by O. Henry
Several weeks later he said:
“This is the first opportunity I have had to hold ‘mind’ with you.
“Interesting expression that, zvhen one realizes hozu true it is that mind is the only real point of contact, although when on your plane we speak only of the physical nearness of others.
“Is it true that the hour is to be re-established? If that is the case, zue ought to turn out something zvorth while.”
On being told that the poem, “Sleeping,” which he had given us, was to be read to the Poetry Society, it seemed to appeal to his sense of humor, for he said:
“If I was not to all appearances dead, that would be my death. I shall have a fearful attack of stage-fright. I do hope they won’t call ‘Author!’
“I like this house. It is so restful and harmonious. It is a smiling island of loveliness in a black sea of pitch. I shall stretch here at ease tonight and rest and live happily.”
A. Houghton Pratt.
OVER THERE
O. Henry’s Ghost Answers the Questions of a Newspaper Man Regarding “Over There”
SO he desires to know how we folks live? Queer! the idea humanity hugs to its breast of how different life must of necessity be over here.
Tell him that at present it is New York at its worst, on a day of celebration, — with streets crowded, people pushing in all directions, friends meeting, exchanging greetings and passing on. To us life is the same, with the exception that now time is no longer a factor.
Our emotions are the same — until we learn the wisdom of eliminating all unworthy ones.
Our desires the same — only now they are satisfied almost immediately. We desire to eat and we have food. All is the same, only of finer material, not so dense.
It is as if we were in airships above you — seeing all, comprehending all, and yet unable to make you hear. To the few are given ears attuned to hear and eyes which behold, but humanity as a whole is blind.
If you could by any method make the world realize that to us here each and every THOUGHT affects us more poignantly than all the sentences uttered and that we are uplifted and made joyous by each thought of love sent out, no matter to whom, all hate would vanish from the earth.
Clothing? Just the same as ever, only we are glad to discard the old garments for new ones more beautiful, after we have been here for a while, and when that desire comes, the material is at hand with which to create new garments. Verily, over here thoughts become things quickly.
There are those here who do not aspire for newer or better things, and so they remain in their same condition.
Aspiration is the force here which pushes you on to better and greater achievements Houses? Certainly we have them; each one to his liking, for he builds it as he desires, with the aid of others; all lend helping hands over here, and life becomes a proper mixture of work, play and study.
Yes, there are places where hate, envy and all the evils still hold sway, and if those are the things which you enjoy, you dwell in that locality.
Whatever you in your soul desire you receive. Ask and it is given you; seek higher and you find; and it is truly to be said: “As a man thinketh so he receives and is.”
Naturally, people of the world are going to say “O. H. cannot write from above — if what he says is true, he would be below.” Having spent several years in Hell — on earth — after I arrived in this country I was mighty glad to change my environment when I discovered where I had been dwelling, — and that there was no need of remaining, unless I wished, — so I gave notice to the landlord I was moving at once.
The earth is a pretty poor place when you make a hell out of it, and it might be a heaven if we would only have faith, love and aspire.
The world is on a precipice and New York is tottering on the edge! Will you wake up and save yourselves or will you once more be swept away by the flood?
FOREWORD
“I wish to tell the world what is theirs for the asking.
To try and give them a new viewpoint — in place of their erroneous ideas.
Before, I wrote what the Self saw only — now it is what I know”
MY TUSSLE WITH THE DEVIL
IT was the hour when souls simply cling to their bodies by the merest thread — when I met His Satanic Majesty.
He is well named, for he is majestic in every sense of the word — majestic of mien — majestic of gesture, of expression, and a god to look upon.
He is a deceptive person, for one meeting him casually would think he was one of the great and good men of the day — abroad on errands of mercy and with kindness in his heart for all humanity. So carefully does he conceal his identity that he resembles most of mankind — who are one person to themselves and quite another to the world of men.
We met. He knew me, but I had not yet had the pleasure of knowing this majestic lord — or thought I had not — and so was flattered when he accosted me and made me welcome.
“I was told you were coming, and so came to meet you,” he said, with a smile of geniality. “We hoped to have greeted you earlier.”
“Just a minute,” I said. “Who are you? Who told you I was coming?”
Making a sweeping gesture, and ignoring my questions, he continued:
“Our land is fair — as you see — but there are many wonders which I desire to show you. Wonders which are unheard of — not even dreamt of — and which will make you desire to remain among us, I feel confident.”
With this, my arm was taken in friendly fashion, and we proceeded up an avenue lined with trees perfect in form and foliage — passed handsome houses, with playing fountains, flowers, and birds in abundance.
With a magnificent gesture he swept all this out of the way. “The homes of our servants. We enter now the domains of those who rule and where we hope you will abide.”
The turn of the street brought us to an estate situated on the crest of a magnificent mountain. Winding roads of dazzling whiteness and smoothness led through a garden of flowers and wonderful trees. Running streams made music, and the song of birds — with brilliant plumage.
