I don't know...'
The Devil hates excuses, and is above all practical, so he just
whipped the soul of a lawyer out of his side-pocket, tied a knot in it
to stiffen it, and shoved it into the hole.
'There!' said the Devil contentedly; 'if you had taken a piece of rag,
or what not, you might yourself... Hulloa!...' He looked down and saw
the hole still gaping, and he felt a furious draught coming up again.
He wondered a little, and then muttered: 'It's a pity I have on my
best things. I never dare crease them, and I have nothing in my
pockets to speak of, otherwise I might have brought something bigger.'
He felt in his left-hand trouser pocket, and fished out a pedant,
crumpled him carefully into a ball, and stuffed him hard into the
hole, so that he suffered agonies. Then the Devil watched carefully.
The soul of the pedant was at first tugged as if from below, then
drawn slowly down, and finally shot off out of sight.
'This is a most extraordinary thing!' said the Devil.
'It is the draught. It is very strong between the joists,' ventured
the Learned Man.
'Fiddle-sticks ends!' shouted the Devil.
