"And what is there special about it?" asked Mr. White, turning the paw over in his fingers. "It grants three wishes to three different men," said the soldier. His face was so grave that the others stopped laughing. "Have you had your three wishes?" asked Mrs. White. "I have," he said quietly, and his face whitened. "And has anybody else wished?" asked the old woman. "The first man had his three wishes, yes," said the sergeant-major. "I don't know what the first two were, but the third was for death. That was how I got the paw," he added, and his voice was low. Suddenly he stood up and threw the paw upon the fire. With a cry, Mr. White bent down and snatched it out. "Don't," said the soldier. "Let it burn." "If you keep it, don't blame me for what happens. Throw it away, like a sensible man." But Mr. White only looked at the dirty little paw and smiled. "How do you wish?" he asked. "Hold it in your right hand and wish aloud," said the soldier, "but I warn you of the results." Soon afterwards the soldier rose to go, and Mr. White walked with him to the door. After he had gone, Herbert laughed. "Well, father," he said, "wish to be rich, and we shall all be happy." Mr. White took the paw from his pocket, and held it up in his hand. "I wish for two hundred pounds," he said clearly. As he spoke, the paw twisted in his hand like a living thing, and he gave a shuddering cry. "It moved!" he cried. "As I wished, it twisted in my hand like a snake." But nothing else happened, and the family sat in silence. "Never mind," said the old man. "Let us go to bed."