Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, 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.

"Morris said the things happened so naturally," said his father, "that you might, if you so wished, attribute it to coincidence."

"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."

"We had the first wish granted," said the old woman feverishly; "why not the second?"
"A coincidence," stammered the old man.

"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?"

He raised his hand. "I wish my son alive again."

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.

His hand grasped the monkey's paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed.

"Did you give him anything for it, Father?" inquired Mrs. White, regarding her husband closely.
"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."

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."

desert
名詞
[複数形で] 当然の報い，相応の賞[罰] 《★【用法】 悪い場合が多い》.
get [meet with] one's (just) deserts 相応の賞[罰]を受ける.
［古期フランス語 ‘deserved' の意］

road
3 : a route or way to an end, conclusion, or circumstance
on the road to success

老いたホワイト夫妻と彼らの息子ハーバートは、インドの行者が作った猿の手のミイラを、知り合いのモリス曹長からもらい受けた。モリスが言うには、猿の手には魔力が宿っていて、持ち主の望みを3つだけ叶える力があるらしい。だがそれは、「定められた運命を無理に変えようとすれば災いが伴う」との教訓を示すためのものであり、自分も悩まされたという理由で渡すことを渋るモリスから、ホワイトは半ば強引にもらい受けたのだった。ハーバートが冗談半分で家のローンの残りを払うのに200ポンドが欲しいと言ったため、ホワイトはそれを願うが、その時は何も起こらなかった。
翌日、ハーバートが勤務先の工場で機械に挟まれて死んだとの知らせがホワイト夫妻のもとへ届く。会社は賠償を認めないが、日頃の勤労の報酬として金一封である200ポンドをホワイト夫妻に支払った。
ホワイト夫妻はハーバートの死を嘆き悲しんだ。そしてある夜、どうしてもあきらめきれない妻は、ホワイトにハーバートを猿の手で生き返らせてほしいと懇願する。ホワイトはハーバートの凄惨な死体を見ていたので懸命に妻をなだめるが、半狂乱になって訴える彼女を断り切れず、2つ目の願いをかけた。しばしの後、ホワイト夫妻は自宅のドアを何者かがノックする音に気付く。ハーバートが帰ってきたと思った妻は狂喜して迎え入れようとするが、その結果を想像して恐怖したホワイトは猿の手に「息子を墓に戻せ」と最後の願いをかける。すると、激しいノックの音は突然途絶えた。
結局、平凡な日常にささやかな抵抗を試みたホワイト夫妻は、大きな代償を払って元の日常に戻った。