THE MONKEY’S PAW
BY
W. W. JACOBS
“Be careful what you wish for, you may receive it.” — Anonymous
Part I
Without, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnum villa the blinds were drawn
and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess; the former, who posessed ideas about the
game involving radical chances, 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 streched out his hand. “Check.”
“I should hardly think that he’s come tonight, ” said his father, with his hand poised over the board.
“Mate,” replied the son.
“That’s the worst of living so far out,” balled 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. Path’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.
“Sargeant-Major Morris, ” he said, introducing him.
The Sargeant-Major took hands and taking the proffered seat by the fire, watched contentedly as 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 dougty 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 around a bit, you know.”
“Better where you are,” said the Sargent-Major, shaking his head. He put down the empty glass and
sighning softly, shook it again.
“I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers,” said the old man. “what was that 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 Sargeant-Major off-handedly.
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 again.
“To look at,” said the Sargent-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 Sargent-Major, “a very holy man. He wanted to show
that fate ruled people’s lifes, 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 manners were so impressive that his hearers were concious that their light laughter had jarred
somewhat.
“Well, why don’t you have three, sir?” said Herbert White cleverly.
The soldier regarded him the way that middle age is wont to regard presumptious 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 seargent-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 apon 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 me 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 like a sensible man.”
The other shook his head and examined his possesion closely. “How do you do it?” he inquired.
“Hold it up in your right hand, and wish aloud,” said the seargent-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 his pocket, and all three burst into laughter as the Seargent-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 installment of the s oldier’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 thier guest, just in time to catch the last train, “we shan’t make much out of
it.”
“Did you give 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 emporer, father, to begin with; then you can’t be henpecked.”
He darted around the table, persued 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 thats
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 and struck a few impressive chords.
“I wish for two hundred pounds,” said the old man distinctly.
A fine crash from the piano greeted his words, interupted 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; theres no harm done, but it gave me a shock all the same.”
They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished thier pipes. Outside, the wind was higher
than ever, an the old man started nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual
and depressing settled on all three, which last ed until the old couple rose to retire for the rest of 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 goodnight, ” and something horrible squatting on top of your 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 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 containig a lit tle 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.
Part 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 onthe previous
nighrt, and the dirty, shriveled little paw was pitched on the side-board 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 coincedence.”
“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 Sargeant-Majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought a tailors 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 – Whay’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
conexion 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 cusion 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 buisiness, 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 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 as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned on her and she saw the awful
confirmation of her fears in the others averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slowerwitted husband, laid her trembling hand on 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 out 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 wishes me to covey 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 womans face was white, her eyes staring, and her breath inaudible; on the
husband’s face was a look such as his freind the seargent 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.
Unconcious 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.
Part III
In the huge new cemetary, some two miles distant, the old people buried their dead, and came back to
the house steeped in shadows and silence. It was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize
it, and remained in a state of expectatio n 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 expectations gave way to resignation – the hopeless resignation of the old,
sometimes mis-called apathy. Sometimes they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to
talk about, and their days were long to weariness.
It was a 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 sounds 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? Whats 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, marveling. “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 in bed and flung the bedcloths 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 get it and wish,” cried his wife, quivering with exitement.
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 towards 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 mantlepiece. The
talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear that the unspoken wish might bring his mutillated son
before him ere he could escape from the room seized up on 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 ocasionally 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 back to his
bed, and a minute afterward the old woman came silently and apethetically beside him.
Neither spoke, but lat 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 match es, 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 came 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.
“WHATS 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 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 follwed to the landing, and called after her appealingly as she hurried
downstairs. He heard the chain rattle back and the bolt draw n slowly and stiffly from the socket. Then
the old womans 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 only he
could find it before the thing outside got in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated throgh the house,
and he heard the scraping of a chair a s his wife 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
monkeys’s paw, and franticly 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
dissapointment and misery from his wife gave him the courage to run down to her side, and then to the
gate beyond. The streetlamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road.
THE END.
They were warned and still they wished…..
Dorothy Parker
Poetry is one of the art forms that immediately come to mind when we think of love. Love poems are
something I bet that we have all dabbled in at some painful point in our lives.
I’d like to introduce you here to the poetry of Dorothy Parker. She wrote in the early part of the 20th
Century but her poems read as very up to date.
Here is some biographical info to start with:
http://www.poemhunter.com/dorothy-parker/biography/
Fable
Oh, there once was a lady, and so I’ve been told,
Whose lover grew weary, whose lover grew cold.
“My child,” he remarked, “though our episode ends,
In the manner of men, I suggest we be friends.”
And the truest of friends ever after they wereOh, they lied in their teeth when they told me of her!
General Review of the Sex Situation
Woman wants monogamy;
Man delights in novelty.
Love is woman’s moon and sun;
Man has other forms of fun.
Woman lives but in her lord;
Count to ten, and man is bored.
With this the gist and sum of it,
What earthly good can come of it?
Interview
The ladies men admire, I’ve heard,
Would shudder at a wicked word.
Their candle gives a single light;
They’d rather stay at home at night.
They do not keep awake till three,
Nor read erotic poetry.
They never sanction the impure,
Nor recognize an overture.
They shrink from powders and from paints …
So far, I’ve had no complaints.
Mortal Enemy
Let another cross his wayShe’s the one will do the weeping!
Little need I fear he’ll stray
Since I have his heart in keepingLet another hail him dearLittle chance that he’ll forget me!
Only need I curse and fear
Her he loved before he met me.
The Lady’s Reward
Lady, lady, never start
Conversation toward your heart;
Keep your pretty words serene;
Never murmur what you mean.
Show yourself, by word and look,
Swift and shallow as a brook.
Be as cool and quick to go
As a drop of April snow;
Be as delicate and gay
As a cherry flower in May.
Lady, lady, never speak
Of the tears that burn your cheekShe will never win him, whose
Words had shown she feared to lose.
Be you wise and never sad,
You will get your lovely lad.
Never serious be, nor true,
And your wish will come to youAnd if that makes you happy, kid,
You’ll be the first it ever did.
Unfortunate Coincidence
By the time you swear you’re his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.
W7D3
Click the link below to read The Monkey’s Paw:
• The Monkey’s Paw
After reading, answer the following:
• So lets play a macabre game of our own.
The first student here should make a
wish….the next has to invent some terrible
way that the wish could be granted (a la The
Monkey’s Paw). Then that 2nd student
makes a wish of their own. See if there is any
way out of this trap! What is your wish????
This will be done in one long thread so
unless you are the first to post don’t start a
new thread – just add to the existing thread.
–
REVEL quizzes on these 2 chapters
W7D1
Although Romeo and Juliet might be the
first story that comes to mind when
someone is asked to name a great love
story, it is certainly not the only one.
Choose your favorite love story from
literature, film, or song, and, considering
the kinds of love discussed in this chapter
(eros, agape, romantic, family), describe
which kind of love is represented in the
story and what the story implies about the
nature of true love.
W7D2
Click the link below to read Dorothy Parker’s poetry.
• Dorothy Parker
Consider the following question:
Parker is pretty cynical but, it could be
argued, absolutely true. What do you think? Was
there one that you agreed with? One that you
thought was off base? Why do you say so?

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