To cut a long story short, the man became rich, he paid a wage to the labourer and lived as cool as a cucumber. But the Demon was not so delighted and thought:
Well, I have more than paid for the loaf of bread that I had stolen. My master lives like a fighting cock, and its the right time to say goodbye to him. So it would be a good thing to play a dirty trick on the man to round the evening off!
And then he said to the farmer:
Look, man, there is a stock of wheat here in abundance. What should we do with it?
What do you mean what should we do? We would eat for health, give alms to the poor, we could donate help to a hospital, or give loans to those who have lost crops. And let the rest be stored for a rainy day! There may come a bad year, said Jonah the Needy.
The Demon did not like these words, so he explained:
Its gonna be a devil of a nuisance to keep the harvest in the granary! You must stir the grain once and again to protect it from rotting, from spoiling by mice, and so on. Ive got an idea and, if possible, this matter will bring us considerable profit, honour, and glory.
Whats the matter? asked the man.
The point is very simple. People are brewing beer from barley, and we would brew something from wheat maybe this thing will pan out, said the Demon.
Well, try it yourself, if you like. Its none of my business, replied Jonah the Needy.
The Demon set to work: he procured boilers and vats, ground the corn and began to boil the wheat. There he was stirring the soup, adding hops from time to time. He made a drink pure as water, bitter and strong as mustard, burning the mouth like flame. The Demon began humming and dancing with joy, named the drink moonshine, poured it into large bottles, then poured some into a glass, put it on the table and cordially invited his master:
Yeah, its all there, all that you need, gilt-edged!
Jonah the Needy sipped some drink from the glass, pulled his face and choked:
Oh, it tastes a bit bitter! It burns the throat as if it was brewed by a demon!
The Demon just smiled:
Its nothing! The more profound the drink, the more pleasure of drinking. Gulp down another glass! Dont worry, it will not hurt you. Its the same bread, just boiled.
The man drank the second glass, and it seemed not to burn as badly as the first one.
Its bitter, said the farmer, but the heat spreads throughout the body. Thats a good job!
The Demon poured him a third glass and sighed:
See what happens next, lets have another one!
The master clinked with the labourer and drank the third glass in one gulp.
Really, its not so bitter, said Jonah the Needy. Its not bitter at all!
To say not bitter means to say nothing, said the Demon. This tastes out of this world! Lets have one more drink!
The man himself moved up the glass.
Oh cheers! he said. Indeed, its a very tasty drink, it makes me cheerful. Yea, I feel like a new man of hot blood, ten years younger Im walking on air! Oh dear, my woman wont recognize me, thats for sure!
Lets pour a fifth glass still enjoy it, said the Demon.
And a sixth glass, I think, would not hurt us! cried Jonah the Needy.
Viva moonshine! yelled the drunken Demon and started dancing around the house.
Wait a minute, shouted the man trying to pour the sixth glass. I would be dancing with you if the hut were not shaking somehow up and down.
The Demon thought aloud:
Yeah, pigs might fly! It looks like Im in a belly of hell; your soul, man, is in my pocket; and the Great Devil, our Lord, bestowed me the title of Black Demon for my trick, which will lead endless crowds of human souls under our wings
The bottle fell down and broke into pieces. The farmers wife came running and their children were running behind her. They looked their dad was dancing with the labourer. They began to laugh, and it was the first time, when their father become a laughingstock for his children. Only the wife did not laugh she realized that her husband was out of his mind. The drunken men began squirming after a great merriment, and black tar was flowing from the Demons mouth.
The woman ran to a barber for assistance and brought him home. The booze fighters had collapsed in the same place, where they had done a job. One of them was sleeping under a bench, and the other in a pigs trough.
They had slept it off by the morning, got up, but could barely move their eyes were weary and their heads were like heavy stones.
No problem, said the Demon. Let us fight fire with fire lets have a drink!
Oh no, you must be joking! moaned Jonah the Needy.
You should drink in one go. Well take a cup of kindness for old long since! said the Demon and drank a mug of moonshine. The man obeyed and drank after him.
Its true I feel better. Now I got it, lets have another drink! Call the neighbours let people know that I am no longer Jonah the Needy!
Just a moment, said the Demon, the more, the merrier; lets have a revel!
Since then, the farmer became fond of the bottle. The wife had a lot to put up with living with a drunkard like him. In less than a year Jonah the Needy had died. His land and his house were sold for the debts. His kids were left in the rough and rocky lap of poverty. They had to ask for handouts and listen to spiteful words about their father
A lot of water had flowed under the bridge since then, and vodka has spread among people the gift of the Black Demon.
The Hempen Shirt
A Chuvash folk tale
Scholars agree that todays Chuvash are descendants of at least three groups: Turkic Bulgar tribes who arrived on the Volga in the seventh century from the Caucasus-Azov region; the closely-related Suvars (suvaz, perhaps the origin of chavash) who migrated from the Caucasus in the eighth century; and Finno-Ugric tribes who inhabited Chuvashia before the Turkic settlement.
Encyclopedia of Russian History, editor in chief James Millar
Once upon a time there lived a man and his wife. One day the husband felt bad and became ill. He suffered for a while and then died. Some time passed and an evil spirit got into the habit to visit the young widow every night. The devil used to appear before the woman in the guise of a handsome man and she became infatuated with him. Finally she realized that something terrible was happening. Somehow or other, the unfortunate woman tried to get rid of the man. She was almost exhausted, but the devil preyed on her mind and she could not do anything with him.
Once the widow told the woman next door about her trouble and the good woman said to her:
Dear, you should curtain the doorway with a hempen shirt. It will not allow the evil spirit to enter the house.
The widow obeyed her neighbour. She made a long shirt from hempen cloth and curtained the doorway to her house. The next night, the evil spirit came to the widow but the Hempen Shirt told him:
Wait a minute, good man, listen to what I have had to see and experience in my lifetime.
Well, what is it with you? Come on, get it out, answered the evil spirit.
Look, even before I had come into the world, the Shirt began its story, there was a great deal of trouble with me. In the old days there lived a farmer in a village. Once on a spring morning he ploughed up the field. In a while, he harrowed the surface of his plot, and only then planted the hemp that was me! At a later date, he harrowed the soil for the second time. The ground covered me like a blanket, and the sun warmed my bed. While the first rains have made the ground damp, there sprouted little stems and I saw the light. Well then, when I was born, I began to grow and grow, rising to the sun