"
So the poor brother said he would do anything and was full of thanks.
"Well, here is the flitch," said the rich brother, "and now go straight
to Hell."
"What I have given my word to do, I must stick to," said the other; so
he took the flitch and set off. He walked the whole day, and at dusk he
came to a place where he saw a very bright light.
"Maybe this is the place," said the man to himself. So he turned aside,
and the first thing he saw was an old, old man, with a long white beard,
who stood in an outhouse, hewing wood for the Christmas fire.
"Good even," said the man with the flitch.
"The same to you; whither are you going so late?" said the man.
"Oh! I'm going to Hell, if I only knew the right way," answered the poor
man.
"Well, you're not far wrong, for this is Hell," said the old man; "when
you get inside they will be all for buying your flitch, for meat is
scarce in Hell; but, mind you don't sell it unless you get the
hand-quern which stands behind the door for it. When you come out, I'll
teach you how to handle the quern, for it's good to grind almost
anything."
So the man with the flitch thanked the other for his good advice, and
gave a great knock at the Devil's door.
When he got in, everything was just as the old man had said. All the
devils, great and small, came swarming up to him like ants round an
anthill, and each tried to outbid the other for the flitch.
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