hing should have been to cross himself, then to leave
everything and run downstairs; but he immediately reflected that he was
meeting a devil for the first and probably the last time, and not to
take advantage of his services would be foolish. He controlled himself
and determined to try his luck. Clasping his hands behind him to avoid
making the sign of the cross, he coughed respectfully and began:

"They say that there is nothing on earth more evil and impure than the
devil, but I am of the opinion, your honor, that the devil is highly
educated. He has--excuse my saying it--hoofs and a tail behind, but he
has more brains than many a student."

"I like you for what you say," said the devil, flattered. "Thank you,
shoemaker! What do you want?"

And without loss of time the shoemaker began complaining of his lot. He
began by saying that from his childhood up he had envied the rich. He
had always resented it that all people did not live alike in big houses
and drive with good horses. Why, he asked, was he poor? How was he worse
than Kuzma Lebyodkin from Warsaw, who had his own house, and whose wife
wore a hat? He had the same sort of nose, the same hands, feet, head,
and back, as the rich, and so why was he forced to work when others
were enjoying themselves? Why was he married to Marya and not to a
lady smelling of scent? He had often seen beautiful young ladies in
the houses of rich customers, but they either took no notice of him
whatever, or else sometimes laughed and whispered to each other: "What
a red nose that shoemaker has!" It was true that Marya was a good, kind,
hard-working woman, but she was not educated; her hand was heavy and
hit hard, and if one had occasion to speak of politics or anything
intellectual before her, she would put her spoke in and talk the most
awful nonsense.

"What do you want, then?" his customer interrupted him.

"I beg you, your honor Satan Ivanitch, to be graciously pleased to make
me a rich man."

"Certainly. Only for that you must give me up your soul! Before the
cocks crow, go and sign on this paper here that you give me up your
soul."

"Your honor," said Fyodor politely, "when you ordered a pair of boots
from me I did not ask for the money in advance. One has first to carry
out the order and then ask for payment."

"Oh, very well!" the customer assented.

A bright flame suddenly flared up in the mortar, a pink thick smoke came
puffing out, and there was a smell of burnt