In the Yule-Log Glow, Book II | Page 5

the weed," said the baron; "I haven't taken my usual quantity by four bottles yet."
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you, that's all. I don't think you'll find it unpleasant, though it is rather strong when you're not accustomed to it." So saying, the goblin produced from some mysterious pocket a black, big-bellied bottle, crusted, apparently, with the dust of ages.
It did strike the baron as peculiar, that the bottle, when once produced, appeared nearly as big round as the goblin himself; but he was not the sort of man to stick at trifles, and he pushed forward his glass to be filled just as composedly as if the potion had been shipped and paid duty, in the most commonplace way.
The glass was filled and emptied, but the baron uttered not his opinion. Not in words, at least, but he pushed forward his glass to be filled again in a manner that sufficiently bespoke his approval.
"Aha! you smile!" said the goblin. And it was a positive fact; the baron was smiling; a thing he had not been known to do in the memory of the oldest inhabitant. "That's the stuff to make your hair curl, isn't it?"
"I believe you, my b-o-o-oy!" The baron brought out this earnest expression of implicit confidence with true unction. "It warms one here!"
Knowing the character of the man, one would have expected him to put his hand upon his stomach. But he didn't; he laid it upon his heart.
"The spell begins to operate, I see," said the goblin. "Have another glass?"
The baron had another glass, and another after that.
The smile on his face expanded into an expression of such geniality that the whole character of his countenance was changed, and his own mother wouldn't have known him. I doubt myself--inasmuch as she died when he was exactly a year and three months old--whether she would have recognized him under any circumstances; but I merely wish to express that he was changed almost beyond recognition.
"Upon my word," said the baron, at length, "I feel so light I almost think I could dance a hornpipe. I used to, once, I know. Shall I try?"
"Well, if you ask my advice," replied the goblin, "I should say, decidedly, don't. 'Barkis is willing,' I dare say, but trousers are weak, and you might split 'em."
"Hang it all," said the baron, "so I might. I didn't think of that. But still I feel as if I must do something juvenile!"
"Ah! that's the effect of your change of nature," said the goblin. "Never mind, I'll give you plenty to do presently."
"Change of nature! What do you mean, you old conundrum?" said the baron.
"You're another," said the goblin. "But never mind. What I mean is just this. What you are now feeling is the natural consequence of my magic wine, which has changed you into a fairy. That's what's the matter, sir."
"A fairy! me!" exclaimed the baron. "Get out. I'm too fat."
"Fat! Oh! that's nothing. We shall put you in regular training, and you'll soon be slim enough to creep into a lady's stocking. Not that you'll be called upon to do anything of the sort; but I'm merely giving you an idea of your future figure."
"No, no," said the baron; "me thin! that's too ridiculous. Why, that's worse than being a fairy. You don't mean it, though, do you? I do feel rather peculiar."
"I do, indeed," said the visitor. "You don't dislike it, do you?"
"Well, no, I can't say I do, entirely. It's queer, though, I feel so uncommon friendly. I feel as if I should like to shake hands or pat somebody on the back."
"Ah!" said the goblin, "I know how it is. Rum feeling, when you're not accustomed to it. But come; finish that glass, for we must be off. We've got a precious deal to do before morning, I can tell you. Are you ready?"
"All right," said the baron. "I'm just in the humor to make a night of it."
"Come along, then," said the goblin.
They proceeded for a short time in silence along the corridors of the old castle. They carried no candle, but the baron noticed that everything seemed perfectly light wherever they stood, but relapsed into darkness as soon as they had passed by. The goblin spoke first.
"I say, baron, you've been an uncommon old brute in your time, now, haven't you?"
"H'm," said the baron, reflectively; "I don't know. Well, yes, I rather think I have."
"How jolly miserable you've been making those two young people, you old sinner! You know who I mean."
"Eh, what? You know that, too?" said the baron.
"Know it; of course I do. Why, bless your heart, I know everything, my dear boy. But you have made yourself an old tyrant in that quarter, considerably. Ar'n't you blushing, you hard-hearted old monster?"
"Don't know, I'm