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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12122 ***
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE LADY OF THE BARGE
+AND OTHER STORIES
+
+By W. W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+THE MONKEY’S PAW
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of
+Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly.
+Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the
+game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and
+unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired
+old lady knitting placidly by the fire.
+
+“Hark at the wind,” said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake
+after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from
+seeing it.
+
+“I’m listening,” said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he
+stretched out his hand. “Check.”
+
+“I should hardly think that he’d come to-night,” said his father, with
+his hand poised over the board.
+
+“Mate,” replied the son.
+
+“That’s the worst of living so far out,” bawled Mr. White, with sudden
+and unlooked-for violence; “of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way
+places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway’s a bog, and the road’s a
+torrent. I don’t know what people are thinking about. I suppose because
+only two houses in the road are let, they think it doesn’t matter.”
+
+“Never mind, dear,” said his wife, soothingly; “perhaps you’ll win the
+next one.”
+
+Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance
+between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a
+guilty grin in his thin grey beard.
+
+“There he is,” said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and
+heavy footsteps came toward the door.
+
+The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard
+condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with
+himself, so that Mrs. White said, “Tut, tut!” and coughed gently as her
+husband entered the room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye
+and rubicund of visage.
+
+“Sergeant-Major Morris,” he said, introducing him.
+
+The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the
+fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers
+and stood a small copper kettle on the fire.
+
+At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the
+little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from
+distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke
+of wild scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange
+peoples.
+
+“Twenty-one years of it,” said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son.
+“When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look
+at him.”
+
+“He don’t look to have taken much harm,” said Mrs. White, politely.
+
+“I’d like to go to India myself,” said the old man, “just to look round
+a bit, you know.”
+
+“Better where you are,” said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He
+put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.
+
+“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers,” said
+the old man. “What was that you started telling me the other day about
+a monkey’s paw or something, Morris?”
+
+“Nothing,” said the soldier, hastily. “Leastways nothing worth
+hearing.”
+
+“Monkey’s paw?” said Mrs. White, curiously.
+
+“Well, it’s just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps,” said the
+sergeant-major, offhandedly.
+
+His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly
+put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host
+filled it for him.
+
+“To look at,” said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, “it’s
+just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy.”
+
+He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew
+back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.
+
+“And what is there special about it?” inquired Mr. White as he took it
+from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table.
+
+“It had a spell put on it by an old fakir,” said the sergeant-major, “a
+very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and
+that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a
+spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes
+from it.”
+
+His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their
+light laughter jarred somewhat.
+
+“Well, why don’t you have three, sir?” said Herbert White, cleverly.
+
+The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard
+presumptuous youth. “I have,” he said, quietly, and his blotchy face
+whitened.
+
+“And did you really have the three wishes granted?” asked Mrs. White.
+
+“I did,” said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his
+strong teeth.
+
+“And has anybody else wished?” persisted the old lady.
+
+“The first man had his three wishes. Yes,” was the reply; “I don’t know
+what the first two were, but the third was for death. That’s how I got
+the paw.”
+
+His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.
+
+“If you’ve had your three wishes, it’s no good to you now, then,
+Morris,” said the old man at last. “What do you keep it for?”
+
+The soldier shook his head. “Fancy, I suppose,” he said, slowly. “I did
+have some idea of selling it, but I don’t think I will. It has caused
+enough mischief already. Besides, people won’t buy. They think it’s a
+fairy tale; some of them, and those who do think anything of it want to
+try it first and pay me afterward.”
+
+“If you could have another three wishes,” said the old man, eyeing him
+keenly, “would you have them?”
+
+“I don’t know,” said the other. “I don’t know.”
+
+He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb,
+suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down
+and snatched it off.
+
+“Better let it burn,” said the soldier, solemnly.
+
+“If you don’t want it, Morris,” said the other, “give it to me.”
+
+“I won’t,” said his friend, doggedly. “I threw it on the fire. If you
+keep it, don’t blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again
+like a sensible man.”
+
+The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. “How
+do you do it?” he inquired.
+
+“Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud,” said the
+sergeant-major, “but I warn you of the consequences.”
+
+“Sounds like the _Arabian Nights_,” said Mrs. White, as she rose and
+began to set the supper. “Don’t you think you might wish for four pairs
+of hands for me?”
+
+Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst
+into laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face,
+caught him by the arm.
+
+“If you must wish,” he said, gruffly, “wish for something sensible.”
+
+Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned
+his friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was
+partly forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an
+enthralled fashion to a second instalment of the soldier’s adventures
+in India.
+
+“If the tale about the monkey’s paw is not more truthful than those he
+has been telling us,” said Herbert, as the door closed behind their
+guest, just in time for him to catch the last train, “we sha’nt make
+much out of it.”
+
+“Did you give him anything for it, father?” inquired Mrs. White,
+regarding her husband closely.
+
+“A trifle,” said he, colouring slightly. “He didn’t want it, but I made
+him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away.”
+
+“Likely,” said Herbert, with pretended horror. “Why, we’re going to be
+rich, and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin
+with; then you can’t be henpecked.”
+
+He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed
+with an antimacassar.
+
+Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. “I don’t
+know what to wish for, and that’s a fact,” he said, slowly. “It seems
+to me I’ve got all I want.”
+
+“If you only cleared the house, you’d be quite happy, wouldn’t you?”
+said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. “Well, wish for two
+hundred pounds, then; that ’ll just do it.”
+
+His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the
+talisman, as his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at
+his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.
+
+“I wish for two hundred pounds,” said the old man distinctly.
+
+A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a
+shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him.
+
+“It moved,” he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay
+on the floor.
+
+“As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake.”
+
+“Well, I don’t see the money,” said his son as he picked it up and
+placed it on the table, “and I bet I never shall.”
+
+“It must have been your fancy, father,” said his wife, regarding him
+anxiously.
+
+He shook his head. “Never mind, though; there’s no harm done, but it
+gave me a shock all the same.”
+
+They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes.
+Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started
+nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual
+and depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old
+couple rose to retire for the night.
+
+“I expect you’ll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of
+your bed,” said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, “and something
+horrible squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket
+your ill-gotten gains.”
+
+He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing
+faces in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed
+at it in amazement. It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh,
+he felt on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw
+over it. His hand grasped the monkey’s paw, and with a little shiver he
+wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over
+the breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of
+prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the
+previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the
+sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its
+virtues.
+
+“I suppose all old soldiers are the same,” said Mrs. White. “The idea
+of our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these
+days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you,
+father?”
+
+“Might drop on his head from the sky,” said the frivolous Herbert.
+
+“Morris said the things happened so naturally,” said his father, “that
+you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence.”
+
+“Well, don’t break into the money before I come back,” said Herbert as
+he rose from the table. “I’m afraid it’ll turn you into a mean,
+avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you.”
+
+His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the
+road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the
+expense of her husband’s credulity. All of which did not prevent her
+from scurrying to the door at the postman’s knock, nor prevent her from
+referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous
+habits when she found that the post brought a tailor’s bill.
+
+“Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he
+comes home,” she said, as they sat at dinner.
+
+“I dare say,” said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; “but for
+all that, the thing moved in my hand; that I’ll swear to.”
+
+“You thought it did,” said the old lady soothingly.
+
+“I say it did,” replied the other. “There was no thought about it; I
+had just—What’s the matter?”
+
+His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a
+man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house,
+appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental
+connection with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger
+was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he
+paused at the gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood
+with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open
+and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands
+behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put
+that useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.
+
+She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He
+gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the
+old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband’s
+coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then
+waited as patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his
+business, but he was at first strangely silent.
+
+“I—was asked to call,” he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece
+of cotton from his trousers. “I come from ‘Maw and Meggins.’”
+
+The old lady started. “Is anything the matter?” she asked,
+breathlessly. “Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is
+it?”
+
+Her husband interposed. “There, there, mother,” he said, hastily. “Sit
+down, and don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve not brought bad news, I’m
+sure, sir;” and he eyed the other wistfully.
+
+“I’m sorry—” began the visitor.
+
+“Is he hurt?” demanded the mother, wildly.
+
+The visitor bowed in assent. “Badly hurt,” he said, quietly, “but he is
+not in any pain.”
+
+“Oh, thank God!” said the old woman, clasping her hands. “Thank God for
+that! Thank—”
+
+She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned
+upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other’s
+averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted
+husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long
+silence.
+
+“He was caught in the machinery,” said the visitor at length in a low
+voice.
