Podcast 24 - B2/C1 The Man Who Could Work Miracles - Part 2

Mr Fotheringay and the vicar.

(I have highlighted in bold interesting phrases that it would be a good idea to note down and learn.)

Chapter starts at 1:22

The man who could work miracles Part 2

Mr Fotheringay awoke at his usual hour and was thoughtful all through breakfast time, wondering whether his overnight experience might not be a particularly vivid dream. After a short time, his mind turned again to cautious experiments. For instance, he had three eggs for breakfast; two his landlady had supplied, and the third was a delicious fresh goose egg, laid, cooked, and served by his extraordinary will. He hurried off to Gomshott's in a state of profound but cautious excitement. All day he could do no work because of this astonishing new knowledge, but this caused him no inconvenience, because he made up for it miraculously in his last ten minutes.

As the day wore on his state of mind passed from wonder to elation. However, the circumstances of his leaving the Long Dragon were still disagreeable to remember, and this news had reached his colleagues at work, which led to some teasing. It was evident he must be careful how he lifted fragile articles, but in other ways his gift promised more and more as he turned it over in his mind. He intended among other things to increase his personal property by discreet acts of creation. He called into existence a pair of very splendid diamond studs, and hastily annihilated them again as young Mr Gomshott came across to his desk. He was afraid Mr Gomshott might wonder how he had come by them. He saw quite clearly the gift required caution in its use, but so far as he could judge the difficulties to master it would require no more study than riding a bicycle. As he felt he would be unwelcome in the Long Dragon, after dinner he went into the lane beyond the factory to rehearse a few miracles in private.

There was possibly a certain need for originality in his attempts, for, apart from his willpower, Mr Fotheringay was not a very exceptional man. The miracle of Moses' rod came to his mind, but the night was dark and he thought controlling large miraculous snakes might prove difficult. Then he recalled the story of "Tannhduser" that he had read on the back of the theatre programme. That seemed to him attractive and harmless. He stuck his walking stick into the ground by the footpath, and commanded the dry wood to blossom. The air was immediately full of the scent of roses, and by means of a match he saw for himself that this beautiful miracle was indeed accomplished. His satisfaction was ended by advancing footsteps. Afraid of having his powers discovered, he addressed the blossoming stick quickly: "Go back." What he meant was "Change back;" but of course he was confused. The stick went backwards at a considerable velocity, and there came a cry of anger from the approaching person. "Who are you throwing sticks at, you fool?" cried a voice. "That got me on the leg."

"I'm sorry," said Mr Fotheringay, and he realised how problematic giving an explanation would be. He saw Winch, one of the three town policemen, advancing.

"What do you mean by it?" asked the policeman. "Hello! It’s you, is it? The man that broke the lamp at the Long Dragon!"

"I didn't mean anything by it," said Mr Fotheringay. "Nothing at all."

"What did you do it for then?"

"Oh, dear!" said Mr Fotheringay.

"Do you know that stick hurt? What did you do it for, eh?"

For a moment, Mr Fotheringay could not think what he had done it for. His silence seemed to irritate Mr Winch. "You've been assaulting the police, young man, this time. That's what you’ve done."

"Look here, Mr Winch," said Mr Fotheringay, annoyed and confused, "I'm sorry, very. The fact is…"

"Well?"

He could think of no way but the truth. "I was working a miracle." He tried to speak in an offhand way, but try as he would he couldn't.

"Working a…! 'Ere, don't you talk rubbish. Working a miracle, indeed! Miracle! Well, that's very funny! Why, you're the chap that doesn’t believe in miracles. The fact is, this is another of your silly conjuring tricks - that's what this is. Now, I’ll tell you…"

But Mr Fotheringay never heard what Mr Winch was going to tell him. He realised he had given himself away. His irritation moved him to action. He turned on the policeman swiftly and fiercely. "Here," he said, "I've had enough of this, I have! I'll show you a silly conjuring trick, I will! Go to Hades! Go, now!"

He was alone!

Mr Fotheringay performed no more miracles that night, nor did he trouble to see what had become of his flowering stick. He returned to the town, scared and very quiet, and went to his bedroom. "Lord!" he said, "it's a powerful gift—an extremely powerful gift. I didn't really mean that. Not really... I wonder what Hades is like!"

He sat on the bed taking off his boots. Struck by a happy thought he transferred the policeman to San Francisco, and without any more interference with the normal way or things went quietly to bed. In the night, he dreamt of the anger of Winch.

The next day, Mr Fotheringay heard two interesting items of news. Someone had planted a most beautiful climbing rose against the Mr Gomshott's private house in the Lullaborough Road, and the river was to be dragged for Constable Winch.

Mr Fotheringay performed no more miracles that day except certain things for Winch, and the miracle of completing his day's work with punctual perfection in spite of all the worrying thoughts that went through his mind. For the most part he was thinking of Winch.

On Sunday evening, he went to church, and oddly enough, Mr Maydig, who took a certain interest in occult matters, preached about "things that are not lawful." Mr Fotheringay was not a regular churchgoer, but now began to wonder about the subject of miracles. The subject of the sermon threw an entirely new light on these novel gifts, and he suddenly decided to consult Mr Maydig immediately after the service. As soon as this decision was taken, he found himself wondering why he had not done so before.

Mr Maydig, a slim, excitable man with quite remarkably long wrists and neck, was content at a request for a private conversation from a young man who usually cared little for religious matters. After a few necessary delays, Mr Maydig accompanied Mr Fotheringay to the study in his house, which was next to the church, seated him comfortably, and, standing in front of a cheerful fire, requested Mr Fotheringay to state his business.

At first, Mr Fotheringay was a little shy, and found some difficulty in opening the matter. "You will scarcely believe me, Mr Maydig, I am afraid" - and the suchlike. He tried a question at last, and asked Mr Maydig his opinion of miracles.

Mr Maydig was still saying "Well" in an extremely matter-of-fact tone, when Mr Fotheringay interrupted again: "You don't believe, I suppose, that some common sort of person - like myself, for instance - might have some sort of ability inside him that made him able to do things by his will."

"It's possible," said Mr Maydig. "Something of the sort, perhaps, is possible."

"If you would allow me, I think I might show you by a sort of experiment," said Mr Fotheringay. "Now, take that tobacco jar on the table, for instance. What I want to know is whether what I am going to do with it is a miracle or not. Just half a minute, Mr Maydig, please."

He knitted his brows, pointed to the tobacco jar and said: "Be a bowl of violets."

The tobacco jar did as it was ordered.

Mr Maydig jumped violently at the change, and stood looking from the magician to the bowl of flowers. He said nothing. Presently he ventured to lean over the table and smell the violets; they were freshly picked and very fine ones. Then he stared at Mr Fotheringay again.

"How did you do that?!" he asked.

Image from 1936 film The Man who could work Miracles.

Listen to episode 3 of The Man who could work Miracles...