He had arrived in the store just before Christmas when there had been a lovely big tree in the window , all decorated with fairy lights . Yards and yards of sparkling tinsel had been draped over everything , and holiday music had been playing all the time . Wolstencroft was especially fond of Jingle Bells . He liked its light , tinkling sounds . It always made him feel merry . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But , one by one they had all gone . Gleefully waving goodbye as they were carried off to their new homes . Until finally , he was the only teddy bear left in the entire store . He had hoped that Santa Claus would drop by on Christmas Eve and deliver him to a good home . But he hadn 't . Santa had been too busy that year , delivering even more presents than usual . Wolstencroft felt sad and lonely sitting there all by himself on the shelf that was high above the Christmas cards . He longed to have a child take him home and love him and play with him . But , most of all , to hug him . For no hug is ever too big for a teddy bear . They all had very big ears and feet and long legs . All three were wearing woolen sweaters . Rita Rabbit wore a pink sweater . Roger Rabbit a green one . And Ronnie wore blue . Roger and Ronnie were twins , and Rita was their sister . " My you are a handsome bear , " Rita told Wolstencroft after the store had closed for the night . " I 'm surprised that no one has bought you and taken you home . " " So am I , " replied Wolstencroft and , although he tried very hard to stop it , a tear rolled down his furry cheek . " That 's the worst of living so far out , " bawled 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 . Pathway 's a bog , and the road 's 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 doesn 't matter . " " 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 . " His three listeners leaned forward eagerly . The visitor absentmindedly put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again . His host filled it for him . " 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 . " " 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 . " 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 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 . " " 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 again , like a sensible man . " " A trifle , " said he , coloring 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 . " 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 . " They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes . Outside , the wind was higher than ever , and the old man started nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs . A silence unusual and depressing settled upon all three , which lasted until the old couple rose to retire for the night . " 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 ? " 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 connection 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 furtively at Mrs . White , 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 . 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 he eyed the other wistfully . She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other 's averted face . She caught her breath , and turning to her slower - witted husband , laid her trembling old hand upon his . There was a long silence . The other coughed , and rising , walked slowly to the window . " The firm wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss , " he said , without looking around . " I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and merely obeying orders . " In the huge new cemetery , some two miles distant , the old people buried their dead , and came back to a house steeped in shadow 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 expectation gave place 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 about a week after that 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 . The sound 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 cry from his wife awoke him with a start . 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 ? " " I only just thought of it , " she said hysterically . " Why didn 't I think of it before ? Why didn 't you think of it ? " Her husband struck a match and lit the candle . " Get back to bed , " he said unsteadily . " You don 't know what you are saying . " He went down in the darkness , and felt his way to the parlor , and then to the mantelpiece . 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 upon 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 around 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 . 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 to his bed , and a minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically beside him . Neither spoke , but both lay 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 , the husband took the box of matches , and striking one , went downstairs for a candle . The matches fell from his hand . 