If you liked that, wanna hear another? My grandad used to tell me this one...

THERE WAS IN DUBLIN a very wicked blacksmith by the name of John. Oh, by Saint Patrick he was a wicked, evil man. He was never above doing the two things that are sure to send a blacksmith to the infernal regions: charging too much, and beating cold iron! If it was raining, the man would complain to all how dry it was. And if you had just washed your cloak, or groomed your horse, he was sure to find a reason to scatter dust about and make a great filth! There was never a more contrary man!

One day there came to the town an old dirty beggar-man. He was so frail that it took four walking-sticks to keep him upright. He moved so slow and frail that it seemed the wind of a misspoken word might tip him over. Everyone in the town that came upon him found some reason to walk to the far side of the road, none of them willing to stretch their Christian charity to speak a decent word to him.

When John saw the old man, and how the townsfolk shunned him, he said to himself; "Now here is a chance to make these holier-than-thou people feel bad! I shall invite in this wretched man, and treat him as they should have!" So he invited in the old man and set him in his best chair, the one that was set on rockers. And he set before him a feast of two hens roasted whole, and a bowl of a dozen apples, and a full pitcher of fresh milk made cool in the stream.

To his amazement, the old man ate both the hens in one bite! Then he emptied the bowl as well, and drank the pitcher of milk as if it were a thimble. John did not know what to say. The old man seemed not effected by the meal at all, but looked if anything more frail than before!

At length, John regained his voice. "Is there anything else you'll be wanting?" he asked. But before he could rise the old man started to get up, and up, and up, until he was a full ten feet tall! His rags had turned to a shining white robe, and his face was a shining light.

"I am Saint Michael," the guest said. "Long I wandered looking for a man who would take in a pitiful stranger. Only you, of all the men in the world, took me in. For that deed of Christian kindness, I will give you three wishes.

But listen, John; I have seen the book that Saint Peter keeps at the door of Heaven! You might want to keep one of those wishes to the saving of your soul!

But John seemed not to hear. "Three wishes! Well for the first, do you see that rocking chair? Not a day goes by but some oaf sits and comes near to breaking it! I wish that if anyone sits in it but me, it will rock them 'till they wish to die!

Saint Michael agreed. "Very well. It is done. Now remember your soul, and take care with your last two wishes."

But still John was not listening. "Do you see those tools? It has taken me a lifetime to get them all, yet every fool who comes here is trying to borrow them! I wish that anyone who touches my hammers will find that they will beat their brains out!"

The angel nodded. "It will be as you ask. You have but one last wish, John. You should take care and see to the rest of your soul!" But John would hear none of it. "And that thorn-bush outside; it is a favorite of mine. Yet every day some fool drives his horses or oxen over it an near kills it 'neath their hooves! I wish that if anyone touches it, that it will grab them up and sink every thorn in them until they die!"

Saint Michael sighed. "Well, it is done. That was all your wishes, and not one was for the saving of your soul. Take care, John. Repent your ways before the end does come.

Well, the day did come when John was to die. The Devil, knowing there was no chance of John going anywhere else, called a small demon to him and said; "Go above and fetch John the blacksmith. He is a goodly wicked man and I've a fine hot fire for him!"

The demon was off in a small puff of smoke, and he appeared in the front of John's shop. "Put down your hammer," he told him. "Your time is up. The Devil has sent me to take you below."

John waved him away. "I'm not going while I still have work. These horse-shoes are not yet done. You can sit and wait!"

So the little demon looked about and spied the rocking chair. "I'll just sit here," he said, and sat himself down to rock. he rocked and rocked, thenWHAM-BAM! It slammed him to the floor both front and rear! "Whathappened?" he wondered. So he began to rock again carefully. He rocked, and rocked, and WHAM-BAM! it slammed him front and rear again! And before he could breathe a word, WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM! it began to slam his head to the floor both before the chair and behind! "Help! Oh help!" he cried. "I will die if I get no help!"

"If I let you go will you swear to leave and never bother me again?" John asked.

"Oh yes oh yes oh yes!" the little demon sobbed.

So John said "Let him go!" And the chair threw the demon up in to the air, and he landed with a plop. He then vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing in the infernal regions.

"Well," said the Devil, "Where's John."

And the little demon sobbed; "IwasgoingtogeddhimbutthechairIsatinwent BAMBMAMBAManithurtsomuchIhaddatellhimIwouldn'tcomebaccause ithurtsooooomuch..."

"That John isn't going to get away from me," the Devil cried, and he called in a great big demon and said; "Go above and fetch John the blacksmith. He is a goodly wicked man, and I've a fine hot fire for him."

"No problem," the demon smiled, and disappeared, whomf! in a great cloud of smoke. He reappeared outside John's shop, whomf! "Put down your hammer," he told him. "Your time is up. The Devil has sent me to take you below."

