'Another day!' cried out the poor colonel.
'Not a quarther,' says the divil, grinnin' with a bitther laugh; 'give over your reading I bid you,' says he, 'and come away wid me.'
'Lave aff your palaverin' you snakin' owld sinner,' says Sat'n; 'you know you're bought and sould to me, and a purty bargain I have o' you, you owld baste,' says he; 'so come along at wanst,' and he put out his claw to ketch him; but the colonel tuk a fast hould o' the Bible, and begged hard that he'd let him alone, and wouldn't harm him antil the bit o' candle that was just blinkin' in the socket before him was burned out.
'Well, have it so, you dirty coward,' says Owld Nick, and with that he spit an him.
But the poor owld colonel didn't lose a minit (for he was cunnin' to the ind), but snatched the little taste o' candle that was forninst him out o' the candlestick, and puttin' it an the Holy Book before him, he shut down the cover of it and quinched the light. With that the divil gave a roar like a bull, and vanished in a flash o' fire, and the poor colonel fainted away in his chair; but the sarvants heerd the noise (for the divil tore aff the roof o' the house when he left it), and run into the room, and brought their master to himself agin. And from that day he was an althered man, and used to have the Bible read to him every day, for he couldn't read himself any more, by raison of losin' his eyesight when the divil hit him with the rope of sand in the face, and afther spit an him--for the sand wint into one eye, and he lost the other that-a-way, savin' your presence.
Of all the different kinds of goblins that haunted the lonely places of Ireland in days of old, air-demons were most dreaded by the people. They lived among clouds, and mists, and rocks, and they hated the human race with the utmost malignity. In those times lived in the north of Desmond (the present county of Cork) a man man named Fergus O'Mara. His farm lay on the southern slope of the Ballyhoura Mountains, along which ran the open road that led to his house. This road was not shut in by walls or fences; but on both sides there were scattered trees and bushes that sheltered it in winter, and made it dark and gloomy when you approached the house at night. Beside the road, a little way off from the house, there was a spot that had an evil name all over the country, a little hill covered closely with copsewood, with a great craggy rock on top, from which, on stormy nights, strange and fearful sounds had often been heard--shrill voices, and screams, mingled with loud fiendish laughter; and the people believed that it was the haunt of air-demons. In some way it had become known that these demons had an eye on Fergus, and watched for every opportunity to get him into their power. He had himself been warned of this many years before, by an old monk from the neighbouring monastery of Buttevant, who told him, moreover, that so long as he led a blameless, upright life, he need have no fear of the demons; but that if ever he yielded to temptation or fell into any great sin, then would come the opportunity for which they were watching day and night. He never forgot this warning, and he was very careful to keep himself straight, both because he was naturally a good man, and for fear of the air-demons.