“Well,” said he, “you have hit on a first-rate drink, and have quite made up for your blunder about the bread. But now tell me how this drink is made. You must first have put in fox’s blood: that was what made the peasants sly as foxes. Then, I suppose, you added wolf’s blood: that is what made them fierce like wolves. And you must have finished off with swine’s blood, to make them behave like swine.”

“No,” said the imp, “that was not the way I did it. All I did was to see that the peasant had more corn than he needed. The blood of the beasts is always in man; but as long as he has only enough corn for his needs, it is kept in bounds. While that was the case, the peasant did not grudge his last crust. But when he had corn left over, he looked for ways of getting pleasure out of it. And I showed him a pleasure⁠—drinking! And when he began to turn God’s good gifts into spirits for his own pleasure⁠—the fox’s, wolf’s and swine’s blood in him all came out. If only he goes on drinking, he will always be a beast!”

The Devil praised the imp, forgave him for his former blunder, and advanced him to a post of high honour.