+
+“Caught in the machinery,” repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion,
+“yes.”
+
+He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife’s hand
+between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old
+courting-days nearly forty years before.
+
+“He was the only one left to us,” he said, turning gently to the
+visitor. “It is hard.”
+
+The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. “The firm
+wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great
+loss,” he said, without looking round. “I beg that you will understand
+I am only their servant and merely obeying orders.”
+
+There was no reply; the old woman’s face was white, her eyes staring,
+and her breath inaudible; on the husband’s face was a look such as his
+friend the sergeant might have carried into his first action.
+
+“I was to say that ‘Maw and Meggins’ disclaim all responsibility,”
+continued the other. “They admit no liability at all, but in
+consideration of your son’s services, they wish to present you with a
+certain sum as compensation.”
+
+Mr. White dropped his wife’s hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a
+look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, “How
+much?”
+
+“Two hundred pounds,” was the answer.
+
+Unconscious of his wife’s shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out
+his hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the
+floor.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried
+their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It
+was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and
+remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to
+happen —something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for
+old hearts to bear.
+
+But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation—the
+hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes
+they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about,
+and their days were long to weariness.
+
+It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the
+night, stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in
+darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He
+raised himself in bed and listened.
+
+“Come back,” he said, tenderly. “You will be cold.”
+
+“It is colder for my son,” said the old woman, and wept afresh.
+
+The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his
+eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden
+wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start.
+
+“_The paw!_” she cried wildly. “The monkey’s paw!”
+
+He started up in alarm. “Where? Where is it? What’s the matter?”
+
+She came stumbling across the room toward him. “I want it,” she said,
+quietly. “You’ve not destroyed it?”
+
+“It’s in the parlour, on the bracket,” he replied, marvelling. “Why?”
+
+She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.
+
+“I only just thought of it,” she said, hysterically. “Why didn’t I
+think of it before? Why didn’t _you_ think of it?”
+
+“Think of what?” he questioned.
+
+“The other two wishes,” she replied, rapidly. “We’ve only had one.”
+
+“Was not that enough?” he demanded, fiercely.
+
+“No,” she cried, triumphantly; “we’ll have one more. Go down and get it
+quickly, and wish our boy alive again.”
+
+The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs.
+“Good God, you are mad!” he cried, aghast.
+
+“Get it,” she panted; “get it quickly, and wish—Oh, my boy, my boy!”
+
+Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. “Get back to bed,” he
+said, unsteadily. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
+
+“We had the first wish granted,” said the old woman, feverishly; “why
+not the second?”
+
+“A coincidence,” stammered the old man.
+
+“Go and get it and wish,” cried his wife, quivering with excitement.
+
+The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. “He has been
+dead ten days, and besides he—I would not tell you else, but—I could
+only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to
+see then, how now?”
+
+“Bring him back,” cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door.
+“Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?”
+
+He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then
+to the mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear
+that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he
+could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as
+he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with
+sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until
+he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his
+hand.
+
+Even his wife’s face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was
+white and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look
+upon it. He was afraid of her.
+
+“_Wish!_” she cried, in a strong voice.
+
+“It is foolish and wicked,” he faltered.
+
+“_Wish!_” repeated his wife.
+
+He raised his hand. “I wish my son alive again.”
+
+The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he
+sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked
+to the window and raised the blind.
+
+He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the
+figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end,
+which had burned below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing
+pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker
+larger than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable
+sense of relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed,
+and a minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and
+apathetically beside him.
+
+Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock.
+A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall.
+The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up
+his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went
+downstairs for a candle.
+
+At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike
+another; and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be
+scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.
+
+The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood
+motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he
+turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind
+him. A third knock sounded through the house.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+“_What’s that?_” cried the old woman, starting up.
+
+“A rat,” said the old man in shaking tones—“a rat. It passed me on the
+stairs.”
+
+His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the
+house.
+
+“It’s Herbert!” she screamed. “It’s Herbert!”
+
+She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her
+by the arm, held her tightly.
+
+“What are you going to do?” he whispered hoarsely.
+
+“It’s my boy; it’s Herbert!” she cried, struggling mechanically. “I
+forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I
+must open the door.”
+
+“For God’s sake don’t let it in,” cried the old man, trembling.
+
+“You’re afraid of your own son,” she cried, struggling. “Let me go. I’m
+coming, Herbert; I’m coming.”
+
+There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden
+wrench broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the
+landing, and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He
+heard the chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and
+stiffly from the socket. Then the old woman’s voice, strained and
+panting.
+
+“The bolt,” she cried, loudly. “Come down. I can’t reach it.”
+
+But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor
+in search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside
+got in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house,
+and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the
+passage against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came
+slowly back, and at the same moment he found the monkey’s paw, and
+frantically breathed his third and last wish.
+
+The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in
+the house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold
+wind rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment
+and misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and
+then to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a
+quiet and deserted road.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12122 ***
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+</div>
+
+<h1>THE LADY OF THE BARGE<br/>
+AND OTHER STORIES</h1>
+
+<h2 class="no-break">By W. W. Jacobs</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>THE MONKEY’S PAW</h2>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>I.</h2>
+
+<p>
+Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa
+the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at
+chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical
+changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even
+provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Hark at the wind,” said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it
+was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’m listening,” said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he stretched
+out his hand. “Check.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I should hardly think that he’d come to-night,” said his father, with his hand
+poised over the board.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Mate,” replied the son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That’s the worst of living so far out,” bawled Mr. White, with sudden and
+unlooked-for violence; “of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way places to
+live in, this is the worst. Pathway’s a bog, and the road’s a torrent. I don’t
+know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses in the
+road are let, they think it doesn’t matter.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Never mind, dear,” said his wife, soothingly; “perhaps you’ll win the next
+one.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between
+mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a guilty grin in
+his thin grey beard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“There he is,” said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy
+footsteps came toward the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard
+condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with himself, so
+that Mrs. White said, “Tut, tut!” and coughed gently as her husband entered the
+room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Sergeant-Major Morris,” he said, introducing him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the fire,
+watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers and stood a
+small copper kettle on the fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the little
+family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from distant parts, as
+he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of wild scenes and
+doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange peoples.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Twenty-one years of it,” said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. “When he
+went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look at him.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He don’t look to have taken much harm,” said Mrs. White, politely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’d like to go to India myself,” said the old man, “just to look round a bit,
+you know.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Better where you are,” said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He put down
+the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers,” said the old
+man. “What was that you started telling me the other day about a monkey’s paw
+or something, Morris?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Nothing,” said the soldier, hastily. “Leastways nothing worth hearing.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Monkey’s paw?” said Mrs. White, curiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, it’s just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps,” said the
+sergeant-major, offhandedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly put his
+empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host filled it for him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“To look at,” said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, “it’s just an
+ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew back with
+a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And what is there special about it?” inquired Mr. White as he took it from his
+son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It had a spell put on it by an old fakir,” said the sergeant-major, “a very
+holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and that those who
+interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three
+separate men could each have three wishes from it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their light
+laughter jarred somewhat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, why don’t you have three, sir?” said Herbert White, cleverly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard
+presumptuous youth. “I have,” he said, quietly, and his blotchy face whitened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And did you really have the three wishes granted?” asked Mrs. White.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I did,” said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his strong
+teeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And has anybody else wished?” persisted the old lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The first man had his three wishes. Yes,” was the reply; “I don’t know what
+the first two were, but the third was for death. That’s how I got the paw.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you’ve had your three wishes, it’s no good to you now, then, Morris,” said
+the old man at last. “What do you keep it for?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The soldier shook his head. “Fancy, I suppose,” he said, slowly. “I did have
+some idea of selling it, but I don’t think I will. It has caused enough
+mischief already. Besides, people won’t buy. They think it’s a fairy tale; some
+of them, and those who do think anything of it want to try it first and pay me
+afterward.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you could have another three wishes,” said the old man, eyeing him keenly,
+“would you have them?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I don’t know,” said the other. “I don’t know.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, suddenly
+threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down and snatched it
+off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Better let it burn,” said the soldier, solemnly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you don’t want it, Morris,” said the other, “give it to me.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I won’t,” said his friend, doggedly. “I threw it on the fire. If you keep it,
+don’t blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again like a sensible
+man.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. “How do you
+do it?” he inquired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud,” said the sergeant-major, “but I
+warn you of the consequences.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Sounds like the <i>Arabian Nights</i>,” said Mrs. White, as she rose and began
+to set the supper. “Don’t you think you might wish for four pairs of hands for
+me?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst into
+laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught him by
+the arm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you must wish,” he said, gruffly, “wish for something sensible.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his
+friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was partly
+forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion to a
+second instalment of the soldier’s adventures in India.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If the tale about the monkey’s paw is not more truthful than those he has been
+telling us,” said Herbert, as the door closed behind their guest, just in time
+for him to catch the last train, “we sha’nt make much out of it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Did you give him anything for it, father?” inquired Mrs. White, regarding her
+husband closely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A trifle,” said he, colouring slightly. “He didn’t want it, but I made him
+take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Likely,” said Herbert, with pretended horror. “Why, we’re going to be rich,
+and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin with; then you
+can’t be henpecked.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with an
+antimacassar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. “I don’t know
+what to wish for, and that’s a fact,” he said, slowly. “It seems to me I’ve got
+all I want.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you only cleared the house, you’d be quite happy, wouldn’t you?” said
+Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. “Well, wish for two hundred pounds,
+then; that ’ll just do it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the talisman, as
+his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at his mother, sat down
+at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I wish for two hundred pounds,” said the old man distinctly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a shuddering cry
+from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It moved,” he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on the
+floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, I don’t see the money,” said his son as he picked it up and placed it on
+the table, “and I bet I never shall.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It must have been your fancy, father,” said his wife, regarding him anxiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He shook his head. “Never mind, though; there’s no harm done, but it gave me a
+shock all the same.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes.
+Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started nervously at
+the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and depressing settled
+upon all three, which lasted until the old couple rose to retire for the night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I expect you’ll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your bed,”
+said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, “and something horrible squatting up
+on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your ill-gotten gains.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces in it.
+The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it in amazement.
+It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt on the table for a
+glass containing a little water to throw over it. His hand grasped the monkey’s
+paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>II.</h2>
+
+<p>
+In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the
+breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic
+wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the
+dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness
+which betokened no great belief in its virtues.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I suppose all old soldiers are the same,” said Mrs. White. “The idea of our
+listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these days? And if
+they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Might drop on his head from the sky,” said the frivolous Herbert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Morris said the things happened so naturally,” said his father, “that you
+might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, don’t break into the money before I come back,” said Herbert as he rose
+from the table. “I’m afraid it’ll turn you into a mean, avaricious man, and we
+shall have to disown you.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the road;
+and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense of her
+husband’s credulity. All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to the
+door at the postman’s knock, nor prevent her from referring somewhat shortly to
+retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought
+a tailor’s bill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he comes
+home,” she said, as they sat at dinner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I dare say,” said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; “but for all that,
+the thing moved in my hand; that I’ll swear to.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You thought it did,” said the old lady soothingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I say it did,” replied the other. “There was no thought about it; I had
+just—What’s the matter?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a man
+outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared to be
+trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connection with the two hundred
+pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of
+glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate, and then walked on again.
+The fourth time he stood with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution
+flung it open and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her
+hands behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put that
+useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He gazed at
+her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized
+for the appearance of the room, and her husband’s coat, a garment which he
+usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as patiently as her sex would
+permit, for him to broach his business, but he was at first strangely silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I—was asked to call,” he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece of
+cotton from his trousers. “I come from ‘Maw and Meggins.’”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old lady started. “Is anything the matter?” she asked, breathlessly. “Has
+anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is it?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her husband interposed. “There, there, mother,” he said, hastily. “Sit down,
+and don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve not brought bad news, I’m sure, sir;” and
+he eyed the other wistfully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’m sorry—” began the visitor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Is he hurt?” demanded the mother, wildly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The visitor bowed in assent. “Badly hurt,” he said, quietly, “but he is not in
+any pain.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Oh, thank God!” said the old woman, clasping her hands. “Thank God for that!
+Thank—”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her
+and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other’s averted face.
+She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her
+trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He was caught in the machinery,” said the visitor at length in a low voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Caught in the machinery,” repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, “yes.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife’s hand between
+his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old courting-days nearly
+forty years before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He was the only one left to us,” he said, turning gently to the visitor. “It
+is hard.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. “The firm wished me
+to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss,” he said, without
+looking round. “I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and
+merely obeying orders.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no reply; the old woman’s face was white, her eyes staring, and her
+breath inaudible; on the husband’s face was a look such as his friend the
+sergeant might have carried into his first action.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I was to say that ‘Maw and Meggins’ disclaim all responsibility,” continued
+the other. “They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your son’s
+services, they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. White dropped his wife’s hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a look of
+horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, “How much?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Two hundred pounds,” was the answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Unconscious of his wife’s shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his hands
+like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>III.</h2>
+
+<p>
+In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried their
+dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It was all over
+so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and remained in a state
+of expectation as though of something else to happen —something else which was
+to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts to bear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation—the hopeless
+resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes they hardly
+exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and their days were
+long to weariness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the night,
+stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in darkness, and
+the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He raised himself in bed and
+listened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Come back,” he said, tenderly. “You will be cold.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It is colder for my son,” said the old woman, and wept afresh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his eyes
+heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden wild cry
+from his wife awoke him with a start.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“<i>The paw!</i>” she cried wildly. “The monkey’s paw!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He started up in alarm. “Where? Where is it? What’s the matter?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She came stumbling across the room toward him. “I want it,” she said, quietly.
+“You’ve not destroyed it?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s in the parlour, on the bracket,” he replied, marvelling. “Why?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I only just thought of it,” she said, hysterically. “Why didn’t I think of it
+before? Why didn’t <i>you</i> think of it?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Think of what?” he questioned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The other two wishes,” she replied, rapidly. “We’ve only had one.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Was not that enough?” he demanded, fiercely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“No,” she cried, triumphantly; “we’ll have one more. Go down and get it
+quickly, and wish our boy alive again.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs. “Good
+God, you are mad!” he cried, aghast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Get it,” she panted; “get it quickly, and wish—Oh, my boy, my boy!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. “Get back to bed,” he said,
+unsteadily. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“We had the first wish granted,” said the old woman, feverishly; “why not the
+second?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A coincidence,” stammered the old man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Go and get it and wish,” cried his wife, quivering with excitement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. “He has been dead ten
+days, and besides he—I would not tell you else, but—I could only recognize him
+by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to see then, how now?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Bring him back,” cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door. “Do you
+think I fear the child I have nursed?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then to the
+mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear that the
+unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he could escape from
+the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as he found that he had lost
+the direction of the door. His brow cold with sweat, he felt his way round the
+table, and groped along the wall until he found himself in the small passage
+with the unwholesome thing in his hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even his wife’s face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was white and
+expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it. He was
+afraid of her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“<i>Wish!</i>” she cried, in a strong voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It is foolish and wicked,” he faltered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“<i>Wish!</i>” repeated his wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He raised his hand. “I wish my son alive again.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he sank
+trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked to the
+window and raised the blind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the figure
+of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end, which had burned
+below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing pulsating shadows on the
+ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker larger than the rest, it expired. The
+old man, with an unspeakable sense of relief at the failure of the talisman,
+crept back to his bed, and a minute or two afterward the old woman came
+silently and apathetically beside him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A stair
+creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. The darkness
+was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, he took
+the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another;
+and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely
+audible, sounded on the front door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood motionless,
+his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he turned and fled
+swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. A third knock sounded
+through the house.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+<img src="images/002.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="[Illustration]" />
+</div>
+
+<p>
+“<i>What’s that?</i>” cried the old woman, starting up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A rat,” said the old man in shaking tones—“a rat. It passed me on the stairs.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s Herbert!” she screamed. “It’s Herbert!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by the
+arm, held her tightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“What are you going to do?” he whispered hoarsely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s my boy; it’s Herbert!” she cried, struggling mechanically. “I forgot it
+was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I must open the door.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“For God’s sake don’t let it in,” cried the old man, trembling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You’re afraid of your own son,” she cried, struggling. “Let me go. I’m coming,
+Herbert; I’m coming.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden wrench broke
+free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the landing, and called
+after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He heard the chain rattle back
+and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the socket. Then the old
+woman’s voice, strained and panting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The bolt,” she cried, loudly. “Come down. I can’t reach it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in
+search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside got in. A
+perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he heard the
+scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage against the door. He
+heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly back, and at the same moment
+he found the monkey’s paw, and frantically breathed his third and last wish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the
+house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold wind rushed
+up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and misery from his
+wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and then to the gate beyond. The
+street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12122 ***</div>
+</body>
+
+</html>
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+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #12122 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12122)
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Monkey’s Paw, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Monkey’s Paw
+       The Lady of the Barge and Others, Part 2.
