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Well done, well done indeed!! I loved the background sounds, the crackling fire, the clink of glasses as I sit and listen with my own fire going on a cold night. I'll be back for more stories, I'm sure of that!
so i had to read this for my english class and i waited till the last day "oops" and i was excepting a horrible audiobook but this was amazing and very expressive
pov: you’re an 8th grade english student and this feels like the billionth time hearing this story, despite the first time reading it was only a month ago
I remember reading this story in middle school...it resonated with me and I never forgot the uncomfortable feeling I got near the end when the son was brought back from the dead. Now, being older, and hearing the story read aloud intensifies every emotion - the woman's grief and her husband's terror and the dread of finding out what is beyond the door. Fantastic story. Fantastic narration. And with the beautiful moral of "be careful what you wish for".
Years ago I always listened to the CBS Radio Mystery Theater with E.G. Marshall. Lying in bed in the dark those stories usually scared me to death and I loved it. These productions remind me of that time. Thanks!
I had heard about the story of The Monkey's Paw, but I hadn't actually read it or in this case listened to it. I had been reading to old Celtic folklore and it's quite interesting how in these stories that had to do with wish granting creatures and objects, they always insist on you to be very specific with them. In the Celtic tales it was the faeries who could grant wishes (for a price) and the story was very clear on the fact that while faeries have a general understanding of the human language, they can't understand things like double meanings, indirectness and sarcasm. The person who made the wish would usually meet a terrible fate just because they weren't specific enough.
A similar theme happens in Ancient Greek myths, when the Olympian gods would grant a wish but always twist the wish so that it ended in nightmarish results. Such as Cassandra! One version of her legend states she wish for the gift of prophecy, but it came with the condition that no one would believe her predictions, and she was unable to prevent war and disaster.
This is one story I could here over again and still enjoy it,but I would have a little fun with the story,when the father wished for two hundred pounds he would wake up to find out he gained two hundred pounds.
Tbh we got blocks and I cant Imagine being a teacher reading the same 15 pages to 3 different groups of kids it's more difficult than you think @N Ryan
I’m actually a highly effective rated teacher. It’s called differentiation. Teenagers cannot sit still day in-day out doing the same thing . Listening to a chilling reading builds Interest in a story and it’s a great activating strategy. Do I read aloud? Sure. Do my students read independently, in small groups, round robin, popcorn, etc.? Absolutely. Nothing wrong with using a recording a couple times a year for a change up. Not to mention, not all students have the same learning styles. Some are AUDITORY listeners. An engaging recording with sound effects is the perfect way to help them retain content. So am I still a lazy teacher? And if I am, please explain to me your qualifications to judge an educator.
This reading was excellent! Super enjoyable to go back to an old story like this, and all the ambiance and music was a wonderful addition. (Being in your twenties is great because you can go enjoy all those old reading assignments without needing to do any worksheets on them 😎)
I wonder what would have happened had the father wished "The health and well being of my family" Given how cynical the magic is, my guess is nothing about their current lives would have changed. Or maybe some far off relative would have died who had left them a ton of money.
OMG I H. A. T. E. horror movies, shows, audio, and this kind of stuff . ........ But..... I am hooked on this channel! Amazing! The actors are so talented, the sound effects are insanely good, professional sounding not garage recordings. Thanks for changing my mind after 30 years of not liking scary stories! I'm sharing you with everyone I know!
