Jack and the Devil's Purse

by Duncan Williamson

  ‘And what’s your condition?’ says Jack.

  He said, ‘You said you would give me your soul!’

  Jack said, ‘If you’re the Devil you can have my soul – it’s no good to me. A drink I need!’

  ‘Take my purse,’ said the Devil, ‘and spend to your heart’s content, and I’ll come for you in a year and a day.’

  ‘Done,’ says Jack, ‘show me your purse!’

  The Devil gave Jack the little purse. And he opened it up. A silver shilling lay in the purse.

  ‘Right,’ says Jack, ‘it’s a deal!’

  The Devil was gone, he vanished.

  Jack walked to the village, spent his mother’s two-three shillings to buy the things his mother needed. And he said: ‘I’ve got a shilling in my purse.’

  He walked across to the local inn. Took the shilling out, put it on the bar and called for a glass of whisky. Got his glass of whisky, drank it up. Called for another one and drank it up. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘Devil, if you’re telling the truth . . .’ And he opened the purse. Lo and behold, there was another shilling! He spent another one and another one took its place. Jack got really drunk. He walked home to his mother, purse in his hip pocket.

  ‘Now at last,’ he said, ‘I can drink to my heart’s content.’ He gave his mother her messages.

  ‘Where did you get the money to drink, Jack?’ she says. ‘You’ve been drinkin.’

  ‘Och, I met a couple o’ friends, Mother.’ (He never told her.)

  But anyhow, Jack made every excuse he could get to go to the village. And every time he went he got drunk, as usual. Day out and day in. Oh, he bought things for his mother forbyes.

  But one night after three months had passed she said, ‘Jack, you’ve been drinkin a terrible lot. Where are you gettin all this money?’

  ‘Ach, Mother, it’s only friends I meet.’ But she was pleased with that.

  But after six months, after Jack had been drinking for another three months, she said, ‘Jack, look, you’ll have to tell me the truth: where is this money coming from? You’ve been drunk now for weeks on end. Not that I’m complainin . . . drink killed your father. It’ll prob’ly kill you too. You’re a young man and it’s none o’ my business.’

  ‘Ach, Mother, it’s only money I’ve been gettin from my friends. They owed it to me.’

  Another three months passed and nine months had passed. Jack was still drinking to his heart’s content. One night he came home very drunk.

  She says, ‘Jack, do you know what you’re doin? That’s nine month you’ve been drinkin every week. Laddie, ye ken you’re workin with the Devil!’

  He says, ‘What, Mother?’

  ‘Laddie, you’re workin with the Devil. Drink is Devil’s work. It killed yer father and it’ll kill you.’

  ‘But, Mother, what do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I’m telling you, laddie, it’s Devil’s work! Laddie, where are ye gettin the money?’

  ‘Well, Mother, to tell ye the truth, I really met the Devil.’

  ‘Ye met the Devil?’ says his mother.

  ‘Aye, Mother, I met the Devil. And he’s comin for me – in a year’s time.’

  ‘But,’ she said, ‘what do ye mean?’

  ‘Well, to tell you the truth: I coaxed you for a shilling and I begged you for money. I was cursin and swearin at the crossroads and there I met a man. And he gave me a purse wi a shilling in it. And I sold my soul to him. He tellt me he’s comin for me in a year and a day.’

  She said, ‘Laddie, where is the purse?’

  Jack took the purse from his pocket and the old woman looked. It was a queer looking purse. She had never seen nothing like this before.

  He said, ‘Look in it, Mother, see what’s in it.’

  And the mother looked in. There was a single shilling in it, a silver shilling.

  He said, ‘Mother, tak it out.’

  And the old mother took it out. She held it in her hand.

  ‘Now,’ he said, ‘look in there, Mother!’

  And she looked again: there was another one. She took another, and another one took its place. Oh, she catcht it and clashed it to the floor.

  She says, ‘Laddie, that’s the Devil’s purse you’ve got!’

  ‘But,’ he says, ‘Mother, what can I do with it?’

  She says, ‘Laddie, get rid of it. Ye ken the Devil’s got ye!’

  ‘But,’ he says, ‘Mother, I’ve tried. I’m beginning to understand now that your words are true. I threw it in the fire when you werena lookin, but it jumped back out again. I throw it away, it comes back in my pocket again. Mother, what am I goin to do? I dinna want to go wi’ the Devil!’

  Now Jack began to get to his senses. He stopped drinking for a week, never had a drink. One shilling lay in the purse.

  He said, ‘Mother, what can I do? He’s comin for me!’

  ‘Oh I ken, laddie, he’s comin for ye. We ken that. You shouldna hae took it from him in the first place.’

  ‘Mother,’ he says, ‘help me, please! I dinna want to go wi the Devil!’

  ‘Well,’ she says, ‘look, Jack, there’s only one thing I can tell ye: I have an old sister you’ve never met, your auntie, and she lives a long way from here, Jack. I was always askin ye to go and see her for a visit. She’s an old henwife and people thinks that she’s a bit of a witch, and if onybody can help you, she’s the only one that can. Would you tak my word, Jack, forget about the purse! Tak it wi ye, show it to her and explain yer case to her.’

  ‘But where does she bide, Mother? Ye never tellt me this afore.’

  ‘Oh, laddie,’ she said, ‘it’s a long way fae here.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘Mother, if she can help me I’m goin to see her!’

  So the old woman told Jack where her old sister stayed. And the next morning Jack went on his way to find his old auntie. He travelled on for days and days and he finally came to his old auntie’s little cottage. She had a cottage on the beach by the shoreside and she kept hens and ducks. He walked up and knocked at the door.

  And a very old bended woman came out and said: ‘Hello, young man! What do you want here?’

  He said, ‘Auntie, do ye no ken who I am?’

  She says, ‘What do ye mean? I’m no auntie of yours!’

  He says, ‘I’m Jack, I’m your sister’s on.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘my sister’s son from the farthest point of Ireland! I never, never thought you would ever come and see me. Come in, laddie, come in! I’m pleased to see ye. And how’s my old sister?’

  ‘Yer old sister’s fine,’ he said. ‘But it’s me I’m worried about.’

  ‘And what’s wrong wi you, laddie?’ she said, after he’d had a wee bite to eat.

  ‘Well look, Auntie, to tell ye the God’s truth: I’m tooken over wi the Devil.’

  ‘Oh dear me, laddie,’ she says, ‘sit down and tell me about it.’

  So Jack told her the story I’m telling you.

  She says, ‘Laddie, show me the purse!’

  And she took the purse, she opened it. There was one single shilling in it. She took the shilling out and she looked again – another one took its place. She took the first shilling, put it back in and the other one vanished.

  She said, ‘Laddie, you’re really tooken over wi the Devil; that’s the God’s truth!’ So she took the purse and she put it on the little table. She said, ‘Jack, there’s only one thing ye can do. But wait a minute . . . ye can stay here the night with me. But tomorrow morning you want to go up to the village and see the local blacksmith. Tell him to put the purse on the anvil in the smiddie and to heat a horseshoe in the fire and beat that purse like he’s never beat anything before in his life! But I have a wee present for ye and I’ll gie it to you in the mornin.’

  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!