The Potter looked round him, and much to his surprise beheld one hundred and forty pots, each better than the other!
At midnight the Evil Spirit called the demons once more, and they set to work and began painting the pots very beautifully, and then put them all in a cart.
When market-day came round, the Potter took the pots to market, while the Evil Spirits ran about all over the place and made everybody buy the pots. All the people flew out of their houses and crowded round the cart, each eager to have the best pot.
The Potter returned home with not a single pot in his cart, but with his pockets full of money.
"Well," said the Evil Spirit, "let us halve the money between us, master."
This was done, and the Evil Spirit departed.
In about a week's time the Potter went once more to market with some pots of his own make; but, alas! no one came to buy any more of him; he stood and stood, and called out, but all in vain, not a soul came near him, some passed him by hurriedly, exclaiming,—
"We know your pots, you old cheat! They are pretty enough to look at, but when they come to be used, they break! We know your tricks, old man; no more of your pots for us!"
Time went on, still no one bought his pots; at last the unfortunate man became very poor, and through his trouble took to drink; he turned his house and workshop into a public-house, and tried to earn his