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 . " 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 . " " 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 bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the socket . Then the old woman 's voice , strained and panting . But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in search of the paw . If he could only 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 courage to run down to her side , and then to the gate beyond . The streetlamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road . You 're a newcomer , ain 't you ? I thought I hadn 't seen you round before . I hope you like it good enough to stay . As I say , we ain 't no New York City or Chicago , but we have pretty good times . Not as good , though , since Jim Kendall got killed . When he was alive , him and Hod Meyers used to keep this town in an uproar . I bet they was more laughin ' done here than any town its size in America . They used to be plenty fun in here Saturdays . This place is jampacked Saturdays , from four o ' clock on . Jim and Hod would show up right after their supper round six o ' clock . Jim would set himself down in that big chair , nearest the blue spittoon . Whoever had been settin ' in that chair , why they 'd get up when Jim come in and at " it to him . Then Hod Meyers would say , " Neither would your wife . " That would set everybody to laughin ' because Jim and his wife wasn 't on very good terms . She 'd of divorced him only they wasn 't no chance to get alimony and she didn 't have no way to take care of herself and the kids . She couldn 't never understand Jim . He was kind of rough , but a good fella at heart . Him and Hod had all kinds of sport with Milt Sheppard . I don 't suppose you 've seen Milt . Well , he 's got an Adam 's apple that looks more like a mush - melon . So I 'd be shavin ' Milt and when I 'd start to shave down here on his neck , Hod would holler , " Hey , Whitey , wait a minute ! Before you cut into it , let 's make up a pool and see who can guess closest to the number of seeds . " There 's his shavin ' mug , setting on the shelf , right next to Charley Vail 's . " Charles M . Vail . " That 's the druggist . He comes in regular for his shave , three times a week . And Jim 's is the cup next to Charley 's . " dames H . Kendall . " Jim won 't need no shavin ' mug no more , but I 'll leave it there just the same for old time 's sake . Jim certainly was a character ! Years ago , Jim used to travel for a canned goods concern over in Carterville . They sold canned goods . Jim had the whole northern half of the State and was on the road five days out of every week . He 'd drop in here Saturdays and tell his experiences for that week . It was rich . You see , the concern he 'd been workin ' for was a factory that made canned goods . Over in Carterville . And now Jim said he was canned himself . He was certainly a card ! Jim had a great trick that he used to play w ' ile he was travelin ' . For instance , he 'd be ridin ' on a train and they 'd come to some little town like , well , like , well , like , we 'll say , like Benton . Jim would look out the train window and read the signs of the stores . For instance , they 'd be a sign , " Henry Smith , Dry Goods . " Well , Jim would write down the name and the name of the town and when he got to wherever he was goin ' he 'd mail back a postal card to Henry Smith at Benton and not sign no name to it , but he 'd write on the card , well somethin ' like " Ask your wife about that book agent that spent the afternoon last week , " or " Ask your Missus who kept her from gettin ' lonesome the last time you was in Carterville . " And he 'd sign the card , " A Friend . " Jim didn 't work very steady after he lost his position with the Carterville people . What he did earn , coin ' odd jobs round town why he spent pretty near all of it on gin , and his family might of starved if the stores hadn 't of carried them along . Jim 's wife tried her hand at dressmakin ' , but they ain 't nobody goin ' to get rich makin ' dresses in this town . They was a time when she would go to whoever he was workin ' for and ask them to give her his wages , but after she done this once or twice , he beat her to it by borrowin ' most of his pay in advance . He told it all round town , how he had outfoxed his Missus . He certainly was a caution ! But he wasn 't satisfied with just outwittin ' her . He was sore the way she had acted , tryin ' to grab off his pay . And he made up his mind he 'd get even . Well , he waited till Evans 's Circus was advertised to come to town . Then he told his wife and two kiddies that he was goin ' to take them to the circus . The day of the circus , he told them he would get the tickets and meet them outside the entrance to the tent . Well , he didn 't have no intentions of bein ' there or buyin ' tickets or nothin ' . He got full of gin and laid round Wright 's poolroom all day . His wife and the kids waited and waited and of course he didn 't show up . His wife didn 't have a dime with her , or nowhere else , I guess . So she finally had to tell the kids it was all off and they cried like they wasn 't never goin ' to stop . Doc Stair come here about a year and a half ago . He 's a mighty handsome young fella and his clothes always look like he has them made to order . He goes to Detroit two or three times a year and w ' ile he 's there must have a tailor take his measure and then make him a suit to order . They cost pretty near twice as much , but they fit a whole lot better than if you just bought them in a store . Then they was a story got round that Doc Stair 's gal had thronged him over , a gal up in the Northern Peninsula somewhere , and the reason he come here was to hide himself away and forget it . He said himself that he thought they wasn 't nothin ' like general practice in a place like ours to fit a man to be a good all round doctor . And that 's why he 'd came . Anyways , it wasn 't long before he was makin ' enough to live on , though they tell me that he never dunned nobody for what they owed him , and the folks here certainly has got the owin ' habit , even in my business . If I had all that was comin ' to me for just shaves alone , I could go to Carterville and put up at the Mercer for a week and see a different picture every night . For instance , they 's old George Purdy - - but I guess I shouldn 't ought to be gossipin ' . Well , last year , our coroner died , died of the flu . Ken Beatty , that was his name . He was the coroner . So they had to choose another man to be coroner in his place and they picked Doc Stair . He laughed at first and said he didn 't want it , but they made him take it . It ain 't no job that anybody would fight for and what a man makes out of it in a year would just about buy seeds for their garden . Doc 's the kind , though , that can 't say no to nothin ' if you keep at him long enough . But I was goin ' to tell you about a poor boy we got here in town - Paul Dickson . He fell out of a tree when he was about ten years old . Lit on his head and it done somethin ' to him and he ain 't never been right . No harm in him , but just silly . Jim Kendall used to call him cuckoo ; that 's a name Jim had for anybody that was off their head , only he called people 's head their bean . That was another of his gags , callin ' head bean and callin ' crazy people cuckoo . Only poor Paul ain 't crazy , but just silly . You can imagine that Jim used to have all kinds of fun with Paul . He 'd send him to the White Front Garage for a left - handed monkey wrench . Of course they ain 't no such thing as a left - handed monkey wrench . Poor Paul was always kind of suspicious of people , maybe on account of how Jim had kept foolin ' him . Paul wouldn 't have much to do with anybody only his own mother and Doc Stair and a girl here in town named Julie Gregg . That is , she ain 't a girl no more , but pretty near thirty or over . Her mother was a kind of a half invalid and didn 't hardly ever leave the house . Julie wanted to sell the place and move somewhere else after the old man died , but the mother said she was born here and would die here . It was tough on Julie as the young people round this town - - well , she 's too good for them . She 'd been away to school and Chicago and New York and different places and they ain 't no subject she can 't talk on , where you take the rest of the young folks here and you mention anything to them outside of Gloria Swanson or Tommy Meighan and they think you 're delirious . Did you see Gloria in Wages of Virtue ? You missed somethin ' ! Well , Doc Stair hadn 't been here more than a week when he came in one day to get shaved and I recognized who he was , as he had been pointed out to me , so I told him about my old lady . She 's been ailin ' for a couple years and either Doc Gamble or Doc Foote , neither one , seemed to be helpin ' her . So he said he would come out and see her , but if she was able to get out herself , it would be better to bring her to his office where he could make a completer examination . So he left my old lady inside and come out to the front office and that 's the first time him and Julie met and I guess it was what they call love at first sight . But it wasn 't fifty - fifty . This young fella was the slickest lookin ' fella she 'd ever seen in this town and she went wild over him . To him she was just a young lady that wanted to see the doctor . She 'd came on about the same business I had . Her mother had been doctorin ' for years with Doc Gamble and Doc Foote and with " out no results . So she 'd heard they was a new doc in town and decided to give him a try . He promised to call and see her mother that same day . I said a minute ago that it was love at first sight on her part . I 'm not only judgin ' by how she acted afterwards but how she looked at him that first day in his office . I ain 't no mind reader , but it was wrote all over her face that she was gone . Now Jim Kendall , besides bein ' a jokesmith and a pretty good drinker , well Jim was quite a lady - killer . I guess he run pretty wild durin ' the time he was on the road for them Carterville people , and besides that , he 'd had a couple little affairs of the heart right here in town . As I say , his wife would have divorced him , only she couldn 't . But Jim was like the majority of men , and women , too , I guess . He wanted what