Jack and the Devil, prt. 2
And here's the last half:
“Will it be a long trip?” Jack asked. “I‘m asking as I feel hungry, and might want a bite to eat on the way.”
“We won’t be driving on Route 66,” Old Nick snapped back. “It will be a ways, though, and no restaurants on the way.”
“Ah then!” Jack said, “Let’s take some apples for the road, then, shall we? I’ll be climbing up to throw some down to you. You wait here.” And with that Jack made quickly as though to climb the tree.
“No more tricks!” The Devil snarled back. “If you go up in that tree you’ll throw an apple at my head. You stay here and I’ll get the apples!” And with that Old Nick went past Jack and clambered up the tree. And then: “Ouch! Help, Jack, help! Ouch! Ow! This tree is full of hornets! And I’m stuck!”
“Are you sure?” Jack called back. “Maybe you’d better check again. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how you’re doing.” And with that Jack plucked a pair of apples and strolled off whistling.
The next day he came back. The tree was still there and so was the Devil and so were the hornets.
“Say, neighbor, how’s it going?” Jack yelled up.
“Ouch! How do you think it’s - ouch! -- going?” Old Nick called back down. “You cursed -- ouch! These verdammt hornets are eating me alive!”
“Really? That’s a pity,” Jack said. “If only you could get out of that tree. What’s it worth to you?”
Of course you probably know what Jack asked for -- seven years of freedom and even more wealth than the last time. Old Nick cursed and threatened and pleaded and finally gave in. Jack said the word, the Devil dropped down, said, “Here!” and gave him a pair of winning lottery tickets, and vanished.
This time, Jack told himself he ought to try and live a little more carefully and maybe give something to the poor. And he did, too, for about a month. Then he decided that he’d been good for long enough and whooped it up twice as loud as before. His old friends returned to him, pleading forgiveness for not having returned his calls. Jack forgave everyone and spent money freely on good times for all around, on horses and women and dice. And in about three years he was broke again, and once again found himself back in the smithy without any friends. Jack bewailed his unhappy fate and made sure to keep an eye on the calendar.
And when the seven years were up, who should Jack find in his smithy but Old Nick again, this time dressed as an undertaker.
“Good morning, Nick!” Jack called out cheerfully from where he stood beside his chair.
“A very good morning indeed,” Nick balefully responded, his eyes flashing fire, “now that I have you in my clutches. Now come along, and no apples and no forge hammers either!”
“Well, if I must, then I must,” Jack responded. “But may I have a horseshoe along for luck? You pick one and I’ll wait in this chair.” And he made to sit down.
“Nothing of the sort!! Old Nick yelled. He walked over to the chair and sat in it, saying, “You get the horseshoe, and I’ll sit down! You can‘t make a fool of me three times!” And so the Devil sat in the chair. And after Jack picked up not a horseshoe, but ice tongs, Old Nick tried to get up, and… “You cheating Dutchman! You fraud! You louse!”
“Why, Nick, what’s the matter? You act like you were stuck.”
“I AM stuck, as well you know! And the seat of this chair is full of horseshoe nails!”
“Well, then, in that case,” Jack said, approaching the chair as he raised the tongs, “I suppose I’ll have to yank you free!” And with that Nick seized the Devil by the ears and begin to yank and pull. Old Nick howled and roared, but he stayed where he was, and the chair didn’t move an inch. It didn’t take long at all for him to yell, “Enough! Enough! I know what you want and you’ll have it! Just let me go!”
“I don’t know,” Jack said, stepping back and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There’s a county fair next week, and it might be entertaining to bring you there in that chair and see what people would pay to throw rotten eggs at you.”
“You’d not dare!” Jack just smirked at Old Nick. The Devil winced and said, “You would dare. So be it! Not only will I give you wealth, but I swear to never, ever, have anything to do with you again in this world or the next! Now there’s your money,“ and with a puff of smoke a trunk filled with gold bonds appeared on the floor, “and set me free!”
Smiling, Jack let him go. “So long, neighbor,” he said. “I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again.” Old Nick said nothing, he just disappeared.
And so once again Jack was rich. He thought that after three times he might be pushing his luck if he lived wildly again. So once more he behaved himself, went to church, gave to the poor and unfortunate… for a month and a day. The he decided that was penance enough and told his wife, “This time I’ll let fate decide what will become of the money. I’ll go and bet everything I have on a horse. If it wins, we’ll be rich forever; and if it loses, well, we’ve been poor before.”
So Jack went to the track and put down enough money to choke a moose on one of the ponies. And it came in first. And Jack whooped and yelled and got so excited that he fell down dead.