It would have been hilarious if at the end when she opens the door and it's this Italian guy with an Italian accent and he's like " hey it's ah Marco's Pizza I ah gotcha your extra large pepperoni pizza "
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahaahahhahahahahaahahahhaahhaahahahahahhahaahahhahahaahahahha so funny bro first bro ham HEY ITS AH MARCOS PIZZA Large pepperoni: Yes Hotel: Marcos pizza, trivago The M O N K E S PAW HAAAAAAAAAAAA Plankton: Get of my way kid Mom: Hey you can talk to my son like that Plankton: I can talk to him however I want you old hag Dad: Dot talk to my wife like that Plankton: Why don’t you shut up and lose some wait Grandma: Hey don’t talk to my son like that! Plankton: Shut up and move you old bag of bones In the end: plankton rosted the whole family
We read this last year in my English Literature class and I loved it! The stories that are on this channel are really good and give me the creeps. I can't wait to listen to more of them!! :D
Your channel always manages to bring great stories to life thanks to everyone involved. Thank you to ALL of you. Actors, Authors, sound and music design, SFX, ect. All of you are amazing at what you do. Keep up the great work.
Agreed. I think the tension could have been carried through with the reveal of the son, the the father frantically wishing him dead again. It feels like they built up to a really cool climax and then dropped the ball; all the tension deflated like a sad balloon
Truly a master class in how to go from a innocuous beginning to a surprisingly creepy ending, and that goes for the text and the narration. How come this tale manages to capture the feeling of "the uncanny" so precisely without ever showing (or rather, describing) that fron which it originates?
I am here because it was part of my reading curriculum at school in India. That was 31 years ago 😅 it was such a powerful (thought so then) story, that it stayed in my mind. Same for Marion Crawford's Upper Berth. I was looking for an audiobook of the latter when I remembered this one. The fact that the story had a connection to India (albeit fantastical) tickled me then.
Wow, @desi4peace! It's incredible to hear that this story was a part of your school curriculum 31 years ago in India and that it left such a lasting impression on you. Stories have a powerful way of connecting us across time and cultures. We're so glad you found your way here and hope our rendition brings back fond memories. The ties to India make it even more special. Thanks for sharing this beautiful connection!
Spot on narration! I really love older short stories, but I really struggle to read them in either Finnish or English for some reason, but this makes it perfect. :)
Maybe it's just because I grew up in a world where "never as good it seems" is a common lesson in media and well... stories like these, but I have a feeling I wouldn't risk making, especially with the man's warnings. Or at least I'd learn after the first one.
Love how we're all here for our assignments and exams . I was planning to have the word doc audio narrate this for me but it sucked. This on the other hand was so well narrated!!
i wasn't bothered to read it for classwork so I came to hear it instead but boy I was not expecting it to be this dark and daaaang your reading skills are top notch good work
I think I'd always seen English classes as an opportunity to learn more stories. I can only see that in hindsight. This is one of my favorites. If you like this one, I'd also highly recommend "To Build a Fire" by Jack London. Edited for typos.
Part III In the huge new cemetery, 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 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 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 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?" 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 mantlepiece. 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 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 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 back to his bed, and a minute afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically beside him. Neither spoke, but sat 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 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. "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 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 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 only he could 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 the 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.
thank you guys man wait no im gonna listen first and get back to you :P im so excited. I love to listen to audibbooks like this at night to get me to sleep. Will tell u what i think when im finished . Night :)
It's a great read and shows how skilled Jacobs was as a writer. Why the f did the Sergeant bring it back with him is my only question. He knew it brought misfortune to everyone but he just HAD to bring it to his dear old pal Mr. White.
I'm a student not here because this was an assignment of mine, but rather for my sister's- and now I'm lamenting the fact that I never had to read this! It's such a good story and I liked listening to this alongside reading it.
I'm reading this for a 10th grade English assignment. Maybe I'll come back to read the replies to this comment years later, after I graduate and think about the old days. Great video!
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 possessed 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 stretched 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. "Sergeant-Major Morris, " he said, introducing him. The Sergeant-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 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 around a bit, you know." "Better where you are," said the Sergeant-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 Sergeant-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 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 manners were so impressive that his hearers were conscious 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 emperor, father, to begin with; then you can't be henpecked." He darted around 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 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, 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, an the old man started nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and depressing settled on all three, which lasted 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 good night, " 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 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.