he couldn 't get . He wanted Julie Gregg and worked his head off tryin ' to land her . Only he 'd of said bean instead of head . Well , Jim 's habits and his jokes didn 't appeal to Julie and of course he was a married man , so he didn 't have no more chance than , well , than a rabbit . That 's an expression of Jim 's himself . When somebody didn 't have no chance to get elected or somethin ' , Jim would always say they didn 't have no more chance than a rabbit . He didn 't make no bones about how he felt . Right in here , more than once , in front of the whole crowd , he said he was stuck on Julie and anybody that could get her for him was welcome to his house and his wife and kids included . But she wouldn 't have nothin ' to do with him ; wouldn 't even speak to him on the street . He finally seen he wasn 't gettin ' nowheres with his usual line so he decided to try the rough stuff . He went right up to her house one evenin ' and when she opened the door he forced his way in and grabbed her . But she broke loose and before he could stop her , she run in the next room and locked the door and phoned to Joe Barnes . Joe 's the marshal . Jim could hear who she was phonin ' to and he beat it before Joe got there . I don 't know how the news of this little affair leaked out . Chances is that Joe Barnes told his wife and she told somebody else 's wife and they told their husband . Anyways , it did leak out and Hod Meyers had the nerve to kid Jim about it , right here in this shop . Jim didn 't deny nothin ' and kind of laughed it off and said for us all to wait ; that lots of people had tried to make a monkey out of him , but he always got even . Meanw ' ile everybody in town was wise to Julie 's bein ' wild mad over the Doc . I don 't suppose she had any idea how her face changed when him and her was together ; of course she couldn 't of , or she 'd of kept away from him . And she didn 't know that we was all noticin ' how many times she made excuses to go up to his office or pass it on the other side of the street and look up in his window to see if he was there . I felt sorry for her and so did most other people . One trick Jim had was the knack of changin ' his voice . He could make you think he was a girl talkie ' and he could mimic any man 's voice . To show you how good he was along this line , I 'll tell you the joke he played on me once . You know , in most towns of any size , when a man is dead and needs a shave , why the barber that shaves him soaks him five dollars for the job ; that is , he don 't soak him , but whoever ordered the shave . I just charge three dollars because personally I don 't mind much shavin ' a dead person . They lay a whole lot stiller than live customers . The only thing is that you don 't feel like talkie ' to them and you get kind of lonesome . Old John had always been a good customer of mine . But they live seven miles out in the country , on the Streeter road . Still I didn 't see how I could say no . So I said I would be there , but would have to come in a jitney and it might cost three or four dollars besides the price of the shave . So she , or the voice , it said that was all right , so I got Frank Abbott to drive me out to the place and when I got there , who should open the door but old John himself ! He wasn 't no more dead than , well , than a rabbit . It didn 't take no private detective to figure out who had played me this little joke . Nobody could of thought it up but Jim Kendall . He certainly was a card ! I tell you this incident just to show you how he could disguise his voice and make you believe it was somebody else talkie ' . I 'd of swore it was Mrs . Scott had called me . Anyways , some woman . He called Julie up on a night when he knew Doc was over in Carterville . She never questioned but what it was Doc 's voice . Jim said he must see her that night ; he couldn 't wait no longer to tell her somethin ' . She was all excited and told him to come to the house . But he said he was expectin ' an important long distance call and wouldn 't she please forget her manners for once and come to his office . He said they couldn 't nothin ' hurt her and nobody would see her and he just must talk to her a little w ' ile . Well , poor Julie fell for it . Meanw ' ile Jim Kendall had went to Wright 's poolroom , where they was a whole gang amusin ' themselves . The most of them had drank plenty of gin , and they was a rough bunch even when sober . They was always strong for Jim 's jokes and when he told them to come with him and see some fun they give up their card games and pool games and followed along . Doc 's office is on the second floor . Right outside his door they 's a flight of stairs leadin ' to the floor above . Jim and his gang hid in the dark behind these stairs . Well , tulle come up to Doc 's door and rung the bell and they was nothin ' coin ' . She rung it again and she rung it seven or eight times . Then she tried the door and found it locked . Then Jim made some kind of a noise and she heard it and waited a minute , and then she says , " Is that you , Ralph ? " Ralph is Doc 's first name . They was no answer and it must of