waist, whisked him up into the air, and, pst! before Peter knew what was
happening, they were in hell.
The Devil gave Peter a leather apron and led him into a room where there
were three big cauldrons.
"Now it's your duty," the Devil said, "to keep the fires under these
cauldrons always burning. Keep four logs under the first cauldron, eight
logs under the second, and twelve under the third. Be careful never to
let the fires go out. And another thing, Peter: you're never to peep
inside the cauldrons. If you do I'll drive you away without a cent of
wages. Don't forget!"
So Peter began working for the Devil and the treatment he received was
so much better than that which he had had on earth that, sometimes, it
seemed to him he was in heaven rather than hell. He had plenty of good
food and drink and, as the Devil had promised him, the work was not
heavy.
For companions he had the young apprentice devils, a merry black crew,
who told droll stories and played amusing pranks.
Time passed quickly. Peter was faithful at his work and never once
peeped under the lids of his three cauldrons.
At last he began to grow homesick for the world and one day he asked the
Devil how much longer he had still to serve.
"Tomorrow," the Devil told him, "your seven years are up."
The next day while Peter was piling fresh logs under the cauldrons, the
Devil came to him and said:
"Today, Peter, you are free. You have served me faithfully and well and
I am going to reward you handsomely. Money would be too heavy for you to
carry, so I am going to give you this bag which is a magic bag.
Whenever you open it and say: 'Bag, I need some ducats,' the bag will
always have just as many as you need. Good luck go with you, Peter.
However, I don't believe you'll have a very good time at first for
people will think you're a devil. You know you do look pretty black for
you haven't washed for seven years and you haven't cut your hair or
nails."
"That's true," said Peter. "I just remember I haven't washed ever since
I've been down here. I certainly must take a bath and get my hair cut
and my nails trimmed."
The Devil shook his head.
"No, Peter, one bath won't do it. Water won't wash off the kind of black
you get down here. I know what you must do but I won't tell you just
yet. Go up into the world as you are and, if ever you need me, call me.
If the people up there ask you who you are, tell them you're the Devil's
little brother-in-law. This isn't a joke. It's true as you'll find out
some day."
Peter then took leave of all the little black apprentices and the Devil,
lifting him on his back, whisked him up to earth and set him down in the
forest on exactly the same spot where they had met seven years before.
The Devil disappeared and Peter, stuffing the magic bag in his pocket,
walked to the nearest village.
His appearance created a panic. On sight of him the children ran
screaming home, crying out:
"The Devil! The Devil is coming!"
Mothers and fathers ran out of the houses to see what was the matter but
on sight of Peter they ran in again, barred all the doors and windows,
and making the sign of the cross prayed God Almighty to protect them.
Peter went on to the tavern. The landlord and his wife were standing in
the doorway. As Peter came toward them, they cried out in fright:
"O Lord, forgive us our sins! The Devil is coming!"
They tried to run away but they tripped over each other and fell down,
and before they could scramble to their feet Peter stood before them.
He looked at them for a moment and laughed. Then he went inside the
tavern, sat down, and said:
"Landlord, bring me a drink!"
Quaking with fright the landlord went to the cellar and drew a pitcher
of beer. Then he called the little herd who was working in the stable.
"Yirik," he said to the boy, "take this beer into the house. There's a
man in there waiting for it. He's a little strange looking but you
needn't be afraid. He won't hurt you."
Yirik took the pitcher of beer and started in. He opened the door and
then, as he caught sight of Peter, he dropped the pitcher and fled.
The landlord scolded him angrily.
"What do you mean," he shouted, "not giving the gentleman his beer? And
breaking the pitcher, too! The price of it will be deducted from your
wages! Draw another pitcher of beer and place it at once before the
gentleman."
Yirik feared Peter but he feared the landlord more. He was an orphan,
poor lad, and served the landlord for his keep and three dollars a year.
So with trembling fingers he drew a pitcher of beer and then, breathing
a prayer to his patron saint, he slowly dragged himself into the tavern.
"There, there, boy," Peter called out kindly. "You needn't be afraid.
I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not the Devil. I'm only his little
brother-in-law."
Yirik took heart and placed the beer in front of Peter. Then he stood
still, not daring to raise his eyes.
Peter began asking him about himself, who he was, how he came to be
working for the landlord, and what kind of treatment he was receiving.
