Tales and Legends from the Land of the Tzar/The Potter and the Evil Spirit
THE POTTER AND THE EVIL SPIRIT.
Coming along a high road one day, a certain Potter met a man, who, stopping him, said,—
"Take me to your place as a workman."
"But do you understand pottery?" asked the Potter.
"Oh, yes, master, nobody better; just you try."
"Come along, then!"
And they shook hands with each other and went home.
"Well, give me forty loads of clay," said the man, when he arrived, "and to-morrow I shall set to work."
The Potter got all the things he wanted, and gave them to him.
"I shall only work at night, master," said the man; "but take care and don't come near me in the workroom."
"Why not?"
"Because if you do, bad luck will befall you."
Now this man was no other than an evil spirit, and when it was about midnight, he went down into the workroom and called out something in a loud voice, suddenly in came tumbling a number of little devils, who immediately set to work, hammering away like thunder, making pots. The noise was so great that it sounded all through the house and in the streets.
The Potter could stand it no longer.
"I shall go and see what all that row is about!"
The Potter went down to the workshop and looked through the key-hole in the door; and there, to his surprise, he saw the little demons hard at work, with the exception of one, who was lame, and limped about doing nothing but looking round him. All at once he noticed the Potter looking through the key-hole, so he took up a handful of clay and threw it through the key-hole, right into the Potter's eye, so that the unfortunate man became blind of one eye, and ran upstairs to his room in a great rage.
Next morning the Evil Spirit came to the Potter, and said,—
"Go, master, and see how many pots I have made in one night!"
The Potter went down and counted one hundred and forty pots standing all in a row.
"Now, master," said the Evil Spirit, "I want you to get me a thousand fathoms of wood, for I intend to bake the pots to-night."
When he had got what he asked for, the Evil Spirit shut himself up at midnight in the workroom, and called for the little demons again, who came in jumping and dancing, and after breaking all the pots they threw them into the fire and burnt them.
When the Potter saw all this through the key-hole, he thought to himself,—
"This man will be the ruin of me. I shall lose all I have in the way of work."
In the morning the Evil Spirit called his master, and said,—
"Look here, master, have I not done my work well?"
The Potter looked round him, and much to his surprise beheld one hundred and forty pots, each better than the other!
At midnight the Evil Spirit called the demons once more, and they set to work and began painting the pots very beautifully, and then put them all in a cart.
When market-day came round, the Potter took the pots to market, while the Evil Spirits ran about all over the place and made everybody buy the pots. All the people flew out of their houses and crowded round the cart, each eager to have the best pot.
The Potter returned home with not a single pot in his cart, but with his pockets full of money.
"Well," said the Evil Spirit, "let us halve the money between us, master."
This was done, and the Evil Spirit departed.
In about a week's time the Potter went once more to market with some pots of his own make; but, alas! no one came to buy any more of him; he stood and stood, and called out, but all in vain, not a soul came near him, some passed him by hurriedly, exclaiming,—
"We know your pots, you old cheat! They are pretty enough to look at, but when they come to be used, they break! We know your tricks, old man; no more of your pots for us!"
Time went on, still no one bought his pots; at last the unfortunate man became very poor, and through his trouble took to drink; he turned his house and workshop into a public-house, and tried to earn his money in that way, but I don't know whether he succeeded; let us hope, however, that if he is alive now he is better off, and does not let himself be cheated by the Evil Spirit any more.