With no word spoken — but many implied by gesture and nod — we reached at last the mansion. Transparent — the walls seemed — heavy the air, with perfume. It was a palace of dreams — resting in the hollow of my hand.
With a smile of winning sweetness he said:
“This is yours. Will you rest?”
“Mine! For what?” I exclaimed.
“Do you give palaces like this to all your visitors?”
“Not to all,” he answered; “only to our favored ones.”
“Why am I so favored, then? What have I done to bring me this?”
“Nothing,” he answered, “as yet, but we have hopes of great things from you. We expect you will be of great benefit to us; will aid us in promoting our cause.”
“And how?” I queried.
“Come, let us sit and sup and we will talk it over,”
Leading me gently forward, we entered a banqueting hall, where costly viands and sparkling wines reposed among flowers: and gold and silver, and ruby and diamond, sapphire and emerald decked each goblet — while behind our places were fair women, who smiled and breathed perfume upon the air.
Too Hazed to remonstrate, I took my place, and, unconscious of what I did, sipped my wine from its jeweled goblet.
Lifting his wine, he said: “To our better acquaintance — our Brotherhood, I hope.”
“To our better acquaintance, certainly — but what do you mean by Brotherhood?”
“That I will explain. In this mountain fastness there is a secret abode, which only the elect can enter, and where the members set in motion great events and accomplish great deeds. We have need of one like you to assist us.”
“What do you feel I can do?” I asked. “My talents are slight. I do not comprehend my selection.”
“Ah! That is not to be wondered at — for you have not correctly gauged your talents and ability.
“Do you real
ize that you have the greatest talent ever known — in one direction?”
“What!” I gasped.
“Quite true! I will tell you.
“In the beginning you were presented, by lesser gods, with a talent for love of everything, with love for the pure, for the true, for the beautiful. You aspired to be one of the unknown workers for humanity — to create beauty, in poem and song; to weave for them music which would make life an ecstacy.
To scatter happiness was your ambition. Jealousy was unknown to you, and envy a wrord you never even thought of.
Kindness was your pass-word in the realm from which you came — but we, who were observing you, recognized a power much greater than you knew — a power to work results magical in their effect — and so we came near you and sought to make your better acquaintance.
You were a shy bird, difficult to catch, however, and it took us many eons of time before we finally won your confidence.”
“What was this great ability?” I interrupted.
“You wish to know? That is well, for I see we shall be able to work more harmoniously if your interest is aroused,” he replied. “I will tell you. It was — but why should I say ‘it was/ rather, it is still, the great gift you possess, and which we desire to have you give to us in all its fullness. Let us review a bit what use you made of it.
First, you were disappointed in the love of the woman whom you desired, and so began its development — until love for man or woman had no place in your heart.
Then commenced your clear vision, which showed you the evil which was in all minds and hearts, and you recognized no one could be trusted. Ultimately, you nearly perfected that branch of your gift, and so had an honored seat at our council table — and we desire you again to take your place at its head.”
“But why?” I interrupted, “did I lose that exalted seat?”
“Alas!” he answered, “you went back to your old habits. An animal was the cause of your downfall — a mongrel cur!”
“You interest me,” I said. “Explain how that occurred.”
“You were in a forsaken village — having lost your way and wandered there — and without food. Little by little your strength left you, and you lay down under a tree, with all hope abandoned. A rustle in the dead grass aroused you, and presently a tiny, mangy dog crept up and licked your hand.
The relief from the loneliness was so great that you foolishly took the cur in your arms.”
“Foolishly!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, foolishly; for that was the beginning of your loss of power. True, the animal led you out to safety and warmth, eventually. But what a seed was sown!
Where before the harvest was well-nigh perfect, it now had the weeds of Pity and Gratitude So do the mighty fall!
That was a fatal sowing and reaping for you, for it even affected your view of men. You commenced to see in them bits of character before unseen. Such useless things as Consideration, Love and Pity!
Your habits, too, were affected by this poisonous weed. Where before you had been perfect in all ways vile, you now commenced to give up some of the most brilliant jewels — betrayal of women — the excitement and joy of perfect and exhilarating wines. Why! you even went so low as to prefer sparkling waters from Nature’s sources.”
Holding my jeweled goblet high, I laughed and said: “To what depths can man sink!”
“Ah! I rejoice to see you agree with me. It is well’ We shall succeed together admirably, I feel sure,” he made answer.
Then, drawing closer to me, “Now to our desires and agreement.”
“By all means,” I replied. “I am eager to hear your plan. For, certainly, if this domain is part of the reward, it interests me.”
“Good! That is better,” he replied.
“When you first left our abode and joined with others, who had contrary beliefs, we felt it was final — but as we watched and studied your soul — for you know, of course, souls are clearly visible to us — and saw there was within it, still, the desire to con tinue as one of us, I was given the task of keeping alive that seed, and adding to its force, so that in time a bountiful harvest might repay us.
