Then he saw the Jew nudge the devil with his elbow.
"What are you nudging me for?" asked Khapun.
"Sh, I want to tell you something."
"What?"
"Won't you please tell me why it is your custom always to carry off a poor Jew? Why don't you catch a daintier morsel? For instance, there is an excellent miller living right here."
The devil sighed deeply. Perhaps he was tired of sitting there on the edge of the pond by the empty mill; anyhow, he entered into conversation with the Jew. He raised his skull-cap—you must know that he wore a skull-cap with long ringlets hanging from underneath it, just as the servant had described him—and scratched his crown with a rasping noise like the most savage of cats clawing a board when a mouse has escaped it. Then he said:
"Alas, Yankel, you don't know our business! I couldn't possibly approach him."
"And why, may I ask, would you have to take the time to approach him? I know for myself that you snatched me away before I could even yell."
The devil laughed so merrily that he actually frightened a night-bird out of the reeds, and said:
"That's a fact! You were easy to catch. And do you know why?"
"Why-y?"
"Because you're a good lusty catcher yourself.