Yirik stammered out his story and as he talked he forgot his fear, he
forgot that Peter looked like a devil, and presently he was talking to
him freely as one friend to another.
Peter was touched by the orphan's story and, pulling out his magic money
bag, he filled Yirik's cap with golden ducats. The boy danced about the
room with delight. Then he ran outside and showed the landlord and the
people who had gathered the present which the strange gentleman had made
him.
"And he says he's not the Devil," Yirik reported, "but only his
brother-in-law."
When the landlord heard that Peter really hadn't any horns or a flaming
tongue, he picked up courage and going inside he begged Peter to give
him, too, a few golden ducats. But Peter only laughed at him.
Peter stayed at the tavern overnight. Just as he fell asleep some one
shook his hand and, as he opened his eyes, he saw his old master
standing beside him.
"Quick!" the Devil whispered. "Get up and hurry out to the shed! The
landlord is about to murder the orphan for his money."
Peter jumped out of bed and ran outside to the shed where Yirik slept.
He burst open the door just as the landlord was ready to stab the
sleeping boy with a dagger.
"You sinner!" Peter cried. "I've caught you at last! Off to hell you go
with me this instant to stew forever in boiling oil!"
The landlord fainted with terror. Peter dragged him senseless into the
house. When he came to himself he fell on his knees before Peter and
begged for mercy. He offered Peter everything he possessed if only Peter
would grant him another chance and he solemnly vowed that he would
repent and give up his evil ways.
At last Peter said:
"Very well. I'll give you another chance provided that, from this time
on, you treat Yirik as your son. Be kind to him and send him to school.
The moment you forget your promise and treat him cruelly, I'll come and
carry you off to hell! Remember!"
There was no need to urge the landlord to remember. From that night he
was a changed man. He became honest in all his dealings and he really
did treat Yirik as though he were his own son.
Peter stayed on at the tavern and stories about him and his golden
ducats began to spread through the country-side. The prince of the land
heard of him and sent word that he would like to see him at the castle.
Peter answered the prince's messenger that if the prince wished to see
him he could come to the tavern.
"Who is this prince of yours," Peter asked the landlord, "and why does
he want to see me?"
"He'd probably like to borrow some money from you," the landlord
said. "He's deep in debt for he has two of the wickedest, most
extravagant daughters in the world. They're the children of his
first marriage. They are proud and haughty and they waste the money
of the realm as though it were so much sand. The people are crying
out against them and their wasteful ways but the prince seems unable
to curb them. The prince has a third daughter, the child of his
second wife. Her name is Angelina and she certainly is as good and
beautiful as an angel. We call her the Princess Linka. There isn't a
man in the country that wouldn't go through fire and water for
her--God bless her! As for the other two--may the Devil take them!"
Suddenly remembering himself, the landlord clapped his hand to his mouth
in alarm.
Peter laughed good-humoredly.
"That's all right, landlord. Don't mind me. As I've told you before I'm
not the Devil. I'm only his little brother-in-law."
The landlord shook his head.
"Yes, I know, but I must say it seems much the same to me."
One afternoon the prince came riding down to the tavern and asked for
Peter. He was horrified at first by Peter's appearance, but he treated
him most politely, invited him to the castle, and ended by begging the
loan of a large sum of money.
Peter said to the prince:
"I'll give you as much money as you want provided you let me marry one
of your daughters."
The prince wasn't prepared for this but he needed money so badly that he
said:
"H'm, which one of them?"
"I'm not particular," Peter answered. "Any of them will do."
When he gave the prince some money in advance, the prince agreed and
Peter promised to come to the castle the next day to meet his bride to
be.
The prince when he got home told his daughters that he had seen Peter.
They questioned him about Peter's appearance and asked him what sort of
a looking person this brother-in-law of the Devil was.
"He isn't so very ugly," the prince said, "really he isn't. If he washed
his face and trimmed his hair and nails he'd be fairly good-looking. In
fact I rather like him."
He then talked to them very seriously about the state of the treasury
and he told them that unless he could raise a large sum of money shortly
there was danger of an uprising among the people.
"If you, my daughters, wish to see the peace of the country preserved,
if you want to make me happy in my old age, one of you will have to
marry this young man, for I see no other way to raise the money."
At this the two older princesses tossed their heads scornfully and
laughed loud and long.
"You may rest assured, dear father, that neither of us will marry such a
creature! We are the daughters of a prince and won't marry beneath us,
no, not even to save the country from ruin!"