This should be a film..... its just AMAZING!!! XD I'm pretty sure there is an old film somewhere out there... but having better visuals would be great...... oh and I heard the mention of this story from Bakemonogatari...XD
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 on the previous night, 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 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 connexion 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 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 slower-witted 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 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.
I first heard this story when I tuned into an afrikaans radio station. The story was told in afrikaans with sound effects added. Man that was scary. I'm here seeing if the English version holds the same caliber
I've yet to listen to this story, but I've been following the "New to CTFDN" playlist and it got me hooked :) Great horror stories get wonderfully (and to great effect) voiced and put you in the intended mood for the story. Makes me want to write one myself (got inspired in one concerning rats, won't say more) just to hear it performed, sadly I have to battle a lot of lazyness to "get to compose" it. Also, my main language is NOT English, but I've been studying it for 7 years now in college, and I may have a copy of a story I wrote for a subject, concerning psychological terror, but I remembered it being very short. I may have to edit that one as well before submitting it, but let's say I might want to explore my creative side with the motivation of getting a story so amazingly performed...
Don't know how to feel about that :P I tend to hate grammar due to a tendency I have to connect to several ideas at once and the resulting loss of clarity, at least in writing
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please tell me their are other people that have to read this for school
Definitely. We see comments from students all the time!
Me
Mr Narrator me right now lol
Yeah you do need school. It’s “there”
It was an English lit assignment for me.
I'm not here because of school, I'm here because I enjoy listening to stories and this is a good one.
Thanks Chilling Tales.♥️
same
what a loser
why? thats the worst reason
Same. As for Why? because when I had to "study" this is school I used an actual book instead of being lazy 🙃
Don’t lie
Well done, well done indeed!! I loved the background sounds, the crackling fire, the clink of glasses as I sit and listen with my own fire going on a cold night. I'll be back for more stories, I'm sure of that!
I have to read this for homework, I’ll just listen to it instead.
Good choice!
K Weaver No I’m in tenth grade.
K Weaver Like I care
I’m in the 8 grade honors class and we had to read this too.
K Weaver I have a test tomorrow on this and my teacher told us to read it the night before so that we don’t waste time reading this during the test
Here's to all the kids who had to listen to this for English class.
i have a whole test on this today
@@kotarobokuto146 Rip-
Kotaro Bokuto, das me. I gotta like 5 assignments on this
@@fishynishy6227W h e e z e I also got like five assignments on this back then-
Yup
who else is here in quarantine for English?
Definitely
YUP
me lol
me this sucks but I go back on tuesday
🦈
the fire cracking in the background made this much more enjoyable.
I have to write about this for a school project lol.
VelstryoxDP ugh me too
so do i :(
VelstryoxDP me too
VelstryoxDP me too I even forgot who Hebert white is
I don't.
Now that's interesting.
I think mostly everyone is here for a project or assignment😂
yep we in the same boat bro
yep
Ur not wrong...
yup my assignment is a week late and it’s the last week of the grading period so i gotta do it😭
@@kyleeharlow9427 oh dam that sucks
I love the tone of voice the Sargent Major has. Relaxing and haunting..
Hey man. I love you.
🥺
It’s okay now
so i had to read this for my english class and i waited till the last day "oops" and i was excepting a horrible audiobook but this was amazing and very expressive
Bri Jackson dat is me Rn 😆
same... hjxjxhjx
omfg I dont even remember typing this comment about my first year English class homework LMAO
@@brijackson3629 omg what a throw back iddjnxxkdkxj
pov: you’re an 8th grade english student and this feels like the billionth time hearing this story, despite the first time reading it was only a month ago
It does have quite a few themes that have been recycled over the centuries!
How did you know lmao-
I had to do this in 7th grade to, but since it was all acked up last year I barley did it
English major junior in college :')
Literally in 8th grade and I have to listen to this for a assignment 😭
the monkey's paw is a symbol of desire and greed, everything that its owner could possibly wish for and the unrestricted ability to make it happen.
