Jack and the Devil's Purse (14 page)

So Jack spent a restless night with his old auntie. But next morning after breakfast she came out. She had a wee small Bible that you could barely see, the smallest Bible you could ever see!

She said, ‘Jack, put
that
in your pocket and don’t part wi it for nobody under the sun!’

So Jack took the wee Bible and he put it in his pocket. He thanked his old auntie very much and told her he would go to the blacksmith and see him.

‘Tell him I sent ye! Tell him old Isa sent ye up!’

So Jack bade farewell to his auntie, walked up to the little village and came to the blacksmith’s shop. The old blacksmith was busy over the fire with a bit leather apron round his waist. There wasn’t a horse in the smiddie or nothing. And Jack walked in. The old blacksmith was blowin up the fire.

He turned round, said, ‘Hello, young man! What can I do for ye? Ye got a horse with ye?’

‘No,’ Jack said, ‘I’ve no horse, sir. I’ve no horse. I was down talking to my auntie, old Isa.’

‘Oh, old Isa!’ said the blacksmith, ‘oh, the old friend o’ mine. Aye, what can I do for ye?’

‘Well,’ he says, ‘I’m her nephew. And I want you to help me.’

‘Oh,’ he says, ‘any friend of old Isa’s is a friend o’ mine. What can I do for ye?’

‘Well,’ he says, ‘sir, look, it’s this purse. It belongs to the Devil!’

‘Oh, belongs to the Devil,’ said the blacksmith, ‘I see. And what am I supposed to do with it? Throw it in the fire?’

‘Oh no,’ Jack said, ‘you’ll no throw it in the fire; I want ye to put it on the anvil and beat it! My auntie says to beat it with a horseshoe.’

‘Well, your auntie cured me many times when I was sick. And what
she
says is bound to be true.’

So the old blacksmith took the purse and he put it on the anvil. And he went in, got a big horseshoe; he put it on a pair o’ clippers and held it in the fire. And he held it till the shoe was red-hot. He took and he beat the purse. And every time he beat the purse a little imp jumped out! It stood on the floor, ugly little creature with its long nails and ugly-looking face. And the blacksmith beat the purse . . . another one and another one and another one came out. Till there were about
fifteen or sixteen imps – all standing there looking up with their curled nails and their ugly little faces, eyes upside-down and ears twisted. They were the ugliest looking things you ever saw! The blacksmith and Jack paid no attention to them. And then the last beat – out jumped Himself, the Devil! And within minutes he was tall and dark.

He turns round to the blacksmith and to Jack: ‘Aye, Jack,’ he says, ‘heh-h, laddie, ye thought you could beat me, didn’t ye? You thought you could beat me by beatin this purse! But laddie, that maks nae difference, you only beat the imps out, and they’re mine. And
you’re
still belongin to me!’

The old blacksmith stood in a shake. He was terrified. He said, ‘I–I had nothing to do with it.’

Devil said, ‘Look, nothing to do with you, old man, nothing to do with you. Tend to your fire. This young man is my problem.’ He said, ‘Jack, you thought you could beat me, didn’t ye? I’ve come for you, Jack, you’ve got to come wi me!’ And all the little imps are gathered round in a knot together and they are standing there, they’re watching and they’re hanging on to the Devil’s legs. He says, ‘Jack, you’ve got to come with me!’

But Jack says, ‘I’m no dead yet.’

He says, ‘That was no bargain – I never mentioned you being dead. You told me you’d sell me your soul, so you must come with me!’

‘Well,’ Jack says, ‘if that’s it, that’s it!’

So the Devil walked out from the blacksmith’s shop with the imps all behind him. And he and Jack went on their way. They travelled for days and weeks through thorns and brambles and forests and places, caverns and valleys, till at last they came into Hell. And there in Hell was a great cavern with a great roaring fire, and all these little cages full of imps. The Devil opened an empty one and he put all the little ones in, hushed them in and he closed the door.

They stood with their nails against the cages, their ugly faces – some with faces of old women, some with faces of old men, ears upside-down – the most ugly-looking creatures you ever saw in your lifetime.

‘Now,’ says the Devil, ‘I’ve got you!’

‘Well,’ Jack says, ‘what are you goin to do with me?’

‘Well, Jack,’ he said, ‘to tell ye the truth, I don’t know what I’m goin to do with you. You spent my money, ye know, and you enjoyed yourself.’

