One day, Lucifer came out of hell and went to make deals with workers. First he came to a miller nicknamed Pierre the Rogue, who had a windmill. The devil agreed with the miller that he would supply him with a thousand measures of flour every day, and if there was a day when he could not cope with the work, the devil had the right to take him to hell at the end of the year. The devil, in turn, undertook to ensure that the mill did not break down. And he undertook to send a wind that would turn her wings.
When the deal was concluded, the devil decided that a thousand measures a day was not enough for him, and turned to Pierre the Simpleton, who had a water mill.
The millers began to grind, and the matter went on for several days. But soon the devil began to reproach Pierre the Rogue that his flour turned out worse than his neighbor’s at the water mill.
“It’s not my fault,” answered the miller. “Pierre the Simpleton has more order at the mill than I do.”
After this, Lucifer made a deal with the baker, who would receive flour from both mills and bake bread. The baker's oven was very large, about a hundred feet in circumference. He himself only had to plant the grain, because Lucifer sent his little devils there to help him.
After this, the devil went to the shoemaker and told him to supply him with a hundred pairs of boots every day.
- How do you think I can do this? - asked the shoemaker
- I will help you and pay you well. What's your price?
- Ten thousand francs.
“Okay,” said the devil. “But if you don’t work hard, I’ll take you to hell in a year.”
The shoemaker set to work and on the first day made one hundred pairs of boots. But the next day he started drinking, and the devil beat him up, scolding him for his bad behavior.
“You better help me a little,” said the shoemaker, “and we will soon make up for lost time.”
“I’m busy,” the devil snapped, “I still need to find myself a tailor.”
The tailor had to supply twenty-five jackets and twenty-five pairs of pants every day. “But what you demand is beyond my power!” - exclaimed the tailor.
“It will be possible if I want, and you will also have no shortage of assistants.” But if the job is poorly done, you will have to go to hell in a year. What fee do you want?
- Twenty thousand francs.
“I agree,” answered the devil.
The tailor tried his best, but the work was not going as well as he wanted, and he remembered the devil’s promise to give him assistants.
At his request, Lucifer sent him a hundred little devils, and as soon as they looked at the cloth, the trousers were already ready.
“Now,” said the devil after the deal with the tailor, “I must turn to the blacksmith.” I need horseshoes for my horses and locks for my rooms.
He went to the blacksmith. The blacksmith enjoyed an unenviable reputation and was without work; his name was Pierre Skvernoslov.
“Pierre the Foul,” said the devil, “if you want to take an order from me, I will get you iron, coal and everything you need.”
“This will come in handy,” answered the blacksmith, “because my forge is completely empty.”
“You won’t lose money,” said the devil, “but for this you must make a hundred horseshoes and a hundred locks a day.”
“Okay, but you have to send me apprentices to blow the forge.”
- Agree. What kind of payment are you asking for?
- Fifty thousand francs.
- Fifty thousand francs! Yes, you are obviously laughing at me!
“Well, if you think that’s a lot, we’ll settle for twenty-five thousand.”
Pierre Skvernoslov got to work and fulfilled the order every day.
Having concluded deals with everyone, the devil went to see how his workers were coping.
He met Pierre the Rogue at the door of the windmill.
- Well, how are you?
- Not quite the way I would like. While you are walking around somewhere, either the wind is not blowing or the millstones are failing. I alone cannot lift them or cut them.
“I’ll help you,” said the devil.
- Climb under the millstone and chop, and I will hold it so that it does not fall.
The devil took the hammer and climbed under the millstone. Seeing that the devil was completely absorbed in his work, Pierre the Rogue released the millstone from his hands and shouted:
“I can’t hold him, I can’t hold him!”
He quickly set the mill into motion, and the devil, feeling that he was about to be crushed, began to scream desperately. He begged Pierre the Rogue to release him and promised to seal with blood an obligation not to take the miller to hell in a year.
Then Lucifer went to the water mill to Pierre the Simpleton, who was a simple-minded man. Everything went well with him, and the devil praised him, promising to give him the best water mill in his hell.
“Yes, give it to me now,” said Pierre the Simpleton.
- So you want me to take you to hell now?
“Well, yes,” he answered, “I will willingly agree.”
The devil took the poor miller to hell and went to the baker.
“There’s not enough bread up there, and it’s often poorly baked.”
