rolled helplessly about the lanes. The host went before to show his guests out, fell upon his nose into a puddle, and muddied himself from head to foot. There he lay like a pig, and squeaked.
The chief of the devils was more pleased with this than with anything else.
"Well done!" he cried; "this is indeed a good drink that you've concocted. You have well earned your crust. Tell me," said he, "how did you make this drink? I suppose you first of all mixed some fox's blood to make the muzhiks fox-like; after that some wolf's blood to make them wolf-like; and, last of all, it is quite plain that you added swine's blood to make them like veritable swine."
"No," replied the little demon, "it was not so. All I did was to give the muzhik more corn than he knew what to do with. Bestial blood is present in every man, but so long as the man has barely enough bread to nourish him, it has no outlet. When he's like that, he does not even grieve over his last crust. But let him only have food over and above his needs, and he will at once begin thinking of enjoying himself. Now I taught him an enjoyment — drunkenness. And whenever he turns the gift of God into spirits for his enjoyment, the fox-blood, the wolf-blood, and the swine-blood within him rise at once to the surface. Henceforth a beast will he become every time he touches spirit."
And the chief of the devils commended the little demon, granted him his crust of bread, and raised him high in his service.
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