‘That’s true,’ said Jack, ‘I enjoyed myself.’

‘And you tried to deceive me.’

‘That’s right,’ said Jack, ‘I did try.’

‘But,’ he says, ‘I finally got ye. But I’ll be lenient with you, Jack, if you’ll do something for me!’

Jack said, ‘Well?’

He said, ‘I’m goin away for a long time, Jack. I must go on a journey. I have some people to see in a faraway country who are due a visit from me, the Devil! And all I want you to do is to sit here by the fire and take care of the imps while I’m gone.’

‘Oh,’ Jack said, ‘that’s no problem, no problem at all.’

So then there was a flash of light and the Devil was gone. Jack was left all alone in Hell. Cages and cages all around him, a burning fire . . . all by himself.

So he sat for many hours wearied and wondering, how in the world was he going to get away back from Hell? Thinking about himself, thinking about everything else and then lo and behold! He put his hand in his pocket and he felt the little Bible that his auntie had given him. He brought it forward. He looked at it and he opened the first page. And because he had nobody to talk to and the light was so bright by the fireside, and he was wearied, he thought to himself he would read – though he’d never read the Bible before in his life.

He turned the pages and he got kind of interested. And he sat there reading and reading and reading . . . quiet and still it was in Hell. He looked all around. All the little imps were up with their nails against the cages, and they were peaceful and quiet. They were not doing anything. Jack was reading away to himself.

And then he said to them, ‘Would ye like a story?’

They did not say a word.

So Jack started and he read aloud from the Bible. All the imps gathered round their cages with their hands round the steel bars, and they were sitting listening, so intent. Jack read page after page from the Bible and they were so interested. Then Jack stopped.

And the moment he stopped they started the wildest carry-on! They were screaming, they were fighting and arguing with each other and biting each other, aargh! Jack opened the Bible again and then the screaming stopped.

‘Aha,’ said Jack, ‘it’s stories ye like, isn’t it?’

He went round every cage in Hell and opened them all. He let them all out. They gathered round him by the fireside. They sat on his legs, they climbed on his knees. They keeked into his ears, they sat on his head, they pulled on his ears and pulled his hair. And then Jack started reading aloud from the Bible. They sat quietly listening. And he read the Bible through and through and through for many, many times. He must have read the Bible through a dozen times, and they enjoyed it. But the moment he stopped, they started arguing again and fighting! So to keep them quiet Jack kept reading the Bible. And the more he read the quieter they were.

‘So,’ Jack said, ‘the only way that I’m going to get peace is to read the Bible to you!’ So he read the Bible through a hundred times.

And then there was a flash of light! There stood the Devil with an old man on his back. He came up and threw the old man in the fire.

‘Right, imps,’ he said, ‘come on and get your spears, get this old man tortured!’

But they all ran behind Jack. They curled behind his legs, they climbed behind his back. And they wouldn’t look at the Devil.

‘Come on, imps,’ said the Devil, ‘there’s work to be done!’

But the imps wouldn’t look at the Devil in any way, they paid him no attention.

The Devil said, ‘Jack, what have you done to my imps?’

Jack said, ‘I’ve done nothing to them. I read them a story.’

‘A story!’ says the Devil. ‘Where did you read them a story?’

‘From the Bible.’

‘Take
that
from me,’ said the Devil, ‘take
that
from me, put
that
away from me!’ He says, ‘Jack, you’re no good to me. No good to me, I’m sorry I ever even thought about you in the first place. Jack, you’re too bad for Heaven and you’re too good for Hell. Look, I’m goin to give you a chance. You take all these imps and go and start a place for yourself! I’ll set you free. Now be on your way! And
that
’s the road to take—’ there was a space o’ light.

And Jack walked on. ‘Goodbye, Devil,’ he said, and he walked on through the space o’ light and travelled on.

Lo and behold all the little imps, one after the other, followed him in a single file till he disappeared from the cavern o’ Hell. When the beautiful sun was shining he landed in a beautiful forest. And he sat down there. He wondered: ‘Am I really free from Hell?’ he said. ‘Will the Devil ever bother me anymore?’

And all the little imps gathered round him. They sat on his knees, they sat beside him.