*"Be careful what you wish for"*
i wish to have all As in school
Yep, we can wish for things all we want but everything comes with a consequence
I wish I had 20 billion dollars
I wish for infinite wishes
So ill never run out!
"She then waited patiently as long as her sex would permit" it's crazy hearing things like that in this day and age!
Victorian men understood women it seems 😂😂
yeah, it was a pretty interesting line.
could someone explain this line to me?
brooklyn m. I think it means “she then waited patiently as a woman should.” Or, “she waited patiently. After all that’s what women do.”
Adwin The Deer thank you!
makes you wonder what would happen if they opened the door before the last wish.
oo woo
Search on youtube the monkey paw theres 2 movies one more modern where you see the son standing in the door
@Mia Bajic for his son to be dead again.
The son would be there all mangle for the father did not wish him to be alive and well like he was before the accident
@Walter The Terrible he would've prolly be like a corpse or there would be a zombie apocalypse
I listen to this every time it's Halloween season... It's so damn good.
Same here.😃🎃
That’s weird
Heh sChOol
Mildred Fish are you a kid
You’re definitely a kid.
I am a very simple person, doesn't take much to satisfy me, my goodness. these stories have always been my guilty pleasure. thank you so much.
You're welcome!
Slide 4
I remember reading this story in middle school...it resonated with me and I never forgot the uncomfortable feeling I got near the end when the son was brought back from the dead. Now, being older, and hearing the story read aloud intensifies every emotion - the woman's grief and her husband's terror and the dread of finding out what is beyond the door. Fantastic story. Fantastic narration. And with the beautiful moral of "be careful what you wish for".
This was on my assignment too for my school
Same here bestie 💜💜💛💛
Same
Years ago I always listened to the CBS Radio Mystery Theater with E.G. Marshall. Lying in bed in the dark those stories usually scared me to death and I loved it. These productions remind me of that time. Thanks!
I had to do this for homework and this really helped Thanks!
im doing it for homework now are you still reading it as your topic in class
I had heard about the story of The Monkey's Paw, but I hadn't actually read it or in this case listened to it.
I had been reading to old Celtic folklore and it's quite interesting how in these stories that had to do with wish granting creatures and objects, they always insist on you to be very specific with them. In the Celtic tales it was the faeries who could grant wishes (for a price) and the story was very clear on the fact that while faeries have a general understanding of the human language, they can't understand things like double meanings, indirectness and sarcasm. The person who made the wish would usually meet a terrible fate just because they weren't specific enough.
A similar theme happens in Ancient Greek myths, when the Olympian gods would grant a wish but always twist the wish so that it ended in nightmarish results. Such as Cassandra! One version of her legend states she wish for the gift of prophecy, but it came with the condition that no one would believe her predictions, and she was unable to prevent war and disaster.
Any examples/suggestions?
No matter how many times I hear this story it always rattles me. Thanks, and happy to be a patron.
This is one story I could here over again and still enjoy it,but I would have a little fun with the story,when the father wished for two hundred pounds he would wake up to find out he gained two hundred pounds.
Ha, that's what I thought/wished would've happened!
😂😂😂
what a fantastic way to begin my day. i always loved this little story.
My students LOVE this reading. So much better than reading aloud. Thanks!
Thanks for sharing it with everyone!
@N Ryan XD
Tbh we got blocks and I cant Imagine being a teacher reading the same 15 pages to 3 different groups of kids it's more difficult than you think @N Ryan
It just might be that teachers are busy.
I’m actually a highly effective rated teacher. It’s called differentiation. Teenagers cannot sit still day in-day out doing the same thing . Listening to a chilling reading builds Interest in a story and it’s a great activating strategy. Do I read aloud? Sure. Do my students read independently, in small groups, round robin, popcorn, etc.? Absolutely. Nothing wrong with using a recording a couple times a year for a change up.