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: April 22, 2004 [eBook #12122]
+[Most recently updated: October 28, 2023]
+
+Language: English
+
+Produced by: David Widger
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONKEY’S PAW ***
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE LADY OF THE BARGE
+AND OTHER STORIES
+
+By W. W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+THE MONKEY’S PAW
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of
+Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly.
+Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the
+game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and
+unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired
+old lady knitting placidly by the fire.
+
+“Hark at the wind,” said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake
+after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from
+seeing it.
+
+“I’m listening,” said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he
+stretched out his hand. “Check.”
+
+“I should hardly think that he’d come to-night,” said his father, with
+his hand poised over the board.
+
+“Mate,” replied the son.
+
+“That’s the worst of living so far out,” bawled Mr. White, with sudden
+and unlooked-for violence; “of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way
+places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway’s a bog, and the road’s a
+torrent. I don’t know what people are thinking about. I suppose because
+only two houses in the road are let, they think it doesn’t matter.”
+
+“Never mind, dear,” said his wife, soothingly; “perhaps you’ll win the
+next one.”
+
+Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance
+between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a
+guilty grin in his thin grey beard.
+
+“There he is,” said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and
+heavy footsteps came toward the door.
+
+The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard
+condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with
+himself, so that Mrs. White said, “Tut, tut!” and coughed gently as her
+husband entered the room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye
+and rubicund of visage.
+
+“Sergeant-Major Morris,” he said, introducing him.
+
+The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the
+fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers
+and stood a small copper kettle on the fire.
+
+At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the
+little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from
+distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke
+of wild scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange
+peoples.
+
+“Twenty-one years of it,” said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son.
+“When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look
+at him.”
+
+“He don’t look to have taken much harm,” said Mrs. White, politely.
+
+“I’d like to go to India myself,” said the old man, “just to look round
+a bit, you know.”
+
+“Better where you are,” said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He
+put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.
+
+“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers,” said
+the old man. “What was that you started telling me the other day about
+a monkey’s paw or something, Morris?”
+
+“Nothing,” said the soldier, hastily. “Leastways nothing worth
+hearing.”
+
+“Monkey’s paw?” said Mrs. White, curiously.
+
+“Well, it’s just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps,” said the
+sergeant-major, offhandedly.
+
+His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly
+put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host
+filled it for him.
+
+“To look at,” said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, “it’s
+just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy.”
+
+He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew
+back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.
+
+“And what is there special about it?” inquired Mr. White as he took it
+from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table.
+
+“It had a spell put on it by an old fakir,” said the sergeant-major, “a
+very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and
+that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a
+spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes
+from it.”
+
+His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their
+light laughter jarred somewhat.
+
+“Well, why don’t you have three, sir?” said Herbert White, cleverly.
+
+The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard
+presumptuous youth. “I have,” he said, quietly, and his blotchy face
+whitened.
+
+“And did you really have the three wishes granted?” asked Mrs. White.
+
+“I did,” said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his
+strong teeth.
+
+“And has anybody else wished?” persisted the old lady.
+
+“The first man had his three wishes. Yes,” was the reply; “I don’t know
+what the first two were, but the third was for death. That’s how I got
+the paw.”
+
+His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.
+
+“If you’ve had your three wishes, it’s no good to you now, then,
+Morris,” said the old man at last. “What do you keep it for?”
+
+The soldier shook his head. “Fancy, I suppose,” he said, slowly. “I did
+have some idea of selling it, but I don’t think I will. It has caused
+enough mischief already. Besides, people won’t buy. They think it’s a
+fairy tale; some of them, and those who do think anything of it want to
+try it first and pay me afterward.”
+
+“If you could have another three wishes,” said the old man, eyeing him
+keenly, “would you have them?”
+
+“I don’t know,” said the other. “I don’t know.”
+
+He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb,
+suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down
+and snatched it off.
+
+“Better let it burn,” said the soldier, solemnly.
+
+“If you don’t want it, Morris,” said the other, “give it to me.”
+
+“I won’t,” said his friend, doggedly. “I threw it on the fire. If you
+keep it, don’t blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again
+like a sensible man.”
+
+The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. “How
+do you do it?” he inquired.
+
+“Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud,” said the
+sergeant-major, “but I warn you of the consequences.”
+
+“Sounds like the _Arabian Nights_,” said Mrs. White, as she rose and
+began to set the supper. “Don’t you think you might wish for four pairs
+of hands for me?”
+
+Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst
+into laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face,
+caught him by the arm.
+
+“If you must wish,” he said, gruffly, “wish for something sensible.”
+
+Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned
+his friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was
+partly forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an
+enthralled fashion to a second instalment of the soldier’s adventures
+in India.
+
+“If the tale about the monkey’s paw is not more truthful than those he
+has been telling us,” said Herbert, as the door closed behind their
+guest, just in time for him to catch the last train, “we sha’nt make
+much out of it.”
+
+“Did you give him anything for it, father?” inquired Mrs. White,
+regarding her husband closely.
+
+“A trifle,” said he, colouring slightly. “He didn’t want it, but I made
+him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away.”
+
+“Likely,” said Herbert, with pretended horror. “Why, we’re going to be
+rich, and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin
+with; then you can’t be henpecked.”
+
+He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed
+with an antimacassar.
+
+Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. “I don’t
+know what to wish for, and that’s a fact,” he said, slowly. “It seems
+to me I’ve got all I want.”
+
+“If you only cleared the house, you’d be quite happy, wouldn’t you?”
+said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. “Well, wish for two
+hundred pounds, then; that ’ll just do it.”
+
+His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the
+talisman, as his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at
+his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.
+
+“I wish for two hundred pounds,” said the old man distinctly.
+
+A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a
+shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him.
+
+“It moved,” he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay
+on the floor.
+
+“As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake.”
+
+“Well, I don’t see the money,” said his son as he picked it up and
+placed it on the table, “and I bet I never shall.”
+
+“It must have been your fancy, father,” said his wife, regarding him
+anxiously.
+
+He shook his head. “Never mind, though; there’s no harm done, but it
+gave me a shock all the same.”
+
+They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes.
+Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started
+nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual
+and depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old
+couple rose to retire for the night.
+
+“I expect you’ll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of
+your bed,” said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, “and something
+horrible squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket
+your ill-gotten gains.”
+
+He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing
+faces in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed
+at it in amazement. It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh,
+he felt on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw
+over it. His hand grasped the monkey’s paw, and with a little shiver he
+wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over
+the breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of
+prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the
+previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the
+sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its
+virtues.
+
+“I suppose all old soldiers are the same,” said Mrs. White. “The idea
+of our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these
+days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you,
+father?”
+
+“Might drop on his head from the sky,” said the frivolous Herbert.
+
+“Morris said the things happened so naturally,” said his father, “that
+you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence.”
+
+“Well, don’t break into the money before I come back,” said Herbert as
+he rose from the table. “I’m afraid it’ll turn you into a mean,
+avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you.”
+
+His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the
+road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the
+expense of her husband’s credulity. All of which did not prevent her
+from scurrying to the door at the postman’s knock, nor prevent her from
+referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous
+habits when she found that the post brought a tailor’s bill.
+
+“Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he
+comes home,” she said, as they sat at dinner.
+
+“I dare say,” said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; “but for
+all that, the thing moved in my hand; that I’ll swear to.”
+
+“You thought it did,” said the old lady soothingly.
+
+“I say it did,” replied the other. “There was no thought about it; I
+had just—What’s the matter?”
+
+His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a
+man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house,
+appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental
+connection with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger
+was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he
+paused at the gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood
+with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open
+and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands
+behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put
+that useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.
+
+She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He
+gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the
+old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband’s
+coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then
+waited as patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his
+business, but he was at first strangely silent.
+
+“I—was asked to call,” he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece
+of cotton from his trousers. “I come from ‘Maw and Meggins.’”
+
+The old lady started. “Is anything the matter?” she asked,
+breathlessly. “Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is
+it?”
+
+Her husband interposed. “There, there, mother,” he said, hastily. “Sit
+down, and don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve not brought bad news, I’m
+sure, sir;” and he eyed the other wistfully.
+
+“I’m sorry—” began the visitor.
+
+“Is he hurt?” demanded the mother, wildly.
