in.

He found a place with a smith, whose bellows he was to blow. He blew
them so hard, however, that he put the fire out. The smith said: "Leave
off blowing and hammer the iron on the anvil." But Giufa pounded on the
anvil so hard that the iron flew into a thousand pieces. Then the smith
became angry, but he could not send him away, for he had agreed to keep
him a year. So he went to a poor man and said: "I will make you a
handsome present if you will tell Giufa that you are Death, and that you
have come to take him away." The poor man met Giufa one day, and said
what the smith had told him. Giufa was not slow. "What, are you Death?"
cried he, seized the poor man, put him in his sack, and carried him to
the smithy. There he laid him on the anvil and began to hammer away on
him. "How many years shall I yet live?" he asked, while he was
hammering. "Twenty years," cried the man in the sack. "That is not near
enough." "Thirty years, forty years, as long as you will," screamed the
man; but Giufa kept on hammering until the poor man was dead.

The bishop once announced to the whole town that every goldsmith should
make him a crucifix, and he would pay four hundred ounces for the most
beautiful one. Whoever brought a crucifix that did not please him must
lose his head. So a goldsmith came and brought him a handsome crucifix,
but the bishop said it did not please him and had the poor man's head
cut off, but kept the crucifix. The next day a second goldsmith came,
who brought a still handsomer crucifix, but it went no better with him
than with the first. This lasted for some time and many a poor man lost
his head. When Giufa heard of this he went to a goldsmith and said:
"Master, you must make me a crucifix with a very thick body, but
otherwise as fine as you can make it." When the crucifix was done Giufa
took it on his arm and carried it to the bishop. Scarcely had the bishop
seen it when he cried out: "What are you thinking of, to bring me such a
monster? Wait, you shall pay me for it!" "Ah, worthy sir," said Giufa,
"just hear me and learn what has happened to me. This crucifix was a
model of beauty when I started with it; on the way it began to swell
with anger and the nearer your house I came the more it swelled, most of
all when I was mounting your stairs. The Lord is angry with you on
account of the innocent blood that you have shed, and if you do not at
once give me the four hundred ounces and an annuity to each of the