And Jack said, ‘Well little fellas, we have a problem. You know I’ve led you from Hell. Now I canna take you back to my mother in any way. But look, this is a nice place for you to live. Go out in the forest and be good and kind and create in your own likeness, and enjoy yourselves. Make a home for yourselves here. You’ll never need to go back to Hell again!’

And then the little fellas vanished in the forest.

Jack walked on to his mother’s. And his mother was pleased to see him.

‘Did ye do what I told you, Jack?’ she said.

‘Aye, Mother, I did what you tellt me, and have I got a story to tell you!’

So the little imps lived in the forest and they spread out. They created in their likeness. And therefore began the legend of all the goblins and elves and gnomes in the land. And Jack lived happy with his mother. But he never took another drink.

And that is the end of my story!

Jack stayed with his mother in this little cottage many, many years ago, long before your day and mine. And all they had was a vegetable patch. Jack used to grow vegetables of all description. He was a good gardener, and he had a few hens. He and his mother managed to survive by selling a few eggs and vegetables in the village. Whatever Jack sold the vegetables for he would always use to bring back some messages. And he always managed to bring his mother back a shilling or two, which she promised she would save for Jack for when she was gone. Maybe it was only a shilling, maybe two, but he always gave her the change that was left. Jack was not a drinker, no way. But he had one vice – every spare moment he had he spent it . . . fishing.

Now, past Jack’s place where he stayed ran a large river, and it travelled into the hills for hundreds of miles. One morning he packed his basket with the vegetables, went into the market and sold them. He hurried the best he could because he wanted to fish. He got some things for his mother, hurried back and swallowed a quick meal.

She says, ‘Jack, you’re in an awful hurry.’

‘Well, Mother, you know,’ he said, ‘there was rain last night and the burn’s big.’

‘I trust between you and the burn, laddie,’ she said, ‘something bad’s going to happen to you, with all this carry-on
fishing! You never, never give a thought to anything else as long as you can get out there with that rod and sit fishing!’

He says, ‘Mother, don’t I bring you back some good fish sometimes?’

She says, ‘Sometimes you do well, Jack. But do you give a thought to me – I might want you to sit and talk to me – and do you give a thought to other things to do past your own sport?’

He says, ‘Mother, look, you know where I am when I’m going fishing!’

But she says, ‘Jack, I know you go fishing, but you’re away for so long; you spend hours at a time and that burn goes for miles. You could fall into the burn, get drowned or something, I would never ken.’

‘Mother, you reared me up, now I’m eighteen years of age,’ he says. ‘Have I ever in the world ever gien ye any worry or grievances over me?’

She said, ‘You give me plenty worry when you go fishing, Jack!’

‘Well,’ he says, ‘I’m going fishing today. And I’m thinking to travel a wee bit further up the burn. That burn goes for hundreds of miles and I’ve never been up very far. I’m going to walk a long way till I get to the place I’ve never fished before, and fish it!’

She says, ‘Jack, you’re going to the Land of the Ravens!’

‘Tsst, Ravens, Mother!’ he said, ‘you and your fairy tales.’

‘If you go too far up the burn you’ll go to the Land of the Ravens,’ she said, ‘and you ken what’ll happen to you if
they
come across you!’

‘Mother, I’m no worried about Ravens,’ he said, ‘that’s only fairy stories, folklore. There nae such thing as Ravens!’

She said, ‘If the Ravens get you fishing in their land, Jack, I’m telling you, you’ll never get back!’

‘Anyway, we’re no going to argue about it,’ Jack says.

He went into the garden, got a spade and dug a large tin of worms, packed his bag, got his fishing rod, collected all his hooks and bits of line – all that he could in case he would lose them in the burn – put them in his bag and flung it on his back, bade goodbye to his mother. And away he goes.

He walked and he walked up the burn past the places he used to fish fill he came to a part where he’d never fished. And he started, put the worms on his hook and fished. Oh, and he was getting good trout, you know, putting them in his bag. The wee ones he was flinging back. And he walked on and on till he came to a cliff face. The burn was dropping into a large waterfall.

‘Now,’ Jack said, ‘the burn will be a large pool down there beside that waterfall. If I could make my way to it I bet ye I could sit there all day and get plenty! In that big pool there’s bound to be plenty fish. I’ve never been here before.’ So he stepped through the wood, said, ‘If I can go round about it and go down through the trees I might find a pathway to the foot of the falls.’