+
+The visitor bowed in assent. “Badly hurt,” he said, quietly, “but he is
+not in any pain.”
+
+“Oh, thank God!” said the old woman, clasping her hands. “Thank God for
+that! Thank—”
+
+She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned
+upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other’s
+averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted
+husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long
+silence.
+
+“He was caught in the machinery,” said the visitor at length in a low
+voice.
+
+“Caught in the machinery,” repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion,
+“yes.”
+
+He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife’s hand
+between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old
+courting-days nearly forty years before.
+
+“He was the only one left to us,” he said, turning gently to the
+visitor. “It is hard.”
+
+The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. “The firm
+wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great
+loss,” he said, without looking round. “I beg that you will understand
+I am only their servant and merely obeying orders.”
+
+There was no reply; the old woman’s face was white, her eyes staring,
+and her breath inaudible; on the husband’s face was a look such as his
+friend the sergeant might have carried into his first action.
+
+“I was to say that ‘Maw and Meggins’ disclaim all responsibility,”
+continued the other. “They admit no liability at all, but in
+consideration of your son’s services, they wish to present you with a
+certain sum as compensation.”
+
+Mr. White dropped his wife’s hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a
+look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, “How
+much?”
+
+“Two hundred pounds,” was the answer.
+
+Unconscious of his wife’s shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out
+his hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the
+floor.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried
+their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It
+was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and
+remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to
+happen —something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for
+old hearts to bear.
+
+But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation—the
+hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes
+they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about,
+and their days were long to weariness.
+
+It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the
+night, stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in
+darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He
+raised himself in bed and listened.
+
+“Come back,” he said, tenderly. “You will be cold.”
+
+“It is colder for my son,” said the old woman, and wept afresh.
+
+The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his
+eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden
+wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start.
+
+“_The paw!_” she cried wildly. “The monkey’s paw!”
+
+He started up in alarm. “Where? Where is it? What’s the matter?”
+
+She came stumbling across the room toward him. “I want it,” she said,
+quietly. “You’ve not destroyed it?”
+
+“It’s in the parlour, on the bracket,” he replied, marvelling. “Why?”
+
+She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.
+
+“I only just thought of it,” she said, hysterically. “Why didn’t I
+think of it before? Why didn’t _you_ think of it?”
+
+“Think of what?” he questioned.
+
+“The other two wishes,” she replied, rapidly. “We’ve only had one.”
+
+“Was not that enough?” he demanded, fiercely.
+
+“No,” she cried, triumphantly; “we’ll have one more. Go down and get it
+quickly, and wish our boy alive again.”
+
+The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs.
+“Good God, you are mad!” he cried, aghast.
+
+“Get it,” she panted; “get it quickly, and wish—Oh, my boy, my boy!”
+
+Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. “Get back to bed,” he
+said, unsteadily. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
+
+“We had the first wish granted,” said the old woman, feverishly; “why
+not the second?”
+
+“A coincidence,” stammered the old man.
+
+“Go and get it and wish,” cried his wife, quivering with excitement.
+
+The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. “He has been
+dead ten days, and besides he—I would not tell you else, but—I could
+only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to
+see then, how now?”
+
+“Bring him back,” cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door.
+“Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?”
+
+He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then
+to the mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear
+that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he
+could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as
+he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with
+sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until
+he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his
+hand.
+
+Even his wife’s face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was
+white and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look
+upon it. He was afraid of her.
+
+“_Wish!_” she cried, in a strong voice.
+
+“It is foolish and wicked,” he faltered.
+
+“_Wish!_” repeated his wife.
+
+He raised his hand. “I wish my son alive again.”
+
+The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he
+sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked
+to the window and raised the blind.
+
+He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the
+figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end,
+which had burned below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing
+pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker
+larger than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable
+sense of relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed,
+and a minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and
+apathetically beside him.
+
+Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock.
+A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall.
+The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up
+his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went
+downstairs for a candle.
+
+At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike
+another; and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be
+scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.
+
+The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood
+motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he
+turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind
+him. A third knock sounded through the house.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+“_What’s that?_” cried the old woman, starting up.
+
+“A rat,” said the old man in shaking tones—“a rat. It passed me on the
+stairs.”
+
+His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the
+house.
+
+“It’s Herbert!” she screamed. “It’s Herbert!”
+
+She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her
+by the arm, held her tightly.
+
+“What are you going to do?” he whispered hoarsely.
+
+“It’s my boy; it’s Herbert!” she cried, struggling mechanically. “I
+forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I
+must open the door.”
+
+“For God’s sake don’t let it in,” cried the old man, trembling.
+
+“You’re afraid of your own son,” she cried, struggling. “Let me go. I’m
+coming, Herbert; I’m coming.”
+
+There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden
+wrench broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the
+landing, and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He
+heard the chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and
+stiffly from the socket. Then the old woman’s voice, strained and
+panting.
+
+“The bolt,” she cried, loudly. “Come down. I can’t reach it.”
+
+But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor
+in search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside
+got in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house,
+and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the
+passage against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came
+slowly back, and at the same moment he found the monkey’s paw, and
+frantically breathed his third and last wish.
+
+The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in
+the house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold
+wind rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment
+and misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and
+then to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a
+quiet and deserted road.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONKEY’S PAW ***
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diff --git a/old/12122-h/12122-h.htm b/old/12122-h/12122-h.htm
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Monkey’s Paw, by W. W. Jacobs</title>
+<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
+<style type="text/css">
+
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+
+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Monkey’s Paw, by W.W. Jacobs</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Monkey’s Paw<br />
+  The Lady of the Barge and Others, Part 2.</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: W.W. Jacobs</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 22, 2004 [eBook #12122]<br />
+[Most recently updated: October 28, 2023]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Widger</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONKEY’S PAW ***</div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:55%;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" />
+</div>
+
+<h1>THE LADY OF THE BARGE<br/>
+AND OTHER STORIES</h1>
+
+<h2 class="no-break">By W. W. Jacobs</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>THE MONKEY’S PAW</h2>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>I.</h2>
+
+<p>
+Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa
+the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at
+chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical
+changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even
+provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Hark at the wind,” said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it
+was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’m listening,” said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he stretched
+out his hand. “Check.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I should hardly think that he’d come to-night,” said his father, with his hand
+poised over the board.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Mate,” replied the son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“That’s the worst of living so far out,” bawled Mr. White, with sudden and
+unlooked-for violence; “of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way places to
+live in, this is the worst. Pathway’s a bog, and the road’s a torrent. I don’t
+know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses in the
+road are let, they think it doesn’t matter.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Never mind, dear,” said his wife, soothingly; “perhaps you’ll win the next
+one.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between
+mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a guilty grin in
+his thin grey beard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“There he is,” said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy
+footsteps came toward the door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard
+condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with himself, so
+that Mrs. White said, “Tut, tut!” and coughed gently as her husband entered the
+room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Sergeant-Major Morris,” he said, introducing him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the fire,
+watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers and stood a
+small copper kettle on the fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the little
+family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from distant parts, as
+he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of wild scenes and
+doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange peoples.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Twenty-one years of it,” said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. “When he
+went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look at him.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He don’t look to have taken much harm,” said Mrs. White, politely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’d like to go to India myself,” said the old man, “just to look round a bit,
+you know.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Better where you are,” said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He put down
+the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers,” said the old
+man. “What was that you started telling me the other day about a monkey’s paw
+or something, Morris?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Nothing,” said the soldier, hastily. “Leastways nothing worth hearing.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Monkey’s paw?” said Mrs. White, curiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, it’s just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps,” said the
+sergeant-major, offhandedly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absent-mindedly put his
+empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host filled it for him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“To look at,” said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, “it’s just an
+ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew back with
+a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And what is there special about it?” inquired Mr. White as he took it from his
+son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It had a spell put on it by an old fakir,” said the sergeant-major, “a very
+holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people’s lives, and that those who
+interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three
+separate men could each have three wishes from it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their light
+laughter jarred somewhat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, why don’t you have three, sir?” said Herbert White, cleverly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard
+presumptuous youth. “I have,” he said, quietly, and his blotchy face whitened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And did you really have the three wishes granted?” asked Mrs. White.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I did,” said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his strong
+teeth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“And has anybody else wished?” persisted the old lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The first man had his three wishes. Yes,” was the reply; “I don’t know what
+the first two were, but the third was for death. That’s how I got the paw.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you’ve had your three wishes, it’s no good to you now, then, Morris,” said
+the old man at last. “What do you keep it for?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The soldier shook his head. “Fancy, I suppose,” he said, slowly. “I did have
+some idea of selling it, but I don’t think I will. It has caused enough
+mischief already. Besides, people won’t buy. They think it’s a fairy tale; some
+of them, and those who do think anything of it want to try it first and pay me
+afterward.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you could have another three wishes,” said the old man, eyeing him keenly,
+“would you have them?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I don’t know,” said the other. “I don’t know.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb, suddenly
+threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down and snatched it
+off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Better let it burn,” said the soldier, solemnly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you don’t want it, Morris,” said the other, “give it to me.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I won’t,” said his friend, doggedly. “I threw it on the fire. If you keep it,
+don’t blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again like a sensible
+man.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. “How do you
+do it?” he inquired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud,” said the sergeant-major, “but I
+warn you of the consequences.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Sounds like the <i>Arabian Nights</i>,” said Mrs. White, as she rose and began
+to set the supper. “Don’t you think you might wish for four pairs of hands for
+me?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst into
+laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught him by
+the arm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you must wish,” he said, gruffly, “wish for something sensible.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his
+friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was partly
+forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion to a
+second instalment of the soldier’s adventures in India.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If the tale about the monkey’s paw is not more truthful than those he has been
+telling us,” said Herbert, as the door closed behind their guest, just in time
+for him to catch the last train, “we sha’nt make much out of it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Did you give him anything for it, father?” inquired Mrs. White, regarding her
+husband closely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A trifle,” said he, colouring slightly. “He didn’t want it, but I made him
+take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Likely,” said Herbert, with pretended horror. “Why, we’re going to be rich,
+and famous and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin with; then you
+can’t be henpecked.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with an
+antimacassar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. “I don’t know
+what to wish for, and that’s a fact,” he said, slowly. “It seems to me I’ve got
+all I want.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“If you only cleared the house, you’d be quite happy, wouldn’t you?” said
+Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. “Well, wish for two hundred pounds,
+then; that ’ll just do it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the talisman, as
+his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at his mother, sat down
+at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I wish for two hundred pounds,” said the old man distinctly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a shuddering cry
+from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It moved,” he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on the
+floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, I don’t see the money,” said his son as he picked it up and placed it on
+the table, “and I bet I never shall.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It must have been your fancy, father,” said his wife, regarding him anxiously.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He shook his head. “Never mind, though; there’s no harm done, but it gave me a
+shock all the same.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes.
+Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started nervously at
+the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and depressing settled
+upon all three, which lasted until the old couple rose to retire for the night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I expect you’ll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your bed,”
+said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, “and something horrible squatting up
+on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your ill-gotten gains.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces in it.
+The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it in amazement.
+It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt on the table for a
+glass containing a little water to throw over it. His hand grasped the monkey’s
+paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>II.</h2>
+
+<p>
+In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the
+breakfast table he laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic
+wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the
+dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness
+which betokened no great belief in its virtues.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I suppose all old soldiers are the same,” said Mrs. White. “The idea of our
+listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these days? And if
+they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Might drop on his head from the sky,” said the frivolous Herbert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Morris said the things happened so naturally,” said his father, “that you
+might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Well, don’t break into the money before I come back,” said Herbert as he rose
+from the table. “I’m afraid it’ll turn you into a mean, avaricious man, and we
+shall have to disown you.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the road;
+and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense of her
+husband’s credulity. All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to the
+door at the postman’s knock, nor prevent her from referring somewhat shortly to
+retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought
+a tailor’s bill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he comes
+home,” she said, as they sat at dinner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I dare say,” said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; “but for all that,
+the thing moved in my hand; that I’ll swear to.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You thought it did,” said the old lady soothingly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I say it did,” replied the other. “There was no thought about it; I had
+just—What’s the matter?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a man
+outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared to be
+trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connection with the two hundred
+pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and wore a silk hat of
+glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate, and then walked on again.
+The fourth time he stood with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution
+flung it open and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her
+hands behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put that
+useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He gazed at
+her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized
+for the appearance of the room, and her husband’s coat, a garment which he
+usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as patiently as her sex would
+permit, for him to broach his business, but he was at first strangely silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I—was asked to call,” he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece of
+cotton from his trousers. “I come from ‘Maw and Meggins.’”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old lady started. “Is anything the matter?” she asked, breathlessly. “Has
+anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is it?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her husband interposed. “There, there, mother,” he said, hastily. “Sit down,
+and don’t jump to conclusions. You’ve not brought bad news, I’m sure, sir;” and
+he eyed the other wistfully.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I’m sorry—” began the visitor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Is he hurt?” demanded the mother, wildly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The visitor bowed in assent. “Badly hurt,” he said, quietly, “but he is not in
+any pain.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Oh, thank God!” said the old woman, clasping her hands. “Thank God for that!
+Thank—”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her
+and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other’s averted face.
+She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her
+trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He was caught in the machinery,” said the visitor at length in a low voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Caught in the machinery,” repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, “yes.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife’s hand between
+his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old courting-days nearly
+forty years before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“He was the only one left to us,” he said, turning gently to the visitor. “It
+is hard.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. “The firm wished me
+to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss,” he said, without
+looking round. “I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and
+merely obeying orders.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no reply; the old woman’s face was white, her eyes staring, and her
+breath inaudible; on the husband’s face was a look such as his friend the
+sergeant might have carried into his first action.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I was to say that ‘Maw and Meggins’ disclaim all responsibility,” continued
+the other. “They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your son’s
+services, they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mr. White dropped his wife’s hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a look of
+horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, “How much?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Two hundred pounds,” was the answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Unconscious of his wife’s shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his hands
+like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h2>III.</h2>
+
+<p>
+In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried their
+dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It was all over
+so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and remained in a state
+of expectation as though of something else to happen —something else which was
+to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts to bear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation—the hopeless
+resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes they hardly
+exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and their days were
+long to weariness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the night,
+stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in darkness, and
+the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He raised himself in bed and
+listened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Come back,” he said, tenderly. “You will be cold.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It is colder for my son,” said the old woman, and wept afresh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his eyes
+heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden wild cry
+from his wife awoke him with a start.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“<i>The paw!</i>” she cried wildly. “The monkey’s paw!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He started up in alarm. “Where? Where is it? What’s the matter?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She came stumbling across the room toward him. “I want it,” she said, quietly.
+“You’ve not destroyed it?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s in the parlour, on the bracket,” he replied, marvelling. “Why?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“I only just thought of it,” she said, hysterically. “Why didn’t I think of it
+before? Why didn’t <i>you</i> think of it?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Think of what?” he questioned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The other two wishes,” she replied, rapidly. “We’ve only had one.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Was not that enough?” he demanded, fiercely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“No,” she cried, triumphantly; “we’ll have one more. Go down and get it
+quickly, and wish our boy alive again.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs. “Good
+God, you are mad!” he cried, aghast.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Get it,” she panted; “get it quickly, and wish—Oh, my boy, my boy!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. “Get back to bed,” he said,
+unsteadily. “You don’t know what you are saying.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“We had the first wish granted,” said the old woman, feverishly; “why not the
+second?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A coincidence,” stammered the old man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Go and get it and wish,” cried his wife, quivering with excitement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. “He has been dead ten
+days, and besides he—I would not tell you else, but—I could only recognize him
+by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to see then, how now?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“Bring him back,” cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door. “Do you
+think I fear the child I have nursed?”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then to the
+mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear that the
+unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he could escape from
+the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as he found that he had lost
+the direction of the door. His brow cold with sweat, he felt his way round the
+table, and groped along the wall until he found himself in the small passage
+with the unwholesome thing in his hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even his wife’s face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was white and
+expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it. He was
+afraid of her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“<i>Wish!</i>” she cried, in a strong voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It is foolish and wicked,” he faltered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“<i>Wish!</i>” repeated his wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He raised his hand. “I wish my son alive again.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he sank
+trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked to the
+window and raised the blind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the figure
+of the old woman peering through the window. The candle-end, which had burned
+below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing pulsating shadows on the
+ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker larger than the rest, it expired. The
+old man, with an unspeakable sense of relief at the failure of the talisman,
+crept back to his bed, and a minute or two afterward the old woman came
+silently and apathetically beside him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A stair
+creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. The darkness
+was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, he took
+the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another;
+and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely
+audible, sounded on the front door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage. He stood motionless,
+his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he turned and fled
+swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. A third knock sounded
+through the house.
