y who doesn't believe in fairies, nor in giants, nor in
goblins, nor in anything the story-books tell you."

Now the truth was that Davy, having never met any giants when he was out
walking, nor seen any fairies peeping out of the bushes in the garden,
nor found any goblins sitting on the bedposts about the house, had come
to believe that all these kinds of people were purely imaginary beings,
so that now he could do nothing but stare at the little man in a
shamefaced sort of way and wonder what was coming next.

"Now, all that," said the little man, shaking his finger at him in a
reproving way,--"all that is very foolish and very wrong. I'm a goblin
myself,--a hobgoblin,--and I've come to take you on a Believing Voyage."

"Oh, if you please, I can't go!" cried Davy, in great alarm at this
proposal; "I can't, indeed. I haven't permission."

"Rubbish!" said the Goblin. "Ask the Colonel."

Now, the Colonel was nothing more nor less than a silly-looking little
man, made of lead, that stood on the mantel-shelf holding a clock in his
arms. The clock never went, but, for that matter, the Colonel never
went either, for he had been standing stock-still for years, and it
seemed perfectly ridiculous to ask _him_ anything about going anywhere,
so Davy felt quite safe in looking up at him and asking permission to go
on the Believing Voyage. To his dismay the Colonel nodded his head, and
cried out, in a little, cracked voice:--

"Why, certainly!"

At this the Goblin jumped down off the knob of the andiron, and skipping
briskly across the room to the big Dutch clock, rapped sharply on the
front of the case with his knuckles, when, to Davy's amazement, the
great thing fell over on its face upon the floor as softly as if it had
been a feather-bed. Davy now saw that, instead of being full of weights
and brass wheels and curious works, as he had always supposed, the clock
was really a sort of boat, with a wide seat at each end; but, before he
had time to make any further discoveries, the Goblin, who had vanished
for a moment, suddenly reappeared, carrying two large sponge-cakes in
his arms. Now, Davy was perfectly sure that he had seen his grandmother
putting those very sponge-cakes into the oven to bake, but before he
could utter a word of remonstrance the Goblin clapped one into each
seat, and scrambling into the clock sat down upon the smaller one,
merely remarking:--

"They make prime cushions, you know, and we can eat 'em af