John waved him away. "I'm not going while I still have work. These horse-shoes are not yet done. You can sit and wait!"

"Nothing doing!" the demon snarled, "I heard about your chair!" John thought a moment and said, "As soon as I finish these shoes, I'll go. But if you help, it would go a lot faster!"

The demon agreed, but just as soon as he selected a hammer and started to work the iron, something happened. Tap, tap, tap, he struck the horse-shoe, then BAM! The hammer struck him in the head! He looked at it carefully, then once again he started. Tap, tap, tap, he struck the horseshoe, then BAM! The hammer struck him in the head again! Then before he could move the hammer started pounding him, BAMBAMBAMBAM, right between the eyes!

"Help! Oh help!" he cried. "I will die if I get no help!"

"If I let you go will you swear to leave and never bother me again?" John asked.

"Oh yes oh yes oh yes!" the big demon sobbed.

So John said "Let him go!" And the hammer hit the demon up in to the air, and he landed with a plop. He then vanished , WHOMF! In a big cloud of smoke, reappearing in the infernal regions.

"Well," said the Devil, "Where's John."

And the big demon bellowed; "IwasgoingtogeddhimbuthesaidIshouldhelpmake theshoesanthehammerwentBAMBMAMBAManithurtsomuchIhaddatellhimIwouldn'tcomebackcauseithurtsooooomuch..."

The Devil said, "If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself!" So he began to climb up out of the pit, to fetch back John.

John was still working on the horse-shoes when the ground began to shake. Then the earth cracked open and great clouds of brimstone smoke filled the air. With a huge gout of fire, the Devil rose out of the ground, his hooves as big around as serving platters and his horns as wide as two men's' shoulders. "John!" he shouted, "I've come to take you down below!"

John waved him away. "I'm not going while I still have work. These horse-shoes are not yet done. You can sit and wait!"

"None of your tricks! I've heard about your chair, and I've heard about your tools!" the Devil cried. "Nothing will stop me! You're coming now!"

John set his jaw, and looked the Devil in the eye. "Well then, if you think you can take me, just try!"

And they fell to fighting and kicking. Blood was spilled and teeth were lost! It looked bad for John, for not too far into the fight, he was in the clutches of the Devil, those talon Ed hands wrapped about his throat. Then he noticed they were next to the thorn-bush. With the last of his strength he rolled them over until the Devil was right in the middle of the thorns.

Quick as a wink the thorn bush lashed out and wrapped tighter and tighter around the Devil, squeezing inward until there was no more than a tight little ball of thorns no bigger than a child's fist on the ground.

John walked up to the ball and he asked, "Devil, are you in there?"

And a tiny voice replied, "Yes sir."

"Are you going to go away and never bother me again?"

"Yes sir. Oh yes indeedy!"

"Let him go!" John cried, and the thorn-bush shot the devil up and up like a shooting star. Then he crashed into the ground with a thundering roar that shook the earth for hours.

Well, John lived many years past that time, and of course the time came when he would have to die. All things must die, and it was his time. Since no one came to take him away, John collected his tools and started off himself, on the long climb into Heaven. He climbed up and up, and finally came to the gates of Paradise. He pounded on them, and Saint Peter came running out to see what all the noise was. "Why it's John the blacksmith! We weren't expecting you!"

"Why not?" John asked. "I've died and I must go somewhere."

"Well," Saint Peter said, "We must look in the book and see if you're welcome here." With that he pulled out a huge book and turned to a page. "John! My oh my, this page shows all the good things you've done on earth. It has only one entry; You fed an old beggar-man. That's hardly enough to get you in here."

Then Saint Peter turned to the next page. "This page will list all the bad things you've done." But before he could continue, the page began to unroll, and rolled out the gates, over two or three clouds, and fell off the edge. "Oh John!" Saint Peter shook his head. "This won't do! we can't let you in Heaven!"

"Well then, where do I go?" There was only one place, so John started down, down, down to the infernal regions. It got darker and hotter and far more evil than he could have imagined. Out there on a dismal plain some small demons were playing catch with a fireball. As John approached, one of the little demons caught a glimpse of him. It was the little one the Devil had sent up first.

"OH NO!" the demon cried, "JOHN'S A'COMMIN'!" And he ran up to the gates screaming. He ran all the way into the throne room of the pit, crying

"John's a'commin'! John's a'commin'!"

And the Devil cried "JOHN? Lock all the gates! Bar all the windows! Guard all the walls! He won't get in here!"

When John knocked at the gate, the Devil cried out, "Go away! We don't want you!" "Let me in!" John called, "I've died, and they won,t let me in Heaven. I must go somewhere!"

"Not here!" the Devil replied. "No room for you in here!"

"Then where should I go?"

The Devil thought a bit, then he reached into the hottest part of the pit, and pulled out a glowing, white hot coal. This he threw over the wall to John. "Here!" the Devil shouted! "Go raise some hell of your own!"