“I tried my best, but I don’t have enough helpers.”
— Maybe your stove is not working?
- Who knows? Now the bread is being baked - come back tomorrow and see if there is anything that needs fixing.
“I’ll try to outwit him,” thought the baker, “but how to do this? You can't burn it on fire. I’ll get myself a vat of holy water and put it near the stove, as if there were ordinary spring water there, then I’ll get myself an old stole.”
The next day the devil came terribly angry and began to shout that the bread was baked even worse than before. The baker, opening the door, invited the devil to climb into the oven himself and inspect it.
Lucifer climbed in, and the baker sprinkled holy water on the oven and closed the door with a stone so that the devil wouldn’t come out. Poor Lucifer screamed as if his skin was being torn off:
- Take me out of the oven, I'll burn!
— Sign that you waive all rights to me.
- I can’t sign, I don’t see anything. The baker opened the door, and when the devil stuck out,
wrapped the epitrachelion around him and did not take it off until the devil, according to all the rules, signed the paper. Then Lucifer went to the shoemaker.
“You are a bad master,” he told him. “I don’t have enough boots upstairs, and the ones you made aren’t any good.”
- It’s impossible to do better! Stand between these two skins and see how I sew them tightly together.
Lucifer, not suspecting anything, stood between the two skins, and the shoemaker sewed them together, so tightly that the devil could not even move his hands.
- Let me go, my friend! - the devil begged. - No shoemaker should ever go to hell! It's as true as my name being Lucifer.
“You will remain between these skins until you give up all rights to me.”
The devil did not agree and ran around like this for two days, trying in vain to shed his skin. Willy-nilly he had to turn again to the shoemaker:
“Take these skins off me, dear friend, I beg you.”
“Give up on me or you’ll stay like this forever.”
Lucifer signed the paper and went to the tailor.
— How is work going?
- I tried my best.
“That’s true,” said the devil, “I can’t complain about you.” Can you fix my pants, they are completely torn?
The tailor repaired the pants very well, and the devil said to him:
- Now sew me a suit, but without seams.
— Without seams? I cannot sew such a suit for you, but if you want, I will cut it out of this piece of cloth for you.
He threw the cloth over the devil.
- Just stand straight.
“Don’t cut so close to the body,” the devil remarked. The tailor took large scissors and cut the cloth from top to bottom, grabbing the skin and meat. Lucifer let out heartbreaking screams, especially when the tailor's wife and children began to sprinkle holy water on him.
“Ah,” exclaimed the devil, “I found only one honest man on earth - Pierre the Simpleton!”
- Sign a paper that you promise to give up on me.
- No way!
- Well, water it properly.
- I’ll sign, I’ll sign! - the devil yelled. Then he went to the blacksmith.
- Are you working?
- Yes, as much as I can.
“That’s right, almost everyone upstairs already has horseshoes and locks.” You are a good blacksmith, and it was in vain that people slandered you.
“Your boots,” said the blacksmith, “are already worn out; If you want, I can forge your heels, and the boots will be like new.
- It’s such a good idea, but I wish I had steel heels.
- It can be done.
- Shoe me, I will reward you generously
The blacksmith forged nails, sharp as an awl and at least half a meter long, then said to the devil:
“Now I have to tie you up.” You know that you can’t shoe an untied horse.
The blacksmith fastened the devil to the door with two iron chains, and while he held the devil by the leg, one of the apprentices heated the horseshoes. When they were ready, the blacksmith took one of them, dipped it in holy water and placed the devil on his leg. He screamed with good obscenities.
“Wait,” the blacksmith shouted to him, “I’ll hit you!”
And, hitting with all his might with the hammer, he drove the nails into his leg up to the knee.
- Let me go, let me go! - the devil shouted. - All people are rogues, and the worst of them is you!
- No, we need to shoe you on both feet, I don’t like to do anything halfway.
He shod the other leg. Lucifer screamed as loud as he could, and the blacksmith sprinkled him with holy water, saying:
— When shoeing a horse, you need to water the iron!
The devil signed that he renounced all rights to the blacksmith, and then, angry and offended, he left, limping, from the forge. So the baker died and, approaching the gates of heaven, knocked. Saint Peter opened it to him and said:
- Go your way, there’s nothing for you to do here.
That's it! - thought the baker. “I once fried the devil, now he’ll warm me up!”
