"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, marvelling. "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 up 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 and 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.
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