We feel that time has arrived.
As I told you, this palace, with all it contains, its vault of priceless gems — such as are on your goblet, these fair women, and hundreds like them, are yours. Any honor you feel you desire shall be granted, and you shall be the lord of whatsoever you desire to possess.”
At this I glanced around the hall. Looked at the smiling faces — slender, voluptuous forms — at the sparkling gems — at the vista which was spread before me through the open windows — and then I mused upon what I could possess in addition — all honors whatsoever I desired. Coming back, finally, to a study of His Majesty’s face, I found his eyes fixed upon me.
“Will You accept?” he asked.
“That is a little mystery, too, of yours, is it not? You ask if I will accept all that counts in the world, but you have not yet told me what I am to do for it all. Tell me that side of the mystery/’ I replied.
“Only a simple thing!
Renew your association with us and take the leadership of the band which is ready to go forth and sow broadcast the seeds which are so much craved by the world. The seeds of Hate, of Malice, of Licentiousness, of Cruelty.
Helps us to rid the world of gay- etv which is simple and wholesome. Help us to give them a greater excitement. Let us arouse the idea of limiting within their breasts — but children for game — not birds, which are only beautiful and give song, that would be tame sport!
Take the lead and aid us to sow Revenge broadcast/’
“Is that all?” I queried.
“All for the present,” he answered. “Later, new things can be brought to successful issue, if you desire. But that wall satisfy our Brotherhood for the present.”
“Let us drink to our unity,” he said, raising high his glass and look ing with flashing eyes into mine.
I rose to my feet, goblet high.
“To our Brotherhood!” I shouted; “May it be annihilated forever!”
THE CONTEST
Yucatan — Time: Midnight LIFE met Death in the room of Joe, who lay on a bed in the corner, with a pain- racked body.
Suspense as to the visitant made him almost unconscious, yet thoroughly cognizant. It was as if some part of his brain stopped, while the rest leaped away from the body — then, with a whirl which made him reel, leaped back again.
Gazing at him from a chair which stood in front of the fire was a softly clad woman. In her hands was myrtle and thyme, which made mysterious shadows upon the wall.
His humble room seemed decorated by a master hand. Each individual article took on a luster hitherto unknown.
With a movement, however, his eyes were brought back to the door, through which a figure slowly entered. It was radiant with a light which dazzled. Entering slowly, it stopped at the foot of his bed and said, in a voice sweeter than any music ever heard.
“I am Death! Will you come with me to a Summerland where there is only joy, and pain is unknown?”
“Death!” he gasped. “You, Death! But you do not look as I thought Death did! You are beautiful!”
“Yes,” replied the figure, “I am the most beautiful of all, except one, but my gifts are more beautiful than all.
I bring surcease from trials, freedom from pain, shelter from all storms and peace.
I, — who am so much feared by mankind, — have only joy and happiness.
Make ready and come with me!
I promise you all you have ever longed for — sunshine, flowers and beauty.”
Keeping his eyes riveted on the figure, Joe sat erect and said:
“How am I to know you are not fooling me? You don’t look like Death. I don’t believe you!”
The figure smiled.
“That is not unusual,” it replied, “for men have a false idea of me. They think I am old and hideous and take from them all they hold dear.
I give them the opportunity of seeing how and why they failed.
I watch their silly strivings for wealth, their many useless mansions, their hates and loves — which are only envy in fancy dress — knowing the time will come when they will be obliged to open the door to me.
Some welcome me, for they have built their mansion and know it only awaits their coming; that joy and happiness are theirs — love, free from all malice, and beauty in every form.
They welcome me, because they have built their home on rock and it stands with door open to receive them, and they are not afraid, but rejoice.
“Others, however, fear me and refuse to look at me, saying, ‘You are ugly! Go away!’ And they shut their ears and refuse to be comforted.
They are afraid, for they have no mansion to which to go, but are homeless and feel that they are outcasts. Why? Not because of me, but because they have forgotten to prepare their mansion and so are homeless and beggars. They cling to worn-out trumpery, keeping much more from them than they possess.
Give up this mansion of yours and come and follow me to new fields which are filled to overflowing.”
Joe still stared too much overcome to reply, when from the chair by the tire a figure arose.
It was clad in soft clinging garments, with a veil which hid the face, and the voice was deep and harsh, with an undertone of sadness.
“Wait! Not yet can he give you his answer. He must choose between us.”
At this Joe turned his eyes toward the new speaker, and seemed to find once again the ability to speak.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Life!” the figure replied. “Life! With all its dreams, its passions, its joys. Life! which has given you all your pain and misery. Life! which has snatched from you all your youth, your joy, and given you only disillusionment!
Life! which promised you happiness, health, wealth, fame!
Life! which dances and sings and has no need for tomorrow. Will you stay with me? See! I hold out to you healing herbs that will bring for- getfulness and give you power to go on and achieve what you desire.