Once upon a time there lived a poor tailor in Clitra, in the county of Lancashire. He worked conscientiously, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not get out of poverty.
When things got really bad for him, the poor guy decided to sell his soul to the devil. Who could blame him for this? Like every person, he wanted at least a little money and joy in this world, and what would happen in the next - it didn’t matter.
The poor tailor found out exactly what to do and how to do it. I wrote a letter in which I agreed to give my soul to the devil in fifteen years, and before going to bed, I put the letter under my pillow. The next morning, instead of a letter, he found half a crown there. The tailor knew that these half-crowns were a deposit, and if he took the deposit, it meant that he agreed to the deal.
He took the money, and although it was small, he still rejoiced, anticipating better times. Now he will no longer be hungry and cold! Soon he will buy himself everything he wants, live in a big house, and eat to his heart's content. And even drink wine!
That's what the poor tailor thought.
But alas! Time passed, and although the deal took place, he had neither luck nor income - nothing at all that he dreamed of. He remained a loser as he was. His scissors became dull, he lost his needle, the cloth was all cut, and his customers either skimped or completely forgot to pay him for his work.
In a word, everything was as before.
“Oh, I shouldn’t have sold my soul to the devil,” the little tailor thought with annoyance.
But little by little he began to forget that he had once written a letter to the devil and taken a deposit to seal the deal.
And then one day he was sitting, as always, cross-legged, on a low table, when suddenly there was a loud knock on the door, and a very tall, black-haired stranger entered the house. The tailor jumped up, rubbing his hands - he thought that this was a rich customer.
— Would you like a pair of new breeches, sir? he asked.
“No, it’s not about the breeches,” answered the stranger in a dull, low voice.
“There is a nice little floral silk available, sir, if you would like to order a new waistcoat,” the tailor continued.
“No, I didn’t come for a vest,” said the stranger.
Tailor began to understand his fear, and he remembered something:
“There’s also g-g-green s-cloth... b-b-bottle color, your s-s-lordship... on the coat.”
Then the stranger lost all patience, stepped straight up to the tailor, grabbed him by the neckerchief and said:
- Don't recognize me? It's payback time! I've come for you!
And with these words the devil - and it was none other than him - dragged the poor fellow out of the house. The little tailor begged for mercy. He told the devil what a miserable life he was leading, how things were bad for him, and this, and in general everything was going wrong, and he had not seen any joy from this deal in all these long years.
“Oh, Your Majesty, in the end, won’t you fulfill at least one of my wishes!” - exclaimed the poor tailor when they were already on the threshold. - Just one wish!
Well, the devil knew well within himself that he had not acted very honestly, and when the tailor repeated his request, he finally gave in.
“Okay, one wish,” he grumbled, “but quickly!”
Taken by surprise, the tailor looked around, not knowing what to come up with. The last hour has struck. What should I wish for him?
But the only thing that caught his eye was an old dapple-gray nag, nibbling the grass in the meadow in front of the house. He looked up at the ominous stranger and suddenly blurted out:
“I wish you to jump on that gray nag and get away and never scare poor people again!”
Before the tailor had time to say this, the devil, screaming wildly, let go of his neckerchief and a moment later was already sitting on a gray horse, which was rushing him along the road.
And most importantly, no one ever saw the devil again, at least in Lancashire.
But this is not the end of the story. As you can guess, this incident soon became known to everyone. And from all over the country, curious people began to flock to Klitra, wanting to look at the man who had outwitted the devil himself, and to hear the whole story from his own lips.
Soon the tailor had more than enough customers. And he lived richly and cheerfully. And for his new workshop, he ordered a sign on which this whole story was drawn - in general terms, of course. And if you go to Klitra, you will probably see her there.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru