The Magic Story By Frederick Van Rensselaer Dey
The story starts with the following statement:
“My task is done. I have written the recipe for “success.” If followed, it cannot fail. Wherein I may not be entirely comprehended, the plus-entity of whosoever reads will supply the deficiency; and upon that Better Self of mine, I place the burden of imparting to generations that are to come, the secret of this all-pervading good, – the secret of being what you have it within you to be.”
It is claimed that many who read or hear this story almost immediately begin to have good fortune – so it is worth a few minutes of your time to find out if it works for you?
How The Magic Story Was Found
I was sitting alone in the cafe and had just reached for the sugar preparatory to putting it into my coffee. Outside, the weather was hideous. Snow and sleet came swirling down, and the wind howled frightfully. Every time the outer door opened, a draft of unwelcome air penetrated the uttermost corners of the room.
Still I was comfortable.
The snow and sleet and wind conveyed nothing to me except an abstract thanksgiving that I was where it could not affect me. While I dreamed and sipped my coffee, the door opened and closed, and admitted – Sturtevant. Sturtevant was an undeniable failure, but, withal, an artist of more than ordinary talent. He had, however, fallen into the rut traveled by ne’er-do-wells, and was out at the elbows as well as insolvent.
As I raised my eyes to Sturtevant’s I was conscious of mild surprise at the change in his appearance. Yet he was not dressed differently. He wore the same threadbare coat in which he always appeared, and the old brown hat was the same. And yet there was something new and strange in his appearance. As he swished his hat around to relieve it of the burden of snow deposited by the howling nor’wester, there was something new in the gesticulation.
I could not remember when I had invited Sturtevant to dine with me, but involuntarily I beckoned to him. He nodded and presently seated himself opposite to me. I asked him what he would have, and he, after scanning the bill of fare carelessly, ordered from it leisurely, and invited me to join him in coffee for two.
I watched him in stupid wonder, but, as I had invited the obligation, I was prepared to pay for it, although I knew I hadn’t sufficient cash to settle the bill. Meanwhile I noticed the brightness of his usual lackluster eyes, and the healthful, hopeful glow upon his cheek, with increasing amazement.
“Have you lost a rich uncle?” I asked. “No,” he replied, calmly, “but I have found my mascot.” “Brindle, bull or terrier?” I inquired. “Currier,” said Sturtevant, at length,
pausing with his coffee cup half way to his lips, “I see that I have surprised you. It is not strange, for I am a surprise to myself. I am a new man, a different man, – and the alteration has taken place in the last few hours.
You have seen me come into this place ‘broke’ many a time, when you have turned away, so that I would think you did not see me. I knew why you did that. It was not because you did not want to pay for a dinner, but because you did not have the money to do it. Is that your check? Let me have it. Thank you. I haven’t any money with me tonight, but I, – well, this is my treat.”
read more to-morrow >>>> He called the waiter to him …
I’m posting this 25-page ebook it in serial form … I hope you enjoy the quaint old story as much as I did!
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