"Then I don't know what I'll do," the prince said.
"Father," whispered Linka, the youngest. Her voice quavered and her face
turned pale. "Father, if your happiness and the peace of the country
depend on this marriage, I will sacrifice myself, God help me!"
"My child! My dear child!" the prince cried, taking Linka in his arms
and kissing her tenderly.
The two elder sisters jeered and ha-ha-ed.
"Little sister-in-law of the Devil!" they said mockingly. "Now if you
were to marry Prince Lucifer himself that would be something, for at
least you would be a princess! But only to be his sister-in-law--ha!
ha!--what does that amount to?"
And they laughed with amusement and made nasty evil jokes until poor
little Linka had to put her hands to her ears not to hear them.
The next day Peter came to the castle. The older sisters when they saw
how black he was were glad enough they had refused to marry him. As for
Linka, the moment she looked at him she fainted dead away.
When she revived the prince led her over to Peter and gave Peter her
hand. She was trembling violently and her hand was cold as marble.
"Don't be afraid, little princess," Peter whispered to her gently. "I
know how awful I look. But perhaps I won't always be so ugly. I promise
you, if you marry me, I shall always love you dearly."
Linka was greatly comforted by the sound of his pleasant voice, but each
time she looked at him she was terrified anew.
Peter saw this and made his visit short. He handed out to the prince as
much money as he needed and then, after agreeing to return in eight days
for the wedding, he hurried off.
He went to the place where he had met the Devil the first time and
called him by name with all his might.
The Devil instantly appeared.
"What do you want, little brother-in-law?"
"I want to look like myself again," Peter said. "What good will it do me
to marry a sweet little princess and then have the poor girl faint away
every time she looks at me!"
"Very well, brother-in-law. If that is how you feel about it, come along
with me and I'll soon make you into a handsome young man."
Peter leaped on the Devil's back and off they flew over mountains and
forests and distant countries.
They alighted in a deep forest beside a bubbling spring.
"Now, little brother-in-law," the Devil said, "wash in this water and
see how handsome you'll soon be."
Peter threw off his clothes and jumped into the water and when he came
out his skin was as beautiful and fresh as a girl's. He looked at his
own reflection in the spring and it made him so happy that he said to
the Devil:
"Brother-in-law, I'm more grateful to you for this than for all the
money you've given me. Now my dear Linka will love me!"
He put his arms about the Devil's neck and off they flew once again.
This time they went to a big city where Peter bought beautiful clothes
and jewels and coaches and horses. He engaged servants in fine livery
and, when he was ready to go to his bride, he had a following that was
worthy of any prince.
At the castle the Princess Linka paced her chamber pale and trembling.
The two older sisters were with her, laughing heartlessly and making
evil jokes, and running every moment to the window to see if the groom
were coming.
At last they saw in the distance a long line of shining coaches with
outriders in rich livery. The coaches drew up at the castle gate and
from the first one a handsome youth, arrayed like a prince, alighted. He
hurried into the castle and ran straight upstairs to Linka's chamber.
At first Linka was afraid to look at him for she supposed he was still
black. But when he took her hand and whispered: "Dear Linka, look at me
now and you won't be frightened," she looked and it seemed to her that
Peter was the very handsomest young man in all the world. She fell in
love with him on sight and I might as well tell you she's been in love
with him ever since.
The two older sisters stood at the window frozen stiff with envy and
surprise. Suddenly they felt some one clutch them from behind. They
turned in fright and who did they see standing there but the Devil
himself!
"Don't be afraid, my dear brides," he said. "I'm not a common fellow.
I'm Prince Lucifer himself. So, in becoming my brides you are not losing
rank!"
Then he turned to Peter and chuckled.
"You see now, Peter, why you are my brother-in-law. You're marrying one
sister and I'm taking the other two!"
With that he picked up the two wicked sisters under his arm and _puff!_
with a whiff of sulphur they all three disappeared through the ceiling.
The Princess Linka as she clung to her young husband asked a little
fearfully:
"Peter, do you suppose we'll have to see our brother-in-law often?"
"Not if you make me a good wife," Peter said.
And you can understand what a good wife Linka became when I tell you
that never again all her life long did she see the Devil.
THE SHOEMAKER'S APRON
THE STORY OF THE MAN WHO SITS NEAR THE GOLDEN GATE
[Illustration]
THE SHOEMAKER'S APRON
There was once a shoemaker who made so little at his trade that his wife
suffered and his children went hungry. In desperation he offered to sell
his soul to a devil.
"How much do you want for your soul?" the devil asked him.
"I want work enough to give me a good livelihood," the shoemaker said,
"so that my wife won't suffer nor my children starve."
The devil agreed to this and the shoemaker put his mark on the contract.
After that trade improved and soon the little shoemaker was happy and
prosperous.
Now one night it happened that Christ and the blessed St. Peter, who
were walking about on earth, stopped at the little shoemaker's cottage
and asked for a night's lodging. The shoemaker received them most
hospitably. He had his wife cook them a fine supper and after supper he
gave them his own bed to sleep on while he and his wife went to the
garret and slept on straw.
In the morning he had his wife prepare them a good breakfast and after
breakfast he took them on their way for a mile or two.
As he was leaving them, St. Peter whispered to Christ:
"Master, this poor man has given us of his best. Don't you think you
ought to reward him?"
Christ nodded and, turning to the little shoemaker, he said:
"For your kindness to us this day I will reward you. Make three wishes
and they will be granted."
The shoemaker thanked Christ and said:
"Well then, these are my wishes: first, may whoever sits down on my
cobbler's stool be unable to get up until I permit him; second, may
whoever looks into the window of my cottage have to stand there until I
let him go; and third, may whoever shakes the pear-tree in my garden
stick to the tree until I set him free."
"Your wishes will be granted," Christ promised. Then he and St. Peter
went on their way and the shoemaker returned to his cottage.
The years went by and at last one afternoon the devil stood before the
shoemaker and said:
"Ho, shoemaker, your time has come! Are you ready?"
"Just let me have a bite of supper first," the shoemaker said. "In the
meantime you sit down here on my stool and rest yourself."
The devil who had been walking up and down the earth since sunrise was
tired and so was glad enough to sit down.
After supper the little shoemaker said:
"Now then, I'm ready. Come on."
The devil tried to stand up but of course he couldn't. He pulled this
way and that. He stretched, he rolled from side to side until his bones
ached, but all to no avail. He could not get up from the stool.
"Brother!" he cried in terror, "help me off this cursed stool and I'll
give you seven more years--I swear I will!"
At that promise the shoemaker allowed the devil to stand up, and the
devil scurried off as fast as he could.
He was true to his word. He didn't come back for seven years. When he
did come he was too clever to risk sitting down again on the cobbler's
stool. He didn't even venture inside the cottage door. Instead, he stood
at the window and called out:
"Ho, shoemaker, here I am again! Your time has come! Are you ready?"
"I'll be ready in a moment," the shoemaker said, "Just let me put a last
stitch in these shoes."
When the shoemaker had finished sewing the shoes, he put aside his work,
bade his wife good-bye, and said to the devil:
"Now then, I'm ready. Let us go."
But the devil when he tried to move away from the window found that he
was held fast. It was as if his feet had been soldered to the earth. In
great fright he cried out:
"Oh, my dear little shoemaker, help me! I can't move!"
"What's this trick you're playing on me?" the shoemaker said. "Now I'm
ready to go and you aren't! What do you mean by making a fool of me this
way?"
"Just help me to get free," the devil cried, "and I'll do anything in
the world for you! I'll give you seven more years! I swear I will!"
"Very well," the shoemaker said, "then I'll help you this time. But
never again! Now remember: I won't let you make a fool of me a third
time!"
So the shoemaker freed the devil from the window and the devil without
another word scurried off.
At the end of another seven years he appeared again. But this time he
was too clever to look in the window. He didn't even come near the
cottage. Instead he stood off in the garden under the pear-tree and
called out:
"Ho, there, shoemaker! Your time has come and I am here to get you! Are
you ready?"
"I'll be ready in a moment," the shoemaker said. "Just wait until I put
away my tools. If you feel like it, shake yourself down a nice ripe
pear."
The devil shook the pear-tree and of course when he tried to stop he
couldn't. He shook until all the pears had fallen. He kept on and
presently he had shaken off all the leaves.
When the shoemaker came out and saw the tree stripped and bare and the
devil still shaking it, he pretended to fall into a fearful rage.
"Hi, there, you! What do you mean shaking down all my pears! Stop it! Do
you hear me? Stop it!"
"But I can't stop it!" the poor devil cried.
"We'll see about that!" the shoemaker said.
