Father and son were playing chess. The father's ideas about the game involved some very crazy moves such as putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary danger that it even brought a comment from the white-haired old lady knitting quietly by the fire.
He took the paw and holding it between his front finger and thumb. He then tossed it into the fire. Mr. White quickly bent down and took it out of the fire.
I wish for my son to be dead again!
At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he stopped to light another and at the same moment, a knock sounded on the front door.
“The top lock,” she yelled loudly. “Come down because I can’t reach it.”
“I wish my son was dead again.”
The knocking suddenly stopped. He heard the door opened. A cold wind blew up the stairs and a loud cry of disappointment and pain from his wife.