Liberian Literary Magazine
"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 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 sargeant 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.
In the huge new cemetery,
some two miles distant, the
Promoting Liberian literature, Arts and Culture
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 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
expectations gave way 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 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? 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,
marveling. "Why?"
67
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 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 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
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