“I won’t take it.”
“Why won’t you?”
“’Cause I won’t—that’s why. Think I want to live on pills? I don’t like ’em.”
“Are you afraid to take it?”
“No, I—I’m not. But it wouldn’t shrink my clothes, if I did take it.”
“Yes, it will. Look at your night-gown.”
Bob picked up his discarded night-robe and closely examined it. It was not larger than a doll’s dress. The lad grinned sheepishly, and began to hustle into his garments. They were a world too large for him, and hung upon his shrunken limbs in a baggy and outlandish fashion. His shoes were ten sizes too big; his cap rested upon his shoulders.
“Huh!” he muttered in disgust; “I look like a scarecrow.”
“Here!” the goblin said, soberly. “Take another tablet.”
Bob shook his head.