+</p>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:100%;">
+<img src="images/002.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="[Illustration]" />
+</div>
+
+<p>
+“<i>What’s that?</i>” cried the old woman, starting up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“A rat,” said the old man in shaking tones—“a rat. It passed me on the stairs.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s Herbert!” she screamed. “It’s Herbert!”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by the
+arm, held her tightly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“What are you going to do?” he whispered hoarsely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“It’s my boy; it’s Herbert!” she cried, struggling mechanically. “I forgot it
+was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I must open the door.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“For God’s sake don’t let it in,” cried the old man, trembling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“You’re afraid of your own son,” she cried, struggling. “Let me go. I’m coming,
+Herbert; I’m coming.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden wrench broke
+free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the landing, and called
+after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He heard the chain rattle back
+and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the socket. Then the old
+woman’s voice, strained and panting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+“The bolt,” she cried, loudly. “Come down. I can’t reach it.”
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in
+search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside got in. A
+perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he heard the
+scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage against the door. He
+heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly back, and at the same moment
+he found the monkey’s paw, and frantically breathed his third and last wish.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the
+house. He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened. A cold wind rushed
+up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and misery from his
+wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and then to the gate beyond. The
+street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road.
+</p>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONKEY’S PAW ***</div>
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diff --git a/old/12122-h/images/002.jpg b/old/12122-h/images/002.jpg
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diff --git a/old/old/12122.txt b/old/old/12122.txt
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--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/old/12122.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,962 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Monkey's Paw, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Monkey's Paw
+       The Lady of the Barge and Others, Part 2.
+
+Author: W.W. Jacobs
+
+Release Date: April 22, 2004 [EBook #12122]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONKEY'S PAW ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+THE LADY OF THE BARGE
+
+AND OTHER STORIES
+
+By W. W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+
+THE MONKEY'S PAW
+
+
+I.
+
+Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam
+Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly.  Father and son
+were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving
+radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils
+that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting
+placidly by the fire.
+
+"Hark at the wind," said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake
+after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from
+seeing it.
+
+"I'm listening," said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he
+stretched out his hand.  "Check."
+
+"I should hardly think that he'd come to-night," said his father, with
+his hand poised over the board.
+
+"Mate," replied the son.
+
+"That's the worst of living so far out," bawled Mr. White, with sudden
+and unlooked-for violence; "of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way
+places to live in, this is the worst.  Pathway's a bog, and the road's a
+torrent.  I don't know what people are thinking about.  I suppose because
+only two houses in the road are let, they think it doesn't matter."
+
+"Never mind, dear," said his wife, soothingly; "perhaps you'll win the
+next one."
+
+Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance
+between mother and son.  The words died away on his lips, and he hid a
+guilty grin in his thin grey beard.
+
+"There he is," said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy
+footsteps came toward the door.
+
+The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard
+condoling with the new arrival.  The new arrival also condoled with
+himself, so that Mrs. White said, "Tut, tut!"  and coughed gently as her
+husband entered the room, followed by a tall, burly man, beady of eye and
+rubicund of visage.
+
+"Sergeant-Major Morris," he said, introducing him.
+
+The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the
+fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whiskey and tumblers and
+stood a small copper kettle on the fire.
+
+At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the
+little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from
+distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke
+of wild scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange
+peoples.
+
+"Twenty-one years of it," said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son.
+"When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse.  Now look
+at him."
+
+"He don't look to have taken much harm," said Mrs. White, politely.
+
+"I'd like to go to India myself," said the old man, "just to look round a
+bit, you know."
+
+"Better where you are," said the sergeant-major, shaking his head.  He
+put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.
+
+"I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers," said
+the old man.  "What was that you started telling me the other day about a
+monkey's paw or something, Morris?"
+
+"Nothing," said the soldier, hastily.  "Leastways nothing worth hearing."
+
+"Monkey's paw?"  said Mrs. White, curiously.
+
+"Well, it's just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps," said the
+sergeant-major, offhandedly.
+
+His three listeners leaned forward eagerly.  The visitor absent-mindedly
+put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again.  His host
+filled it for him.
+
+"To look at," said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, "it's just
+an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy."
+
+He took something out of his pocket and proffered it.  Mrs. White drew
+back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.
+
+"And what is there special about it?"  inquired Mr. White as he took it
+from his son, and having examined it, placed it upon the table.
+
+"It had a spell put on it by an old fakir," said the sergeant-major,
+"a very holy man.  He wanted to show that fate ruled people's lives, and
+that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow.  He put a spell
+on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it."
+
+His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their
+light laughter jarred somewhat.
+
+"Well, why don't you have three, sir?"  said Herbert White, cleverly.
+
+The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard
+presumptuous youth.  "I have," he said, quietly, and his blotchy face
+whitened.
+
+"And did you really have the three wishes granted?"  asked Mrs. White.
+
+"I did," said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his strong
+teeth.
+
+"And has anybody else wished?"  persisted the old lady.
+
+"The first man had his three wishes.  Yes," was the reply; "I don't know
+what the first two were, but the third was for death.  That's how I got
+the paw."
+
+His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.
+
+"If you've had your three wishes, it's no good to you now, then, Morris,"
+said the old man at last.  "What do you keep it for?"
+
+The soldier shook his head.  "Fancy, I suppose," he said, slowly.  "I did
+have some idea of selling it, but I don't think I will.  It has caused
+enough mischief already.  Besides, people won't buy.  They think it's a
+fairy tale; some of them, and those who do think anything of it want to
+try it first and pay me afterward."
+
+"If you could have another three wishes," said the old man, eyeing him
+keenly, "would you have them?"
+
+"I don't know," said the other.  "I don't know."
+
+He took the paw, and dangling it between his forefinger and thumb,
+suddenly threw it upon the fire.  White, with a slight cry, stooped down
+and snatched it off.
+
+"Better let it burn," said the soldier, solemnly.
+
+"If you don't want it, Morris," said the other, "give it to me."
+
+"I won't," said his friend, doggedly.  "I threw it on the fire.  If you
+keep it, don't blame me for what happens.  Pitch it on the fire again
+like a sensible man."
+
+The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely.  "How
+do you do it?"  he inquired.
+
+"Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud," said the sergeant-major,
+"but I warn you of the consequences."
+
+"Sounds like the Arabian Nights," said Mrs. White, as she rose and began
+to set the supper.  "Don't you think you might wish for four pairs of
+hands for me?"
+
+Her husband drew the talisman from pocket, and then all three burst into
+laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught
+him by the arm.
+
+"If you must wish," he said, gruffly, "wish for something sensible."
+
+Mr. White dropped it back in his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his
+friend to the table.  In the business of supper the talisman was partly
+forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion
+to a second instalment of the soldier's adventures in India.
+
+"If the tale about the monkey's paw is not more truthful than those he
+has been telling us," said Herbert, as the door closed behind their
+guest, just in time for him to catch the last train, "we sha'nt make much
+out of it."
+
+"Did you give him anything for it, father?"  inquired Mrs. White,
+regarding her husband closely.
+
+"A trifle," said he, colouring slightly.  "He didn't want it, but I made
+him take it.  And he pressed me again to throw it away."
+
+"Likely," said Herbert, with pretended horror.  "Why, we're going to be
+rich, and famous and happy.  Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin
+with; then you can't be henpecked."
+
+He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with
+an antimacassar.
+
+Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously.  "I don't
+know what to wish for, and that's a fact," he said, slowly.  "It seems to
+me I've got all I want."
+
+"If you only cleared the house, you'd be quite happy, wouldn't you?"
+said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder.  "Well, wish for two hundred
+pounds, then; that 'll just do it."
+
+His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the
+talisman, as his son, with a solemn face, somewhat marred by a wink at
+his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.
+
+"I wish for two hundred pounds," said the old man distinctly.
+
+A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a
+shuddering cry from the old man.  His wife and son ran toward him.
+
+"It moved," he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on
+the floor.
+
+"As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake."
+
+"Well, I don't see the money," said his son as he picked it up and placed
+it on the table, "and I bet I never shall."
+
+"It must have been your fancy, father," said his wife, regarding him
+anxiously.
+
+He shook his head.  "Never mind, though; there's no harm done, but it
+gave me a shock all the same."
+
+They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes.
+Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started nervously
+at the sound of a door banging upstairs.  A silence unusual and
+depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old couple rose
+to retire for the night.
+
+"I expect you'll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your
+bed," said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, "and something horrible
+squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your
+ill-gotten gains."