Not to mention, not all students have the same learning styles. Some are AUDITORY listeners. An engaging recording with sound effects is the perfect way to help them retain content.
So am I still a lazy teacher? And if I am, please explain to me your qualifications to judge an educator.
This reading was excellent! Super enjoyable to go back to an old story like this, and all the ambiance and music was a wonderful addition.
(Being in your twenties is great because you can go enjoy all those old reading assignments without needing to do any worksheets on them 😎)
love the background ambiance ! good job everyone !
I wonder what would have happened had the father wished "The health and well being of my family"
Given how cynical the magic is, my guess is nothing about their current lives would have changed. Or maybe some far off relative would have died who had left them a ton of money.
Carmyn D or Maybe, their health would be restored only for them to suffer a tragic accident that kills or seriously maims them all.
Maybe the mothers family would get killed since he asked for "his" family
OMG I H. A. T. E. horror movies, shows, audio, and this kind of stuff . ........ But..... I am hooked on this channel! Amazing! The actors are so talented, the sound effects are insanely good, professional sounding not garage recordings. Thanks for changing my mind after 30 years of not liking scary stories! I'm sharing you with everyone I know!
it’s hard for me to read this without the audio. i’m glad i found this
It would have been hilarious if at the end when she opens the door and it's this Italian guy with an Italian accent and he's like " hey it's ah Marco's Pizza I ah gotcha your extra large pepperoni pizza "
Omg this cracked me up
this comment made school that much more fun bfkjlnjkfheiuvno
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahaahahhahahahahaahahahhaahhaahahahahahhahaahahhahahaahahahha so funny bro first bro ham HEY ITS AH MARCOS PIZZA
Large pepperoni: Yes
Hotel: Marcos pizza, trivago
The M O N K E S PAW HAAAAAAAAAAAA
Plankton: Get of my way kid
Mom: Hey you can talk to my son like that
Plankton: I can talk to him however I want you old hag
Dad: Dot talk to my wife like that
Plankton: Why don’t you shut up and lose some wait
Grandma: Hey don’t talk to my son like that!
Plankton: Shut up and move you old bag of bones
In the end: plankton rosted the whole family
@@capncook2006 k
@@nevaeh7720 k
This is the best British short horror story of all time! This is a unique masterpiece!At the end of the story It freezes your backbone!
We read this last year in my English Literature class and I loved it! The stories that are on this channel are really good and give me the creeps. I can't wait to listen to more of them!! :D
I have to remind myself this was written over a hundred years ago and brings so much tension at the end that still has be at the edge of my seat.
Yeah, I imagine it would have ended a lot differently if they had a Ring doorbell. 🤣
Such a fantastic classic tale.
I had an assignment for this and I was listening to this while reading, it really helped. Thanks!
It's a very old story, One of my favorites and it still scares me a bit :)
Your channel always manages to bring great stories to life thanks to everyone involved. Thank you to ALL of you. Actors, Authors, sound and music design, SFX, ect. All of you are amazing at what you do. Keep up the great work.
KaritaWinchester Thank you very much!
I got a whole test on this tomorrow 🤦🏾♀️
Smh
SAME DATS WHY IM WATCHJNG IT
@@billyemmi4688 just go on quizlet I think itll give all answers without you working for the answers
Philiciaa I have to write an essay 😔
Did u pass?
Is nobody going to talk about how the soldier’s voice sounds SO soothing?! I love it.
Awwww man!! >=( I wanted to meet the dead son! Great reading tho! I dug the sound effects. definilly added a creepy ambiance.
Agreed. I think the tension could have been carried through with the reveal of the son, the the father frantically wishing him dead again. It feels like they built up to a really cool climax and then dropped the ball; all the tension deflated like a sad balloon
I love the ending in all honesty the fact that we never see what was outside the door just makes it more terrifying.
The three wishes always came true but with a sinister twist.
@@Playswithsquirrels311 I agree
What a classy reenactment of a classic story beautiful hope you guys do more!
