

“That’s all right, Bob,” his companion made reply, a little dejectedly, the boy thought. “And what would you like to do first—now that you are in a land that is absolutely new to you?”

“Fitz, I’d like to take a good long sleep.”

“That would please you?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“More than anything else, for the present?”

[150]

“Yes.”

“All right. Off to bed you go. You’ll find a couch in the next room. Go in there and tumble down.”

“I will pretty soon.”

“But you must go now.”

“Must go now? Why?”

“Because it’s the law in Goblinland that a boy shall do what he pleases—and at once.”

“Well, I won&............