+
+He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces
+in it.  The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it
+in amazement.  It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt
+on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw over it.  His
+hand grasped the monkey's paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand
+on his coat and went up to bed.
+
+
+
+II.
+
+In the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the
+breakfast table he laughed at his fears.  There was an air of prosaic
+wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night,
+and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a
+carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.
+
+"I suppose all old soldiers are the same," said Mrs. White.  "The idea of
+our listening to such nonsense!  How could wishes be granted in these
+days?  And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?"
+
+"Might drop on his head from the sky," said the frivolous Herbert.
+
+"Morris said the things happened so naturally," said his father, "that
+you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence."
+
+"Well, don't break into the money before I come back," said Herbert as he
+rose from the table.  "I'm afraid it'll turn you into a mean, avaricious
+man, and we shall have to disown you."
+
+His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the
+road; and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense
+of her husband's credulity.  All of which did not prevent her from
+scurrying to the door at the postman's knock, nor prevent her from
+referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits
+when she found that the post brought a tailor's bill.
+
+"Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he
+comes home," she said, as they sat at dinner.
+
+"I dare say," said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; "but for all
+that, the thing moved in my hand; that I'll swear to."
+
+"You thought it did," said the old lady soothingly.
+
+"I say it did," replied the other.  "There was no thought about it; I had
+just---- What's the matter?"
+
+His wife made no reply.  She was watching the mysterious movements of a
+man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared
+to be trying to make up his mind to enter.  In mental connection with the
+two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed, and
+wore a silk hat of glossy newness.  Three times he paused at the gate,
+and then walked on again.  The fourth time he stood with his hand upon
+it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path.
+Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly
+unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel
+beneath the cushion of her chair.
+
+She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room.  He
+gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old
+lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a
+garment which he usually reserved for the garden.  She then waited as
+patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he
+was at first strangely silent.
+
+"I--was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece
+of cotton from his trousers.  "I come from 'Maw and Meggins.'"
+
+The old lady started.  "Is anything the matter?"  she asked,
+breathlessly.  "Has anything happened to Herbert?  What is it?  What is
+it?"
+
+Her husband interposed.  "There, there, mother," he said, hastily.  "Sit
+down, and don't jump to conclusions.  You've not brought bad news, I'm
+sure, sir;" and he eyed the other wistfully.
+
+"I'm sorry--" began the visitor.
+
+"Is he hurt?"  demanded the mother, wildly.
+
+The visitor bowed in assent.  "Badly hurt," he said, quietly, "but he is
+not in any pain."
+
+"Oh, thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands.  "Thank God for
+that!  Thank--"
+
+She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned
+upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's
+averted face.  She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted
+husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his.  There was a long silence.
+
+"He was caught in the machinery," said the visitor at length in a low
+voice.
+
+"Caught in the machinery," repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, "yes."
+
+He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife's hand
+between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old
+courting-days nearly forty years before.
+
+"He was the only one left to us," he said, turning gently to the visitor.
+"It is hard."
+
+The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window.  "The firm
+wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss,"
+he said, without looking round.  "I beg that you will understand I am
+only their servant and merely obeying orders."
+
+There was no reply; the old woman's face was white, her eyes staring, and
+her breath inaudible; on the husband's face was a look such as his friend
+the sergeant might have carried into his first action.
+
+"I was to say that 'Maw and Meggins' disclaim all responsibility,"
+continued the other.  "They admit no liability at all, but in
+consideration of your son's services, they wish to present you with
+a certain sum as compensation."
+
+Mr. White dropped his wife's hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a
+look of horror at his visitor.  His dry lips shaped the words, "How
+much?"
+
+"Two hundred pounds," was the answer.
+
+Unconscious of his wife's shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his
+hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor.
+
+
+III.
+
+In the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried
+their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence.  It
+was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and
+remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to happen
+--something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts
+to bear.
+
+But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation--the
+hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy.  Sometimes
+they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and
+their days were long to weariness.
+
+It was about a week after that the old man, waking suddenly in the night,
+stretched out his hand and found himself alone.  The room was in
+darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window.  He
+raised himself in bed and listened.
+
+"Come back," he said, tenderly.  "You will be cold."
+
+"It is colder for my son," said the old woman, and wept afresh.
+
+The sound of her sobs died away on his ears.  The bed was warm, and his
+eyes heavy with sleep.  He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden
+wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start.
+
+"The paw!"  she cried wildly.  "The monkey's paw!"
+
+He started up in alarm.  "Where?  Where is it?  What's the matter?"
+
+She came stumbling across the room toward him.  "I want it," she said,
+quietly.  "You've not destroyed it?"
+
+"It's in the parlour, on the bracket," he replied, marvelling.  "Why?"
+
+She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.
+
+"I only just thought of it," she said, hysterically.  "Why didn't I think
+of it before?  Why didn't you think of it?"
+
+"Think of what?"  he questioned.
+
+"The other two wishes," she replied, rapidly. "We've only had one."
+
+"Was not that enough?"  he demanded, fiercely.
+
+"No," she cried, triumphantly; "we'll have one more.  Go down and get it
+quickly, and wish our boy alive again."
+
+The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs.
+"Good God, you are mad!"  he cried, aghast.
+
+"Get it," she panted; "get it quickly, and wish--Oh, my boy, my boy!"
+
+Her husband struck a match and lit the candle.  "Get back to bed," he
+said, unsteadily.  "You don't know what you are saying."
+
+"We had the first wish granted," said the old woman, feverishly; "why not
+the second?"
+
+"A coincidence," stammered the old man.
+
+"Go and get it and wish," cried his wife, quivering with excitement.
+
+The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook.  "He has been
+dead ten days, and besides he--I would not tell you else, but--I could
+only recognize him by his clothing.  If he was too terrible for you to
+see then, how now?"
+
+"Bring him back," cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door.
+"Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?"
+
+He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then
+to the mantelpiece.  The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear
+that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he
+could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as
+he found that he had lost the direction of the door.  His brow cold with
+sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until
+he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his
+hand.
+
+Even his wife's face seemed changed as he entered the room.  It was white
+and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it.
+He was afraid of her.
+
+"Wish!"  she cried, in a strong voice.
+
+"It is foolish and wicked," he faltered.
+
+"Wish!"  repeated his wife.
+
+He raised his hand.  "I wish my son alive again."
+
+The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully.  Then he
+sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked
+to the window and raised the blind.
+
+He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the
+figure of the old woman peering through the window.  The candle-end,
+which had burned below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing
+pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker larger
+than the rest, it expired.  The old man, with an unspeakable sense of
+relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed, and a
+minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically
+beside him.
+
+Neither spoke, but lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock.  A
+stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall.
+The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up
+his courage, he took the box of matches, and striking one, went
+downstairs for a candle.
+
+At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike
+another; and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be
+scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.
+
+The matches fell from his hand and spilled in the passage.  He stood
+motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated.  Then he
+turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him.
+A third knock sounded through the house.
+
+"What's that?"  cried the old woman, starting up.
+
+"A rat," said the old man in shaking tones--"a rat.  It passed me on the
+stairs."
+
+His wife sat up in bed listening.  A loud knock resounded through the
+house.
+
+"It's Herbert!"  she screamed.  "It's Herbert!"
+
+She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by
+the arm, held her tightly.
+
+"What are you going to do?"  he whispered hoarsely.
+
+"It's my boy; it's Herbert!"  she cried, struggling mechanically.
+"I forgot it was two miles away.  What are you holding me for?  Let go.
+I must open the door."
+
+"For God's sake don't let it in," cried the old man, trembling.
+
+"You're afraid of your own son," she cried, struggling.  "Let me go.  I'm
+coming, Herbert; I'm coming."
+
+There was another knock, and another.  The old woman with a sudden wrench
+broke free and ran from the room.  Her husband followed to the landing,
+and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs.  He heard the
+chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the
+socket.  Then the old woman's voice, strained and panting.
+
+"The bolt," she cried, loudly.  "Come down.  I can't reach it."
+
+But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in
+search of the paw.  If he could only find it before the thing outside got
+in.  A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he
+heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage
+against the door.  He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly
+back, and at the same moment he found the monkey's paw, and frantically
+breathed his third and last wish.
+
+The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the
+house.  He heard the chair drawn back, and the door opened.  A cold wind
+rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and
+misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and then
+to the gate beyond.  The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet
+and deserted road.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Monkey's Paw, by W.W. Jacobs
+
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