The next thing he knew, he was standing before the Pearly Gates. Saint Peter was there, an old man in a robe, and he looked up from his records to say, “Well, another Dutchman! You can go in, my good man, but let me check your name first. Your lot are pretty trustworthy, saving only the one we’ve been warned to look out for.”
“Danke, mein herr,” Jack said and he hurried towards the gate. As he did, though, Peter took him by the collar.
“Just hold on there, my good man; we have to get your name for the records.”
“Just call me Jack,” Jack said, wondering uneasily what was about to happen.
“Jack! Jack…” And then Saint Peter looked in his book and threw up his hands with a yell. “Jack! Heilige Donnervetter! You wasted three wishes from Saint Michael and made a deal with the Devil three times! You spent near your whole life cheating and stealing and lying! And you expect to get in here!”
“What, you mean you won’t take me?” Jack said.
“Take YOU? Du bist ein dummkopf!” Pete took Jack by the collar with one hand and by the seat of his pants with the other, bum rushed him to the edge of the nearest cloud, and with one mighty heave tossed him over the side. “Out! OUT!”
And so Jack fell and fell and fell, and I bet you know where he landed. But when he got there, the gates which normally stood wide open were shut tight and wrapped in barbed wire and the guard towers had machine gun barrels poking from them and aimed right at him. And so there Jack stood in a pumpkin patch on the edge of Hell.
“Ah well,” Jack said as he walked up to the gates, “at least I’ll know many of the people here. Hey, Nick!” and he pounded on the knocker. “Open up, it’s your old friend Jack out here, and it’s cold and dark!”
“Don’t you even come nearer!” Old Nick yelled from inside. “I let you in, and you’ll have it out from under me in a day!”
“But the folks at the other place said I got to some here,” Jack said. “So open up!”
“I don’t have to take anyone I don’t want to,” Old Nick yelled back. “So go to Paradise or Purgatory or New Jersey, for all I care, but you can’t come in here!”
“How am I supposed to see in the dark?” Jack called back to him.
For a moment, silence inside. And then a glowing red coal flew out and into Jack’s hands. He yelled and tossed it from hand to hand as Nick said, “There’s your light and your warmth. Now take it and go!”
And Jack, having nothing better to do, stuck the coal inside of a hollow pumpkin and strolled off. You can still see him out in the swamps and forests at night, wandering around and looking for a place to stay from now till the Last Day. But be careful, because he’s still a cheat and he’ll lead you into a deep hole if you aren’t careful.
And that’s the story the way I heard it.
“Will it be a long trip?” Jack asked. “I‘m asking as I feel hungry, and might want a bite to eat on the way.”
“We won’t be driving on Route 66,” Old Nick snapped back. “It will be a ways, though, and no restaurants on the way.”
“Ah then!” Jack said, “Let’s take some apples for the road, then, shall we? I’ll be climbing up to throw some down to you. You wait here.” And with that Jack made quickly as though to climb the tree.
“No more tricks!” The Devil snarled back. “If you go up in that tree you’ll throw an apple at my head. You stay here and I’ll get the apples!” And with that Old Nick went past Jack and clambered up the tree. And then: “Ouch! Help, Jack, help! Ouch! Ow! This tree is full of hornets! And I’m stuck!”
“Are you sure?” Jack called back. “Maybe you’d better check again. I’ll be back tomorrow to see how you’re doing.” And with that Jack plucked a pair of apples and strolled off whistling.
The next day he came back. The tree was still there and so was the Devil and so were the hornets.
“Say, neighbor, how’s it going?” Jack yelled up.
“Ouch! How do you think it’s - ouch! -- going?” Old Nick called back down. “You cursed -- ouch! These verdammt hornets are eating me alive!”
“Really? That’s a pity,” Jack said. “If only you could get out of that tree. What’s it worth to you?”
Of course you probably know what Jack asked for -- seven years of freedom and even more wealth than the last time. Old Nick cursed and threatened and pleaded and finally gave in. Jack said the word, the Devil dropped down, said, “Here!” and gave him a pair of winning lottery tickets, and vanished.
This time, Jack told himself he ought to try and live a little more carefully and maybe give something to the poor. And he did, too, for about a month. Then he decided that he’d been good for long enough and whooped it up twice as loud as before. His old friends returned to him, pleading forgiveness for not having returned his calls. Jack forgave everyone and spent money freely on good times for all around, on horses and women and dice. And in about three years he was broke again, and once again found himself back in the smithy without any friends. Jack bewailed his unhappy fate and made sure to keep an eye on the calendar.
And when the seven years were up, who should Jack find in his smithy but Old Nick again, this time dressed as an undertaker.
“Good morning, Nick!” Jack called out cheerfully from where he stood beside his chair.
“A very good morning indeed,” Nick balefully responded, his eyes flashing fire, “now that I have you in my clutches. Now come along, and no apples and no forge hammers either!”
