"But you have not tried, Nick."

"Yes, I have tried and failed, and tried again and then failed."

"Keep on trying," said velvet cap.

"A glass of liquor," resumed Baba, "is a trifling thing, and it is
very easy, you think, to cast it into the gutter. But I tell you,
whoever and whatever you are, that this sparkling and seductive drink
is the pygmy that binds the giant to the post with a thread, and
lashes him with thongs of fire.

"Try again," urged the Goblin, "I am sure you can regain all that you
have lost."

"No, no," moaned Nick, "I am too low down; I am an absolute slave to
rum."

"Baba," commanded the Goblin, "take up the shoe you have nearly
finished, look into the sole and tell me what you see there. It is a
mirror of the past."

Nick took the shoe from the floor and gazed at it intently for a few
seconds. He was agitated, and his powerful breast heaved as only a
strong man may be moved--he wept.

"What do you see? Speak!" said his tormentor.

"I see," responded Nick, mechanically, "a scene of seven years ago. It
is the image of a fair-haired, blue-eyed girl before the altar in her