“WE sweep the seas!-- We rule the restless foam! We struggle not for place or pelf, We fight for Home! Loud let the shout of ‘Victory!’ Ring on the fav’ring breeze,-- Down with the foe ten fathoms deep! WE sweep the seas!” “War!” said the Goblin, tossing its arms wildly as the sounds died away,--“War! Accursed, yet triumphant War! Think of it, YOU, with your millions! _Can_ you, _will_ you think of it without SPECULATING in the wide-spread misery it involves? Without making more MONEY on the traffic in blood? Without lending yourself and your wealth to wicked Contracts by which you steal from your Country’s government and line your own pockets? _Can_ you be true to the land in which you live? _Can_ you,--_will_ you boldly refuse to sell material assistance for your own personal advantage to your Country’s foes?” Lashed into a fit of nervous desperation McNason almost shouted: “I can! I can! And I will!” Whereupon the Goblin put on its conical cap. “You are coming round, McNason!” it observed encouragingly--“You are really coming round! I think you are better! Your temperature is lower--nearer the normal Principle! Principle is an excellent pulse--it’s firm and steady, and keeps the whole body going wholesomely! Very few have it nowadays, and as a natural consequence the statistics of insane and diseased persons show an alarming increase! Now,”--this with an oblique but not unfriendly leer--“Are you sure you feel well enough to go home?” “Sure--sure!”--and Josiah began to scramble out of bed in his excitement--“I’ll get my clothes on in a minute----” “Won’t you wait for Nurse Drat-Em-All?” suggested the Goblin with a chuckle, “She’ll be back directly!” “No--no--NO!” Here his voice faltered and died away as he discovered to his terror that he had no power to put his feet to the floor, nor could he reach his clothes. “Oh, I am so helpless!” he wailed--“So feeble and helpless! Oh dear, oh dear! What shall I do!” “Have a split soda!” said the Goblin--“In this dear sweet ‘Home’ it’s only sixpence! But if you put a B in it, it’s two shillings!” Half mad with impatience, Josiah wriggled about in the bed, turning his imploring eyes on the relentless Goblin, who, perched on the quilt, was beginning to elongate itself in the most leisurely manner. “I suppose you want to keep Christmas now!” it remarked presently--“And you’re in a hurry to begin. Is that it?” “Yes--yes, that’s it!” stuttered Josiah, “You’ll take me, won’t you--you’ll take me----”