Jack and the Devil's Purse Read Online Free PDF Page A

me, nothing at all.’
    She said, ‘Ye’re demented some way.’
    He said, ‘I’m no demented.’
    She said, ‘Did ye look . . . were there anything in the pockets o’ that coat you found in the road?’
    ‘Aye, there were something in one pocket. But you’re no gettin it. I’m keepin it!’
    She says, ‘What was it?’
    He says, ‘A sixpence, a silver sixpence, and I’m keepin it, you’re no gettin it. Dinna ask it!’
    He said, ‘Ah well,’ says the old woman, ‘I canna dae nothin with you. The best thing ye can dae is go back and put that coat where you got it.’
    ‘No,’ he says, ‘I’m no puttin the coat where I got it. I’m goin to keep it, suppose it is the Devil’s coat, I’m keepin it!’
    ‘Oh well,’ she said, ‘it’s up to yourself.’
    But the days passed by and the old man got worse every day. He got so that the old woman couldn’t put up with him. Her life was greetin terrible with him for nearly a week. The old man was demented and the old woman couldn’t get a minute’s peace with him. Every night . . . the coat over him, the coat off him, the coat over him, the coat off him. And the old woman wouldna bide in the tent with the coat for God!
    But one day she says to herself, ‘I canna take this nae longer. Either he goes or I go. If the coat disna go, I’ll go!’ she tellt the old man.
    ‘You can go if you want,’ he said, ‘but I’m keepin the coat.’
    ‘Oh well . . .’ she said.
    The woman lifted her wee basket and away she went. She wandered away down to an old woman she knew, an old henwife who kept hens on a wee croft.
    Out comes the woman: ‘Oh it’s yourself, Maggie,’ she says.
    ‘Aye.’
    ‘Ye back for the winter?’
    ‘Aye, I’m back for the winter.’
    ‘Well, ye’re just in time. I was cleaning up and haein a wee cup o’ tea. Come on in and hae a wee cup o’ tea wi me,’ she said. So this old hen woman liked old Maggie awful much. She said, ‘I’ll hae a look for some stuff to ye afterward.’ The old woman made her a cup o’ tea and gave her scones and cheese.
    ‘Oh, by the way, how is old John getting on?’ she says. ‘Is he keepin all right?’
    ‘No,’ says Maggie, ‘he’s no keepin all right, to tell ye the truth. There’s something far wrong with him.’
    Oh, God bless me,’ says the old henwife, ‘he’s no ill is he?’
    No,’ says the old woman, ‘he’s no ill. No ill nae way . . . he’s worse than ill – he’s demented. And bad and wicked.’
    ‘Well,’ says the old henwife, ‘it’s a droll thing. I’ve kent old John for many’s a year. He used to come here and dig my garden and cut sticks for me, do a wee bit job for me. And there’s no a nicer old man that ever walked the country. Everybody in the district has got a great name about him.’
    ‘Well,’ Maggie says, ‘he’s a changed man today. Ever since he found that
coat
.’
    ‘What coat?’ says the old henwife.
    So the old woman up and tellt her the story.
    ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘did he look the pockets out?’
    ‘Aye, he looked the pockets out.’
    She said, ‘What was in the pocket o’ the coat?’
    ‘A sixpence.’
    ‘Ah,’ the old henwife said, ‘a sixpence, aye . . . What kind o’ coat was it?’
    She tellt her: ‘Long and black, velvet neck, velvet pockets and four black-horned shiny buttons. And to mak it worse, the night he brung it back old John went outside for a wee walk to hisself, an’ I looked. As low as my mother,’ she says to the old woman, ‘I’ll no tell you a lie, but I could swear on the Bible these four buttons turned into four eyes and they were winkin and blazin at me!’
    ‘God bless me,’ says the old henwife, ‘where did he get it?’
    Maggie says, ‘He found it on the bridge, the haunted bridge goin to the village.’
    ‘Oh aye,’ said the old woman, ‘hmmm. Well, I’ll tell ye, the morn’s Sunday and I’m goin to the church to the village.Would it be all right if I take a wee walk in and see you on