“I suppose you are the spirit of power or of fame or something of that sort. I am not an ambitious person; money is good enough for me.”
“No, I am the spirit of health. Think well before you make your choice. Many have rejected me, and afterwards, have offered all their possessions fruitlessly, hoping to lure me to them.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Crandall, with some hesitation. “You are a very pleasant young person to have around the house. But why cannot I have both of you? How does that strike you?”
“I am very sorry, but I am not permitted to give you the choice of both.”
“Why is that? Many people are allowed to choose both.”
“I know that; still we must follow our instructions.”
“Well, if that is the case, without wishing to offend you in the least, I think I will stand by my first choice. I choose wealth.”
As he said this the other lady advanced toward him and smiled somewhat triumphantly as she held out her hand. Crandall grasped it and the first spirit sighed. Just as the spirit of wealth seemed about to speak, there was a shake at the office door, and Mr. John Crandall saw the spirits fade away. He rubbed his eyes and said to himself: “By George! I have been asleep. What a remarkably vivid dream that was.”
As he yawned and stretched his arms above his head, the impatient rattle at the door told him that at least was not a part of the dream.
He arose and unlocked the door.