Free Jack and the Devil's Purse by Duncan Williamson

art
.’
    ‘Ah, Mother, there’s nae such a thing as black art.’
    ‘Ah well,’ she said, ‘she got the blame o’ it. And folk was gaunnae burn her as a witch. She had to flee awa for her life!And now I’m getting kind of worried about this. She must be coming up in years. And that’s what I was gaunnae ask you, laddie. I ken you like your job with the butcher. But I would like . . . would ye do me a wee favour?’
    ‘Mother,’ he said, ‘you know I’ll do anything for you.’
    She said, ‘Ye ken I’m no bad off for money. You pay me well and I can manage myself. Would ye do your poor old mother a favour? Will ye gang and see your old auntie for me? And see how she’s getting on.’
    But Jack said, ‘Mother, how can I go and see somebody I’ve never met, someone I didna even ken existed till this day?’
    ‘Well, Jack, I didna want to tell you. I wanted to keep it secret from you because there’s many bad names about your old auntie. And I didna want you to grow up with the thought that there was any trouble in the family.’
    ‘Ah, but Mother, it’s my auntie, isn’t it? Your sister!’
    ‘Aye, Jack, it’s my sister. And she’s the same age as me, Jack. She’ll be seventy on her birthday and I’ve never seen her for forty years! And laddie, if you would gang and pay her a wee visit and tell her I’m all right, spend a wee time with her, come back and tell me how she’s getting on – it would make me awful happy.’
    ‘But, Mother, where does she stay?’
    ‘Oh, Jack, she stays a long way frae here, a long, long way frae here! Away to the end of the land. The farthest point of Ireland, Jack, that’s where she stays!’
    ‘Oh well, Mother,’ he said, ‘you ken it’s going to take me a long, long while and I cannae leave ye for as long as that.’
    ‘Laddie, I’ll be all right, Jack, when you’re on your way. I ken naething’ll happen to you. You go and see your old auntie and bring me back good news frae her. And if ever I die I’ll die happy.’
    So they sat and talked that night for a wee while. And Jack promised his mother he would go and see his old auntie. And this is where my story starts.
    The very next morning Jack and his mother were up early. She made him a little breakfast and she fried him a wee bit collop. She made him a wee bannock to carry him on his way.
    She says, ‘Be careful, laddie, on your way! It’ll maybe tak ye months, I dinnae ken. But it’ll maybe tak ye weeks. But remember, I’ll be always thinking about you. And may the best of luck gang with ye!’
    Jack bade goodbye to his mother and off he set. Oh, Jack travelled on, and on and on asking people questions along his way, doing a wee bit job for these people here, doing a wee bit job for people there. He was in nae hurry. And he travelled on and on till he came to a long weary road. There were not a house in sight. And then he came down this steep brae.
    There was a wee bridge crossing. He crossed the bridge and the first thing he saw was an old woman with a big bundle of sticks on her back. Oh, in the name of God, it was the biggest bundle Jack had ever seen an old woman carrying!
    And he said to himself, ‘How in the world can an old woman like that carry so many sticks on her back?’ And he put on the speed and stepped quicker. He overtook the old woman.
    He said, ‘Old woman, how could you carry such a big bundle as that?’
    ‘Ah,’ she says, ‘laddie, I’m carrying them but I’m getting really tired.’
    ‘Well,’ he said, ‘let me take a wee shot frae you. I’m going on your way. Have you far to gang?’
    ‘Aye,’ she says, ‘laddie, a wee bit yet.’
    ‘Well,’ he said, ‘let me carry your sticks for you!’
    And Jack being young and strong picked up the bundle and put it on his back. The old woman walked beside him and they travelled on for about a mile till they came to a wee thatched house by the roadside.
    She said, ‘Laddie, this is my house.’
    And Jack could see there