The monkeys paw is a scary classic short story by W.W. Jacobs about a family who finds a magic talisman that grants three wishes that also carry with them a lot of tragedy
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Without,the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlor of Lakesnam 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 tonight," said he 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 a sudden and unlooked-for violence; "of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way places to live in, this is the worst. Pathways a bog, and the roads a torrent. I don't know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses on the road are let, they think it does 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 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 wi himself, so that Mrs.White said, "Tut, tut!" and coughed gently as her husband the room, followed by a tall,burly man, Brady of eye and rubicund of visage. (What the hell does that mean????)
"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(how did I think that said bagel?) to talk,the little circle regarding with eager interest this visiter from distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of strange scenes and doughty deeds, or wars and strange peoples. (Hot damn this is long)
"Twenty-one years of it," said Mr.White, nodding at his wife and son."when he went away he was a slip of youth in the warehouse. Now look at him." (ITS NOT ME ITS YOU!!!! ITS NOT ME ITS YOU!!!!! ALWAYS HAS BEEN YOU! If you get my reference I'm proud of you peeps)