came to her all of a sudden that she 'd been bunked . She pretty near fell downstairs and the whole gang after her . They chased her all the way home , hollerin ' , " Is that you , Ralph ? " and " Oh , Ralphie , dear , is that you ? " Jim says he couldn 't holler it himself , as he was laughin ' too hard . And of course Jim and his gang told everybody in town , everybody but Doc Stair . They was scared to tell him , and he might of never knowed only for Paul Dickson . The poor cuckoo , as Jim called him , he was here in the shop one night when Jim was still gloatin ' yet over what he 'd done to Julie . And Paul took in as much of it as he could understand and he run to Doc with the story . It 's a cinch Doc went up in the air and swore he 'd make Jim suffer . But it was a kind of a delicate thing , because if it got out that he had beat Jim up , Julie was bound to hear of it and then she 'd know that Doc knew and of course knowin ' that he knew would make it worse for her than ever . He was goin ' to do somethin ' , but it took a lot of figurin ' . Well , it was a couple days later when Jim was here in the shop again , and so was the cuckoo . Jim was goin ' duck - shootin ' the next day and had come in lookin ' for Hod Meyers to go with him . I happened to know that Hod had went over to Carterville and wouldn 't be home till the end of the week . So Jim said he hated to go alone and he guessed he would call it off . Then poor Paul spoke up and said if Jim would take him he would go along . Jim thought a w ' ile and then he said , well , he guessed a half - wit was better than nothin ' . I suppose he was plottin ' to get Paul out in the boat and play some joke on him , like pushin ' him in the water . Anyways , he said Paul could go . He asked him had he ever shot a duck and Paul said no , he 'd never even had a gun in his hands . So Jim said he could set in the boat and watch him and if he behaved himself , he might lend him his gun for a couple of shots . They made a date to meet in the mornin ' and that 's the last I seen of Jim alive . Next mornin ' , I hadn 't been open more than ten minutes when Doc Stair come in . He looked kind of nervous . He asked me had I seen Paul Dickson . I said no , but I knew where he was , out duckshootin ' with Jim Kendall . So Doc says that 's what he had heard , and he couldn 't understand it because Paul had told him he wouldn 't never have no more to do with Jim as long as he lived . He said Paul had told him about the joke Jim had played on Julie . He said Paul had asked him what he thought of the joke and the Doc told him that anybody that would do a thing like that ought not to be let live . I said it had been a kind of a raw thing , but Jim just couldn 't resist no kind of a joke , no matter how raw . I said I thought he was all right at heart , but just bubblin ' over with mischief . Doc turned and walked out . At noon he got a phone call from old John Scott . The lake where Jim and Paul had went shootin ' is on John 's place . Paul had came runnin ' up to the house a few minutes before and said they 'd been an accident . Jim had shot a few ducks and then give the gun to Paul and told him to try his luck . Paul hadn 't never handled a gun and he was nervous . He was shakin ' so hard that he couldn 't control the gun . He let fire and Jim sunk back in the boat , dead . Doc Stair , bein ' the coroner , jumped in Frank Abbott 's flivver and rushed out to Scott 's farm . Paul and old John was down on the shore of the lake . Paul had rowed the boat to shore , but they 'd left the body in it , waiting for Doc to come . Personally I wouldn 't never leave a person shoot a gun in the same boat I was in unless I was sure they knew somethin ' about guns . Jim was a sucker to leave a new beginner have his gun , let alone a half - wit . It probably served Jim right , what he got . But still we miss him round here . He certainly was a card ! Comb it wet or dry ? North Richmond Street , being blind , was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers ' School set the boys free . An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end , detached from its neighbours in a square ground . The other houses of the street , conscious of decent lives within them , gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces . The former tenant of our house , a priest , had died in the back drawing - room . Air , musty from having been long enclosed , hung in all the rooms , and the waste room behind the kitchen was littered with old useless papers . Among these I found a few paper - covered books , the pages of which were curled and damp : The Abbot , by Walter Scott , The Devout Communicant , and The Memoirs of Vidocq . I liked the last best because its leaves were yellow . The wild garden behind the house contained a central apple - tree and a few straggling bushes , under one of which I found the late tenant 's rusty bicycle - pump . He had been a very charitable priest ; in his will he had left all his money to institutions and the furniture of his house to his sister . When the short days of winter came , dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners . When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre . The space of sky above us was the colour of ever - changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns . The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed . Our shouts echoed in the silent street . The career of our play brought us through the dark muddy lanes behind the houses , where we ran the gauntlet of the rough tribes from the cottages , to the back doors of the dark dripping gardens where odours arose from the ashpits , to the dark odorous stables where a coachman smoothed and combed the horse or shook music from the buckled harness . When we returned to the street , light from the kitchen windows had filled the areas . If my uncle was seen turning the corner , we hid in the shadow until we had seen him safely housed . Or if Mangan 's sister came out on the doorstep to call her brother in to his tea , we watched her from our shadow peer up and down the street . We waited to see whether she would remain or go in and , if she remained , we left our shadow and walked up to Mangan 's steps resignedly . She was waiting for us , her figure defined by the light from the half - opened door . Her brother always teased her before he obeyed , and I stood by the railings looking at her . Her dress swung as she moved her body , and the soft rope of her hair tossed from side to side . Every morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her door . The blind was pulled down to within an inch of the sash so that I could not be seen . When she came out on the doorstep my heart leaped . I ran to the hall , seized my books and followed her . I kept her brown figure always in my eye and , when we came near the point at which our ways diverged , I quickened my pace and passed her . This happened morning after morning . I had never spoken to her , except for a few casual words , and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood . Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostile to romance . On Saturday evenings when my aunt went marketing I had to go to carry some of the parcels . We walked through the flaring streets , jostled by drunken men and bargaining women , amid the curses of labourers , the shrill litanies of shop - boys who stood on guard by the barrels of pigs ' cheeks , the nasal chanting of street - singers , who sang a come - all - you about O ' Donovan Rossa , or a ballad about the troubles in our native land . These noises converged in a single sensation of life for me : I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes . Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand . My eyes were often full of tears ( I could not tell why ) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom . I thought little of the future . I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or , if I spoke to her , how I could tell her of my confused adoration . But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires . One evening I went into the back drawing - room in which the priest had died . It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house . Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth , the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds . Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me . I was thankful that I could see so little . All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and , feeling that I was about to slip from them , I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled , murmuring : ' O love ! O love ! ' many times . At last she spoke to me . When she addressed the first words to me I was so confused that I did not know what to answer . She asked me was I going to Araby . I forgot whether I answered yes or no . It would be a splendid bazaar ; she said she would love to go . While she spoke she turned a silver bracelet round and round her wrist . She could not go , she said , because there would be a retreat that week in her convent . Her brother and two other boys were fighting for their caps , and I was alone at the railings . She held one of the spikes , bowing her head towards me . The light from the lamp opposite our door caught the white curve of her neck , lit up her hair that rested there and , falling , lit up the hand upon the railing . It fell over one side of her dress and caught the white border of a petticoat , just visible as she stood at ease . What innumerable follies laid waste my waking and sleeping thoughts after that evening ! I wished to annihilate the tedious intervening days . I chafed against the work of school . At night in my bedroom and by day in the classroom her image came between me and the page I strove to read . The syllables of the word Araby were called to me through the silence in which my soul luxuriated and cast an Eastern enchantment over me . I asked for leave to go to the bazaar on Saturday night . My aunt was surprised , and hoped it was not some Freemason affair . I answered few questions in class . I watched my master 's face pass from amiability to sternness ; he hoped I was not beginning to idle . I could not call my wandering thoughts together . I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which , now that it stood between me and my desire , seemed to me child 's play , ugly monotonous child 's play . As he was in the hall I could not go into the front parlour and lie at the window . I felt the house in bad humour and walked slowly towards the school . The air was pitilessly raw and already my heart misgave me . When I came home to dinner my uncle had not yet been home . Still it was early . I sat staring at the clock for some time and , when its ticking began to irritate me , I left the room . I mounted the staircase and gained the upper part of the house . The high , cold , empty , gloomy rooms liberated me and I went from room to room singing . From the front window I saw my companions playing below in the street . Their cries reached me weakened and indistinct and , leaning my forehead against the cool glass , I looked over at the dark house where she lived . I may have stood there for an hour , seeing nothing but the brown - clad figure cast by my imagination , touched discreetly by the lamplight at the curved neck , at the hand upon the railings and at the border below the dress . When I came downstairs again I found Mrs Mercer sitting at the fire . She was an old , garrulous woman , a pawnbroker 's widow , who collected used stamps for some pious purpose . I had to endure the gossip of the tea - table . The meal was prolonged beyond an hour and still my uncle did not come . Mrs Mercer stood up to go : she was sorry she couldn 't wait any longer , but it was after eight o ' clock and she did not like to be out late , as the night air was bad for her . When she had gone I began to walk up and down the room , clenching my fists . My aunt said : At nine o ' clock I heard my uncle 's latchkey in the hall door . I heard him talking to himself and heard the hallstand rocking when it had received the weight of his overcoat . I could interpret these signs . When he was midway through his dinner I asked him to give me the money to go to the bazaar . He had forgotten . My uncle said he was very sorry he had forgotten . He said he believed in the old saying : ' All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy . ' He asked me where I was going and , when I told him a second time , he asked me did I know The Arab 's Farewell to his Steed . When I left the kitchen he was about to recite the opening lines of the piece to my aunt . I held a florin tightly in my hand as I strode down Buckingham Street towards the station . The sight of the streets thronged with buyers and glaring with gas recalled to me the purpose of my journey . I took my seat in a third - class carriage of a deserted train . After an intolerable delay the train moved out of the station slowly . It crept onward among ruinous houses and over the twinkling river . At Westland Row Station a crowd of people pressed to the carriage doors ; but the porters moved them back , saying that it was a special train for the bazaar . I remained alone in the bare carriage . In a few minutes the train drew up beside an improvised wooden platform . I passed out on to the road and saw by the lighted dial of a clock that it was ten minutes to ten . In front of me was a large building which displayed the magical name . I could not find any sixpenny entrance and , fearing that the bazaar would be closed , I passed in quickly through a turnstile , handing a shilling to a weary - looking man . I found myself in a big hall girded at half its height by a gallery . Nearly all the stalls were closed and the greater part of the hall was in darkness . I recognized a silence like that which pervades a church after a service . I walked into the centre of the bazaar timidly . A few people were gathered about the stalls which were still open . Before a curtain , over which the words Café Chantant were written in coloured lamps , two men were counting money on a salver . I listened to the fall of the coins . Remembering with difficulty why I had come , I went over to one of the stalls and examined porcelain vases and flowered tea - sets . At the door of the stall a young lady was talking and laughing with two young gentlemen . I remarked their English accents and listened vaguely to their conversation . Observing me , the young lady came over and asked me did I wish to buy anything . The tone of her voice was not encouraging ; she seemed to have spoken to me out of a sense of duty . I looked humbly at the great jars that stood like eastern guards at either side of the dark entrance to the stall and murmured : The young lady changed the position of one of the vases and went back to the two young men . They began to talk of the same subject . Once or twice the young lady glanced at me over her shoulder . I lingered before her stall , though I knew my stay was useless , to make my interest in her wares seem the more real . Then I turned away slowly and walked down the middle of the bazaar . I allowed the two pennies to fall against the sixpence in my pocket . I heard a voice call from one end of the gallery that the light was out . The upper part of the hall was now completely dark .