The old Devil stood on the top of the tower yet another day, talking away. People came near, looked on for awhile, and then went away.
And Iván asked, “Well, has the gentleman begun to work with his head yet?”
“Not yet,” said the people; “he’s still spouting away.”
The old Devil stood on the tower one day more, but he began to grow weak, so that he staggered and hit his head against one of the pillars of the lantern. One of the people noticed it and told Iván’s wife, and she ran to her husband, who was in the field.
“Come and look,” said she. “They say the gentleman is beginning to work with his head.”
Iván was surprised.
“Really?” says he, and he turned his horse round, and went to the tower. And by the time he reached the tower the old Devil was quite exhausted with hunger, and was staggering and knocking his head against the pillars. And just as Iván arrived at the tower, the Devil stumbled, fell, and came bump, bump, bump, straight down the stairs to the bottom, counting each step with a knock of his head!
“Well!” says Iván, “the fine gentleman told the truth when he said that ‘sometimes one’s head quite splits.’ This is worse than blisters; after such work there will be swellings on the head.”
The old Devil tumbled out at the foot of the stairs, and struck his head against the ground. Iván was about to go up to him to see how much work he had done—when suddenly the earth opened and the old Devil fell through. Only a hole was left.
Iván scratched his head.