G Gachette We're not going anywhere!
Thank god love you guys! !!!!!
Great story!!!!❤❤❤❤
I fucking love these I have no idea why this channel isn't as huge as mcp, theyre quality and sfx are amazing holy shit
*their
u made this comment 5 years ago
i didn’t want to have to read this so i used this audio thanks man
If you look in the mirror and say, "creepypasta" three times,..... nothing will happen. :(
If you look in the mirror and say,"creepypasta" loudly three times in midnight.
Your mom will make you shut up.
lol
You will see the reflection of a fuckwit.
I was crazy once
Chilling Tales For Dark Nights, thank u for uploading this masterpiece.
I love this story. Just listening to this allows my mind to roll along with what's going on. Yes, I did get scared.
Truly a master class in how to go from a innocuous beginning to a surprisingly creepy ending, and that goes for the text and the narration.
How come this tale manages to capture the feeling of "the uncanny" so precisely without ever showing (or rather, describing) that fron which it originates?
Amazing narration, gave a breathe of fresh air to such a musty classic; nice work!!!
Is this the greatest short horror story ever written? I think so.
I am here because it was part of my reading curriculum at school in India. That was 31 years ago 😅 it was such a powerful (thought so then) story, that it stayed in my mind. Same for Marion Crawford's Upper Berth. I was looking for an audiobook of the latter when I remembered this one. The fact that the story had a connection to India (albeit fantastical) tickled me then.
Wow, @desi4peace! It's incredible to hear that this story was a part of your school curriculum 31 years ago in India and that it left such a lasting impression on you. Stories have a powerful way of connecting us across time and cultures. We're so glad you found your way here and hope our rendition brings back fond memories. The ties to India make it even more special. Thanks for sharing this beautiful connection!
Spot on narration! I really love older short stories, but I really struggle to read them in either Finnish or English for some reason, but this makes it perfect. :)
Maybe it's just because I grew up in a world where "never as good it seems" is a common lesson in media and well... stories like these, but I have a feeling I wouldn't risk making, especially with the man's warnings. Or at least I'd learn after the first one.
I read this story in school and loved it ever since. Hearing it in this format matches the voice I had in my head reading it. Very well done!!!
read this back in high school and i’m back here again cause i just want to listen to it again for fun a couple years later
It's gettin better and better :P
Thank you--my students loved it!
I like listening to these stories
Your a weirdo
The story and sound affects be amazing
Seeing comments from nine years ago doing assignments for it, same here. Everyone sharing the 8th grade bruh😭😭😭
This is one of my favorite stories 😍 thank you !
Thank you so much puting the video I had a test about the story
Glad we could help!
Love how we're all here for our assignments and exams . I was planning to have the word doc audio narrate this for me but it sucked. This on the other hand was so well narrated!!
Thanks, I have a homework due tomorrow and I forgot my book, saved me tbh lol.
Thanks so much lol this is so help full for when you need to get ur homework done at the last second
Glad we could help!
Who is is bored and has to watch this during school ->
Hi. Yea that's me right now, plus a strict sub, and i anna go home and lay on the couch and watch Grey's Anotamy
i wasn't bothered to read it for classwork so I came to hear it instead but boy I was not expecting it to be this dark and daaaang your reading skills are top notch good work
I’m listening to this instead of actually reading the book. Thank you so much for this, I have to do a school project on this
I love these type of stories
I always thought this story was so frightening and so heartbreakingly sad at the same time... :(
Really good recording! Thanks for the upload =)
I think I'd always seen English classes as an opportunity to learn more stories. I can only see that in hindsight. This is one of my favorites. If you like this one, I'd also highly recommend "To Build a Fire" by Jack London.
Edited for typos.
Great job with the video and this was the first video from this TH-cam channel I ever saw.
Damn, JARVIS really excels at everything... including storytelling!
You did it! I'm so happy!!!
