The Monkeys Paw | Page 2

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