The Peasant Tolome and the Devil

Between Valois and Conté, near Mont-Failly, there once lived a peasant named Tolome with his family. At first, things on his farm were going well, but then Tolome's father died, and from that day on, misfortune after misfortune befell the poor man. Crop failures followed crop failures, livestock were struck by one disease after another, the lord of the manor grew greedier, and his wife and children fell ill constantly. In the end, Tolome was completely impoverished. What was he to do? No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he racked his brains from morning till night, life became increasingly difficult.

And then, on the very evening when his last horse died, a fire broke out on the farm, burning down all the barns and granaries; only the chicken coops, the doghouse, and part of the house remained. Things couldn’t get any worse. Tolome was ruined, utterly ruined.

The next morning, he wandered along the edge of the burnt forest. His heart was so heavy that he couldn’t help exclaiming:

"If only the devil would help me!"

No sooner had he uttered these words than a little man, no more than a few inches tall, appeared out of nowhere, jumped onto his shoulder, and began hopping back and forth on the astonished Tolome.

Tolome noted with pleasure that this was a pretty little devil—cheerful, lively, sprightly, and dressed in a handsome green coat with golden fringe. His hat, adorned with a long peacock feather, was jauntily tilted over his tiny face.

"Tolome, Tolome, things look bad for you, I see! Your fields are overrun with weeds, your livestock are dead, your wife is ill, and almost your entire farm has burned down! You don’t even know which saint to pray to anymore, so you called for me. Well, here I am. Let’s talk plainly. How can I serve you?"

Tolome explained to the devil what he needed.

"Excellent, Uncle Tolome. You’ll have a splendid farm, large barns and granaries full of grain and hay, plenty of horses and cows, and your wife and children will recover—if only you want it..."

"Do I want it? Of course!"

"You’ll have all of this tonight, the very moment the rooster crows in your yard. But if I honestly fulfill my promise..."

"What then?"

"Then you’ll give me the soul of your eldest son."

"The soul of my eldest son?"

"Yes."

"You must be joking."

"Not at all. Take it or leave it. Something for nothing—that’s my rule. You give, you take!"

Tolome pondered. He understood that giving his son’s soul to an evil spirit was a terrible thing, but on the other hand, he imagined how wonderful life would be on the new farm, and he agreed.

"Deal," he said to the little green man. "I agree, but on the condition that you finish everything by the moment the rooster crows. If you don’t manage it, the farm will remain mine, and you’ll get nothing."

"Fine, it’s a deal. Now, sign here."

The evil spirit pulled out a huge scroll of parchment from his pocket, large enough to hide a dozen such devils. He unrolled it, then pulled out a sharpened goose quill, a table, and finally a knife, which he used to cut the peasant’s hand. A drop of scarlet blood appeared, and the devil dipped the quill into it, handing it to Tolome to sign the terrible contract. Tolome wrote his name alongside many others.

Then the little man somersaulted, tucked the parchment, knife, quill, and table back into his pocket, and disappeared into the bushes with a joyful cry:

"Ha-ha-ha! Dick-i-Don has had another successful day!"

Tolome wandered through the forest until evening.

When he returned home, he saw thousands of little devils carrying stones, lime, and sand, tearing down old walls, digging, forging, and carving—all with incredible speed and hellish noise, while other little devils lit their way with torches.

Tolome’s wife and children immediately recovered, but they were very puzzled by the commotion and couldn’t understand where Tolome had found all these workers building their farm.

The peasant told his wife what had happened between him and the devil near the burnt forest and asked for her advice.

"What have you done, you fool! To give your son to the devil! You’re no better than the devil yourself!"

"I was hoping you’d help me trick him and get out of this mess with honor."

Tolome’s wife thought for a moment.

"You say the devil must finish all the work by the time the rooster crows? Good. It’s no accident that the Lord God long ago decided that women should be friends with the serpent. I’ll manage to keep both the new farm and our son’s soul."

The devils had been ordered to finish the work before dawn, by five in the morning, when the roosters usually crow. That’s when Tolome’s wife decided to outsmart them.

Around four in the morning, she quietly got up and went to the chicken coop. The work was almost finished. The peasant woman unlocked the coop and woke the rooster, which crowed at the top of its lungs: "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"

And so, they outsmarted the devil Dick-i-Don. He fled with all his helpers, leaving the fence incomplete, with a few stones missing. In place of the old farm stood a new, splendid one. The barns and granaries were bursting with grain and hay, the stables and pens were filled with strong horses and well-fed cows, and in the cupboard lay a large sack of gold.

From that day on, the peasant Tolome lived richly and happily and never saw the deceived Dick-i-Don again, who decided never to renew his acquaintance with someone who had once outwitted him.

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The Peasant Tolome and the Devil

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