Approaching the doors of hell, the baker said to the gatekeeper.
“It’s like I’m supposed to come in here?”
- What's your name?
“Pierre Dufour.” “I already heard about you from my master,” said the gatekeeper. “Lucifer,” he shouted to the devil, “here Pierre Dufour asked him to give him a place with us.”
- Hit him in the neck. He probably thinks that I don’t remember how he roasted me in his oven.
“I’ve finally gotten rid of him,” the baker thought. “But I still need to find some kind of shelter.”
He went to purgatory and met Saint Yves, who told him:
- What do you want, my friend?
“Would your honor have a place for me?”
-What is your craft?
- I'm a baker
“It’s strange that you can’t find a place for yourself.”
“I can’t.” Saint Peter slammed the gate in my face, and the Devil kicked me out of hell because I once fried him in the oven.
- Come in, my friend, we’ll try to find you some corner. Bakers usually don’t have a bad reputation!
Some time later, Pierre the Rogue died.
He came to the gates of heaven and Saint Peter told him
- What do you want here?
- May you open the gates of heaven for me.
- What were you doing?
- He was a miller.
- My friend, not a single miller has ever crossed the threshold of heaven - they are all thieves and rogues.
So I’m caught,” thought Pierre the Rogue, “I’ll have to go to the one whom I almost crushed between the millstones.”
Passing by purgatory, he knocked just in case.
- Can't I come in here? he asked.
— Were you, by any chance, a miller?
- Was.
- Millers are not allowed in purgatory, go.
- To hell! I wouldn't like to go to this place. After all, I almost killed the devil. Place me in some corner of yours!
“I just can’t,” answered Saint Yves.
When the miller approached the doors of hell, the gatekeeper asked him:
- What do you want here?
- I want to come in.
- What's your name?
- Pierre the Rogue.
- That's it! So are you Pierre the Rogue? Wasn't it you who treated our master so well?
- Yes, I am.
- Follow me then.
Pierre the Rogue trudged sadly after the gatekeeper. Seeing him, the devil shouted:
“Apparently you don’t mind grinding me today?” The miller did not answer.
“Throw him out of here this minute,” Lucifer said to the gatekeeper. “I have enough guys like him.”
Pierre the Rogue, without saying a word, went home. He still grinds flour.
After his death, the shoemaker also headed to the gates of heaven, but Saint Peter told him that his name was not on the lists, and when he approached purgatory, Saint Yves also suggested that he get away. Then the shoemaker went to the door of hell and asked for a place there.
- What's your name?
“You still don’t know my name.” I was your master's shoemaker.
- So you sewed him up so well? Well, you won't get well for that!
“I thought so,” answered the shoemaker.
- Follow me.
The shoemaker trudged after the gatekeeper with a dejected look; he believed that now he was caught. Seeing him, the devil shouted:
- Throw him out of here quickly! I won’t be Lucifer if I let even one shoemaker go to hell!
The shoemaker hurriedly left, without waiting for the gatekeeper to accompany him to the gate.
He died, in turn, and the blacksmith immediately headed to the gates of heaven.
- What do you need? - asked Saint Peter.
- I want to go to heaven.
- Do you deserve it, why are you asking to go there?
- Who knows!
- Get out, there is no place for you here.
At the gates of purgatory, Saint Yves refused to let him in, since Saint Peter had not given him the necessary papers. This time I was really caught, thought the blacksmith.
“I shoed the devil, he, in turn, will shoe me.”
The blacksmith trudged away in such small steps that it took him more than a week to get there, and when he approached hell, he began to wander around and around, not daring to enter.
- What do you want? - asked the gatekeeper.
“I came to find out if your master needs a blacksmith.”
- What's your name?
- Pierre Badmouth.
“Oh, he’s been wanting to see you for a long time.” The gatekeeper led the blacksmith to hell.
“Here,” he said, “Pierre Skvernoslov asks if you need a blacksmith.”
- Yeah! - Lucifer exclaimed. - Don't be afraid, now I will take care of you. I still have the horseshoes on my feet that you nailed to me; no one can take them off.
“If you let me go, I’ll take them off.”
-Can you do this?
- Yes, just as easily as I made it.
The blacksmith ordered the fire to be fanned and unchained the devil, who had mercy on him.
Of all the workers, Lucifer took for himself only Pierre the Simpleton, who was caught because of his simplicity.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru