Dancin' With The Devil! ...

Grandpa and Grandma DooLittle had just finished eating supper, so while Grandma was busy cleaning up the mess, Grandpa decided to ease on out to the barn and "sample" a bit of his homemade, hard apple cider that he kept hidden between a big pile of straw and stacks of baled hay ... he found one of his jugs, removed the cork and drizzled a stream of the delicious concoction onto his eager taste buds and down his gullet ... "across my teeth and past my gums, look out belly here it comes!" ... oh that stuff was good, and the more he "sampled" it the better it tasted, no sense stopping now ... so before Grandpa realized it, he was starting to feel his oats ... his ears began to ring ... his face heated up, and sweat began popping out all over his body 'till his clothes were drenched ... his eyes got blurry and his head went "round the bend" ... so he corked up his jug and sat down for a little spell.

The next thing Grandpa knew, an enormous, dark figure stood before him as pitch black as midnight at the height of a new moon ... his sinister eyes glowing like hot coals in a raging blast furnace ... long, pointed tail ... sharp, curved horns protruding from his wrinkled forehead ... a sizzling poker in one hand, a four-pronged pitchfork in the other ... when he spoke, a thick vapor of vile smoke spewed into the evening air ... "Old man! ... Old man!! ... why are you drinking from my jug?" ... poor ol' Grandpa DooLittle was nearly speechless, but managed to ask the beast his name ... "Why I'm Lucifer! ... and you've been sipping from my jug ... you owe me old man ... and now you must pay!" ... "but how?" begged Grandpa as the Devil roared in hideous laughter ... "Why you'll dance with me old man, you'll barn dance ...and if you don't dance, and dance well ... you'll go with me, you'll go with me back to Hell! ... now rise to your feet and follow along!"

Grandpa slowly stood up and began to dance as best he could, and as Lucifer called out the dance he took turns poking the piteous, old drunkard in the gut with that blistering poker and cracking him over the head with the pitchfork handle ... "dance old man ... faster, dance faster ... if you want to avoid your fate, get yourself straight ... better not wait, best not be late ...swing your partner, swing me hard ... allemande left in your own barnyard ... right and left all around that hay ... meet your partner, meet me halfway ... keep on dancin' 'till the break of day ... swing that jug way up high,swing that jug way down low ... now turn that jug loose, and I'll let you go! ... now you're straight ... you're free to go and do-si-do ... stay out of my jug ... if you want to stay out of my Hell! ... Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa!!!"

Grandpa DooLittle woke up lying face down in the middle of that big heap of straw shaking all over like a leaf in a wind storm, still clutching his now empty cider jug in his trembling hand ... his head was throbbing something awful, and his stomach burned like fire ... he sat up and looked all around, then cautiously called out "Lucifer ... where are you Lucifer?" ... but there was no reply ... nobody else was there ... just Bessie the milk cow chewing her cud as she stared at him in a state of wonderment ... as soon as Grandpa was certain Satan had gone, he sprang to his feet, slammed that jug against his big iron anvil shattering it to pieces, then ran like a scalded rabbit toward the house ... by this time Grandma DooLittle had gone to bed, knowing that Grandpa was most likely outside sipping on those spirits ... he tried to sneak into the bedroom, but Grandma was wide awake and waiting for him as usual ... "where've you been old man, you've been gone for hours?" she inquired ... "oh, I just went for a walk out by the barn, that good supper made be sleepy, so I took me a nap in the hay" he said ... Grandma knew all the while where he'd been and what he'd been doing and so replied "Sure you did! ... but if you don't quit your lying, and stop drinking that cider ... one day you'll end up dancin' with the Devil!"

--sja

Joe ...

Every now and then I like to dust off and republish one of my older posts ... such is the case with "Joe And The Old Man" ... some comments are from an earlier posting ...