“Well, if I must, then I must,” Jack responded. “But may I have a horseshoe along for luck? You pick one and I’ll wait in this chair.” And he made to sit down.
“Nothing of the sort!! Old Nick yelled. He walked over to the chair and sat in it, saying, “You get the horseshoe, and I’ll sit down! You can‘t make a fool of me three times!” And so the Devil sat in the chair. And after Jack picked up not a horseshoe, but ice tongs, Old Nick tried to get up, and… “You cheating Dutchman! You fraud! You louse!”
“Why, Nick, what’s the matter? You act like you were stuck.”
“I AM stuck, as well you know! And the seat of this chair is full of horseshoe nails!”
“Well, then, in that case,” Jack said, approaching the chair as he raised the tongs, “I suppose I’ll have to yank you free!” And with that Nick seized the Devil by the ears and begin to yank and pull. Old Nick howled and roared, but he stayed where he was, and the chair didn’t move an inch. It didn’t take long at all for him to yell, “Enough! Enough! I know what you want and you’ll have it! Just let me go!”
“I don’t know,” Jack said, stepping back and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There’s a county fair next week, and it might be entertaining to bring you there in that chair and see what people would pay to throw rotten eggs at you.”
“You’d not dare!” Jack just smirked at Old Nick. The Devil winced and said, “You would dare. So be it! Not only will I give you wealth, but I swear to never, ever, have anything to do with you again in this world or the next! Now there’s your money,“ and with a puff of smoke a trunk filled with gold bonds appeared on the floor, “and set me free!”
Smiling, Jack let him go. “So long, neighbor,” he said. “I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again.” Old Nick said nothing, he just disappeared.
And so once again Jack was rich. He thought that after three times he might be pushing his luck if he lived wildly again. So once more he behaved himself, went to church, gave to the poor and unfortunate… for a month and a day. The he decided that was penance enough and told his wife, “This time I’ll let fate decide what will become of the money. I’ll go and bet everything I have on a horse. If it wins, we’ll be rich forever; and if it loses, well, we’ve been poor before.”
So Jack went to the track and put down enough money to choke a moose on one of the ponies. And it came in first. And Jack whooped and yelled and got so excited that he fell down dead.
The next thing he knew, he was standing before the Pearly Gates. Saint Peter was there, an old man in a robe, and he looked up from his records to say, “Well, another Dutchman! You can go in, my good man, but let me check your name first. Your lot are pretty trustworthy, saving only the one we’ve been warned to look out for.”
“Danke, mein herr,” Jack said and he hurried towards the gate. As he did, though, Peter took him by the collar.
“Just hold on there, my good man; we have to get your name for the records.”
“Just call me Jack,” Jack said, wondering uneasily what was about to happen.
“Jack! Jack…” And then Saint Peter looked in his book and threw up his hands with a yell. “Jack! Heilige Donnervetter! You wasted three wishes from Saint Michael and made a deal with the Devil three times! You spent near your whole life cheating and stealing and lying! And you expect to get in here!”
“What, you mean you won’t take me?” Jack said.
“Take YOU? Du bist ein dummkopf!” Pete took Jack by the collar with one hand and by the seat of his pants with the other, bum rushed him to the edge of the nearest cloud, and with one mighty heave tossed him over the side. “Out! OUT!”
And so Jack fell and fell and fell, and I bet you know where he landed. But when he got there, the gates which normally stood wide open were shut tight and wrapped in barbed wire and the guard towers had machine gun barrels poking from them and aimed right at him. And so there Jack stood in a pumpkin patch on the edge of Hell.
“Ah well,” Jack said as he walked up to the gates, “at least I’ll know many of the people here. Hey, Nick!” and he pounded on the knocker. “Open up, it’s your old friend Jack out here, and it’s cold and dark!”
“Don’t you even come nearer!” Old Nick yelled from inside. “I let you in, and you’ll have it out from under me in a day!”
“But the folks at the other place said I got to some here,” Jack said. “So open up!”
“I don’t have to take anyone I don’t want to,” Old Nick yelled back. “So go to Paradise or Purgatory or New Jersey, for all I care, but you can’t come in here!”
“How am I supposed to see in the dark?” Jack called back to him.
For a moment, silence inside. And then a glowing red coal flew out and into Jack’s hands. He yelled and tossed it from hand to hand as Nick said, “There’s your light and your warmth. Now take it and go!”
And Jack, having nothing better to do, stuck the coal inside of a hollow pumpkin and strolled off. You can still see him out in the swamps and forests at night, wandering around and looking for a place to stay from now till the Last Day. But be careful, because he’s still a cheat and he’ll lead you into a deep hole if you aren’t careful.
And that’s the story the way I heard it.