Part III
In the huge new cemetery, 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 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 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 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?"
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 mantlepiece. 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 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 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 back to his bed, and a minute afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically beside him.
Neither spoke, but sat 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 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.
"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 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 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 only he could 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 the 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.
me reading this the same time the video is saying it...
like how did you have time for this?
@@kamyiahhCopy paste from online
I love this story.
this is for my school i thought this was a normal thing until i clicked on the link damit
thank you guys man wait no im gonna listen first and get back to you :P im so excited. I love to listen to audibbooks like this at night to get me to sleep. Will tell u what i think when im finished . Night :)
Matt Holder
You can sleep after. . .this? 🐵
We never heard back from you 4 years later. 😱
Need too do this for home work
I'm just here to hear this story again. 😊 I remember having an assignment on it back in high school though.
It's a great read and shows how skilled Jacobs was as a writer. Why the f did the Sergeant bring it back with him is my only question. He knew it brought misfortune to everyone but he just HAD to bring it to his dear old pal Mr. White.
Fate
I'm a student not here because this was an assignment of mine, but rather for my sister's- and now I'm lamenting the fact that I never had to read this! It's such a good story and I liked listening to this alongside reading it.
I'm reading this for a 10th grade English assignment. Maybe I'll come back to read the replies to this comment years later, after I graduate and think about the old days. Great video!
we had to read this in our reading class :^)
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 possessed 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 stretched 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.
"Sergeant-Major Morris, " he said, introducing him.
The Sergeant-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 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 around a bit, you know."
"Better where you are," said the Sergeant-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 Sergeant-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 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 manners were so impressive that his hearers were conscious 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 emperor, father, to begin with; then you can't be henpecked."
He darted around 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 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, 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, an the old man started nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and depressing settled on all three, which lasted 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 good night, " 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 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.
@@jennimarro they have 2 more parts to this I don't think they just copied this.
@@jennimarro ok yea you have a point.
This story scared me. I just came here out of morbid curiosity to this things lore. Now I’m going to have nightmares
This should be a film..... its just AMAZING!!! XD
I'm pretty sure there is an old film somewhere out there...
but having better visuals would be great......
oh and I heard the mention of this story from Bakemonogatari...XD
AnimeFun4Every1 Tales From The Crypt had an episode based on this story.
I think this was an episode of 'Tales From the Darkside'.
Nine Lives lol
Why this have 666 mil views? 😭
you are beyond retarded
This story contains a fundamental error:
Mr. White is supposed to be THE ONE WHO KNOCKS.
[citation needed]
Is he though?
haha funny breaking bad reference
Excellent! Well done.
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 on the previous night, 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 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 connexion 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 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 slower-witted 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 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.
THANK YOU BABE
As a dyslexic person I’m so happy I found this, reading utterly sucks and hurts my brain
A classic for sure. Beware!
I first heard this story when I tuned into an afrikaans radio station. The story was told in afrikaans with sound effects added. Man that was scary. I'm here seeing if the English version holds the same caliber
I've yet to listen to this story, but I've been following the "New to CTFDN" playlist and it got me hooked :) Great horror stories get wonderfully (and to great effect) voiced and put you in the intended mood for the story. Makes me want to write one myself (got inspired in one concerning rats, won't say more) just to hear it performed, sadly I have to battle a lot of lazyness to "get to compose" it. Also, my main language is NOT English, but I've been studying it for 7 years now in college, and I may have a copy of a story I wrote for a subject, concerning psychological terror, but I remembered it being very short. I may have to edit that one as well before submitting it, but let's say I might want to explore my creative side with the motivation of getting a story so amazingly performed...
+maxwinterwolf66 Your written English is better than that of most U.S. college students.
Don't know how to feel about that :P I tend to hate grammar due to a tendency I have to connect to several ideas at once and the resulting loss of clarity, at least in writing
+maxwinterwolf66 hey you be good writing english