He ran back into the cottage and got a long leather strap. Then he began
beating the devil unmercifully over his head and shoulders.
The devil made such an outcry that all the village heard him and came
running to see what was the matter.
"Help! Help!" the devil cried. "Make the shoemaker stop beating me!"
But all the people thought the shoemaker was doing just right to punish
the black fellow for shaking down all his pears and they urged the
shoemaker to beat him harder.
"My poor head! My poor shoulders!" the devil moaned. "If ever I get
loose from this cursed pear-tree I'll never come back here! I swear I
won't!"
The shoemaker, when he heard this, laughed in his sleeve and let the
devil go.
The devil was true to his word. He never again returned. So the
shoemaker lived, untroubled, to a ripe old age.
Just before he died he asked that his cobbler's apron be buried with him
and his sons carried out his wish.
As soon as he died the little shoemaker trudged up to heaven and knocked
timidly at the golden gate. St. Peter opened the gate a little crack and
peeped out. When he saw the shoemaker he shook his head and said:
"Little shoemaker, heaven is no place for you. While you were alive you
sold your soul to the ruler of the other place and now you must go
there."
With that St. Peter shut the golden gate and locked it.
The little shoemaker sighed and said to himself:
"Well, I suppose I must go where St. Peter says."
So he put on a bold front and tramped down to hell. When the devil who
knew him saw him coming, he shouted out to his fellow devils:
"Brothers, on guard! Here comes that terrible little shoemaker! Lock
every gate! Don't let him in or he'll drive us all out of hell!"
The devils in great fright scurried about and locked and barred all the
gates, and the little shoemaker when he arrived could not get in.
He knocked and knocked but no one would answer.
"They don't seem to want me here," he said to himself. "I suppose I'll
have to try heaven again."
So he trudged back to St. Peter and explained to him that hell was
locked up tight.
"No matter," St. Peter said. "As I told you before heaven is no place
for you."
The little shoemaker, tired and dejected, went back to hell but again
the devils, when they saw him coming, locked every gate and kept him
out.
In desperation the little shoemaker returned to heaven and pounded
loudly on the golden gate. Thinking from the noise that some very
important saint had arrived, St. Peter flung open the gate. Quick as a
flash the little shoemaker threw his leather apron inside, then hopped
in himself under St. Peter's elbow and squatted down on the apron.
In great excitement St. Peter tried to turn him out of heaven, but the
little shoemaker shouted:
"You can't touch me! You can't touch me! I'm sitting on my own property!
Let me alone!"
He raised such a hubbub that all the angels and the blessed saints came
running to see what was happening. Presently Lord Jesus himself came and
the little shoemaker explained to him how he just had to stay in heaven
as the devils wouldn't let him into hell.
"Now, Master," St. Peter said, "what am I to do? You know yourself we
can't keep this fellow in heaven."
But Lord Jesus, looking with pity on the poor little shoemaker, said to
St. Peter:
"Just let him stay where he is. He won't bother any one sitting here
near the gate."
STORIES TO TELL
IT'S PERFECTLY TRUE AND OTHER STORIES. By HANS CHRISTIAN
ANDERSEN. A new translation made from the Danish by Paul
Leyssac.
THE TREASURE OF LI-PO. By ALICE RITCHIE. Six original fairy
tales of old China told with quiet beauty and real distinction.
A BAKER'S DOZEN. Selected by MARY GOULD DAVIS. Thirteen stories
which are especially successful in story-telling.
13 DANISH TALES. By MARY C. HATCH. Robust, humorous folk tales
retold from J. C. Bay's famous translation.
MORE DANISH TALES. By MARY C. HATCH. Fifteen lively and amusing
traditional stories.
CZECHOSLOVAK FAIRY TALES. By PARKER FILLMORE.
THE WHITE RING. By ENYS TREGARTHEN. Edited by Elizabeth Yates.
"This fairy tale from Cornwall may well turn out to be a classic
... enhanced by enchanting illustrations."--_New York Times._
THE LAUGHING PRINCE. By PARKER FILLMORE. Jugoslav stories.
THE DANCING KETTLE, AND OTHER JAPANESE FOLK TALES. By YOSHIKO
UCHIDA. A delightful collection of Japanese folk tales.
TWENTY-FOUR UNUSUAL STORIES. By ANNA COGSWELL TYLER. Mystery
tales, legends, and folklore.