Christmas stories; Didactic fiction; Ghost stories; Paranormal fiction; Religious fiction
“Certainly! I often use telephones! Capital things! They have to do
with the currents of the air, you know!--and other folks work on
currents of the air besides Humans! Humans aren’t the only people
in the universe! Don’t look so scared, McNason!--I won’t hurt you!
As I remarked before, when I rang you up just now, I wondered what
title I should take to ingratiate myself with you. You like titles,
I know!--you’ve been thinking of a Peerage for yourself--quite right
too! Get all you can, McNason!--get all you can that money will
buy! But as I never deal in Honours now, I couldn’t pass myself off
as a Duke or an Earl. The man that sells these things is more in
your line than mine. And I gave up brewing beer and running ‘party’
newspapers long ago, so I could hardly be a Lord. Besides Lords are
getting so common--frightfully common, McNason! In fact Lords are
becoming Commons! Oh, Beelzebub! Excuse the joke! And as for being a
‘Sir’--oh, hoo-roo, hoo-roo!” And the Goblin, untwisting itself, beat
its large paunch slowly in the fashion of a drum, evoking a dreary
hollow sound which almost made McNason cry--“Only a provincial Mayor
would accept it nowadays! I half thought I’d say I was a Colonel or
a General,--but then you’d have taken me for an American,--and I
wouldn’t be an American Bounder for twenty Next-Worlds! Then I decided
I would be ‘Professor.’ ‘Professor’ struck me as being quite the proper
thing;--nice-sounding, wise and imposing!--and anyone can call himself
a Professor--even a palmist who robs poor silly dupes of money for
telling their fortunes which neither he nor anybody knows! Hoo-roo!
Hoo-roo! What humbugs there are in the world, McNason! _You_ know that!
You’re one!”
“I’m not!” said Josiah, indignantly, aroused to sudden defiance. “How
dare you say I am!”
“How dare I!--How dare I!” crooned the Goblin, clasping its legs again
and rocking itself to and fro--“Oh, Beelzebub! How high and mighty we
are! I dare do anything, McNason! Anything! I’ll skin your soul!”
Josiah gave a smothered cry of terror. Such eyes as were now bent upon
him were like nothing in the world except railway signal lamps with the
light in them very much intensified and enlarged.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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