The Mysterious Soup

A man whose wife had died was very depressed. On the date of their anniversary, he had a strange yearning to go back to the inn where they had spent their honeymoon. He longed for another bowl of the delicious she-crab soup they had both enjoyed there.

He drove the distance to the inn - some hours away - with a lighter heart than he's had in quite some time. When he arrived at the inn's quaint little restaurant, he explained to the owner why he had come.

A look of pain came over the owner's face. "I'm terribly sorry," he said, "but the cook who made that soup has since died. It was her secret recipe, and we dare not try to imitate it for fear of losing our reputation for service. A look of pain came over the owner's face. "I'm terribly sorry," he said, "but the cook who made that soup has since died. It was her secret recipe, and we dare not try to imitate it for fear of losing our reputation for service.

After sitting for much longer than he intended, he still had not received a check for his meal. He summoned the owner and requested a bill.

"There is no charge for your coffee, sir," he said in a sympathetic voice. "We are sorry we could not serve you the soup you remembered so favorably."

The widower started to explain that he had indeed been served the she-crab soup when he saw the owner's face pale before he repeated, "Please, sir. There is no charge."

Baffled, the widower reached for his bowl as proof he had been served the soup. It had disappeared.

The owner of the restaurant leaned over and lowered his voice so no one else in the room could hear, "Sometimes, sir, the cook does return to offer the soup to very special customers."