Short Fiction by O. Henry (librera reader txt) 📕

me to meet her here at the office at three o’clock and go shopping with her. At the same time I got a bill for ten dollars from a merchant I owe, asking me to remit. I scribbled off a note to the merchant saying: ‘Can’t possibly do it. I’ve got to meet another little thing today that won’t be put off.’ I made the usual mistake and sent the merchant the ten dollars and my wife the note.”

“Can’t you go home and explain the mistake to your wife?”

“You don’t know her. I’ve done all I can. I’ve taken out an accident policy for $10,000 good for two hours, and I expect her here in fifteen minutes. Tell all the boys goodbye for me, and if you meet a lady on the stairs as you go down keep close to the wall.”

The Rake-Off

“Who bids?”

The auctioneer held up a child’s rocking-horse, battered and stained. It had belonged to some little member of the man’s family whose household property was being sold under the hammer.

He was utterly ruined. He had given up everything in the world to his creditors⁠—house, furniture, horses, stock of goods and lands. He stood among the crowd watching the sale that was scattering his household goods and his heirlooms among a hundred strange hands.

On his arm leaned a woman heavily veiled. “Who bids?”

The auctioneer held the rocking-horse high that it might be seen. Childish hands had torn away the scanty mane; the bridle was twisted and worn by tender little fingers. The crowd was still.

The woman under the heavy veil sobbed and stretched out her hands.

“No, no, no!” she cried.

The man was white with emotion. The little form that once so merrily rode the old rockinghouse had drifted away into the world years ago. This was the only relic left of his happy infancy.

The auctioneer, with a queer moisture in his eyes, handed the rocking-horse to the man without a word. He seized it with eager hands, and he and the veiled woman hurried away.

The crowd murmured with sympathy.

The man and the woman went into an empty room and set the rocking-horse down. He took out his knife, ripped open the front of the horse, and took out a roll of bills. He counted them and said: “It’s a cold day when I fail without a rake-off. Eight thousand five hundred dollars, but that auctioneer came very near busting up the game.”

The Telegram

Scene: Telegraph office in Houston.

Enter handsome black velour cape, trimmed with jet and braid, with Tibetan fur collar, all enclosing lovely young lady. Young lady Oh, I want to send a telegram at once, if you please. Give me about six blanks, please. Writes about ten minutes. How much will this amount to, please? Clerk Counting words. Sixteen dollars and ninety-five cents, ma’am. Young lady Goodness gracious! I’ve only thirty cents with me. Suspiciously. How is it you charge so much, when the post-office only requires two cents? Clerk We claim to deliver messages quicker than the post-office, ma’am. You can send ten words to Waco for twenty-five cents. Young lady Give me another blank, please: I guess that will be enough. After five minutes’ hard work she produces the following: “Ring was awfully lovely. Come down as soon as you can. Mamie.” Clerk This contains eleven words. That will be thirty cents. Young lady Oh, gracious! I wanted that nickel to buy gum with. Clerk Let’s see. You might strike out, “awfully,” and that will make it all right. Young lady Indeed I shan’t. You ought to see that ring. I’ll give you the thirty cents. Clerk To whom is this to be sent? Young lady It seems to me you are rather inquisitive, sir. Clerk Wearily. I assure you there is no personal interest expressed in the question. We have to know the name and address in order to send the message. Young lady Oh, yes. I didn’t think of that. She writes the name and address, pays the thirty cents and departs. Twenty minutes later she returns, out of breath. Young lady Oh, I forgot something. Have you sent it off yet? Clerk Yes, ten minutes ago. Young lady Oh, I’m so sorry. It isn’t the way I wanted it at all. Can’t you telegraph and have it changed for me? Clerk Is it anything important? Young lady Yes: I wanted to underscore the words “awfully lovely.” Will you have that attended to at once? Clerk Certainly, and we have some real nice violet extract; would you like a few drops on your telegram? Young lady Oh, yes: so kind of you. I expect to send all my telegrams through your office, you have been so accommodating. Good morning. An Opportunity Declined

A farmer who lives about four miles from Houston noticed a stranger in his front yard one afternoon last week acting in a rather unusual manner. He wore a pair of duck trousers stuffed in his boots, and had a nose the color of Elgin pressed brick. In his hand he held a sharpened stake about two feet long, which he would stick into the ground, and after sighting over it at various objects would pull it up and go through the same performance at another place.

The farmer went out in the yard and inquired what he wanted.

“Wait just a minute,” said the stranger, squinting his eye over the stick at the chicken house. “Now, that’s it to a T. You see, I’m one of de odnance corps of engineers what’s runnin’ de line of the new railroad from Columbus, Ohio, to Houston. See? De other fellers is over de hill wid de transit and de baggage. Dere’s over a million dollars in de company. See? Dey sent me on ahead to locate a place for a big passenger depot, to cost $27,000. De foundation will commence right by your chicken house. Say, I gives you a pointer. You charge ’em high for dis land. Dey’ll stand fifty thousand.