Just after first light each morning, the debile old man would slip on a woolen pea jacket, cover his snow-white head with a threadbare Filson Duckbill cap, then he and a dog named Joe would exit their cozy abode to set forth on a briskish jaunt ... they would unhurriedly amble alongside a roughhewn, split rail fence bordering the meadow ... around the slimy, farm pond ... then wind their way back toward the little bungalow through a dense stand of spruce pine and spurge laurel ... at times a bracing, mountain breeze intermingling with wafting scents of evergreens and wildflowers yielded an invigorating redolence ... Joe never wandered far from the old man's heels, always trailing along so closely behind that his curious, wet nose often brushed against the back of his master's trouser legs as he proudly wagged his tail ... the aged gentleman had lost his beloved wife of nearly forty years to a stroke about two decades before, and he reckoned that Joe was the best friend he had ever known ... his sole companion for the past nine years ... the shivering and frightened dog turned up on the porch one cold, rainy evening ... two whole days passed before the piteous, half-starved stray dared approach the kind looking stranger who had been offering homemade biscuits soaked in warm bacon grease ... eventually the hungry pooch could no longer resist and ravenously gulped down the irresistible morsels ... the pair had been inseparable pals ever since ...

This particular morning, as they embarked on their usual stroll they were greeted by a dark, overcast sky, and a glistening layer of ice had covered everything in sight during the previous night ... as they approached the pond the old man carefully placed each of his steps as he walked on the slippery embankment ... suddenly the soles of his worn boots lost traction causing him to slam painfully onto the hard, frozen ground as he helplessly grasped for the sparse undergrowth before sliding into the frigid water ... in a matter of seconds the lethal cold stripped all life from his body and he was gone ... the now panic-stricken Joe began to woefully howl as he realized his master had fallen into the icy pond ... without hesitation, the loyal dog desperately leaped into the deadly water and swam around frantically searching for his dear master until all strength had drained from his exhausted body ... then he too succumbed to the cold as he disappeared beneath the surface of the pool ...

Instantly the old fellow found himself trudging along an unfamiliar and seemingly endless path with towering walls to each side ... ol' Joe still at his heels sniffing the ground as they walked along ... finally the duo came upon a very wide gate with an extremely determined looking gatekeeper standing its guard ..."enter weary traveler!" the doorman cried "we've been expecting you" he added ... the old man stretched out his neck and squinted his eyes as he peered in through the enormous gate ... therein the sun shone like a jasper stone upon what appeared to be a beautiful city made of pure gold ... lying foursquare ... having twelve foundations garnished with all manner of precious stones ... twelve gates all told, made of pearls upon its walls ... and streets made of solid gold transparent as glass ... the old man had heard stories of a place such as this, but was never sure if those stories were true ... he hurried through the gate expecting Joe to follow at his heels, only to glance back and see his best friend being forcefully restrained by the stern gatekeeper just outside the gate ... "dogs are not allowed within this gate!" declared the furious doorman ... "but is this not Heaven?" insisted the old man ... "of course it is, but dogs are never permitted within!" exclaimed the irate gatekeeper ... the old man retreated back outside the gate and snatched the now snarling Joe from the firm grasp of the heartless sentry, then proceeded on up that long way ... "don't you want to enter in? ... if you go away now, you shall never again be allowed entrance through this gate!" screamed the now disappointed doorman ... "anyplace where Joe ain't welcome, ain't Heaven!" replied the angry, old man ...

The exhausted pair continued to make their way along that forever lane 'till the old man grew so tired and discouraged he thought he might plod no further ... just then, they came upon another gate much narrower than the first, with a much kinder looking keeper standing its guard ... "welcome weary travelers, enter ye in to the joys of our Lord, we've been expecting you!" the doorman graciously said ... "but is this really Heaven? ... and is Joe permitted within?" begged the old man ... "why yes, this most assuredly is Heaven, and Joe is indeed welcome within! ... why do you so enquire?" replied the curious sentry ... "he at the first gate also invited me to enter within, but not Joe ... and he too proclaimed that to be Heaven ... how can I now trust one such as you?" protested the old man ... "oh no, that was certainly not Heaven ... 'twas no less than that beguiling deceiver enticing thee to enter within the gates of hell! ... for wide is that gate, and broad is that way which leadeth to destruction ... any many there be which go in thereat!" exclaimed the gatekeeper ... "enter ye in at this straight and narrow gate ... you and Joe!" he then uttered ... the old man cautiously stepped forward through the gate with Joe ... his curious, wet nose brushing against the back of his master's trouser legs as they slowly ambled alongside a roughhewn, split rail fence bordering a meadow ... around a slimy, farm pond ... then through a dense stand of spruce pine and spurge laurel ... as a bracing, mountain breeze intermingling with wafting scents of evergreens and wildflowers yielded an invigorating redolence ... "well I reckon this must truly be Heaven ol' friend!" the old man declared ... as Joe proudly wagged his tail ..

"Because straight is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it" ... Matthew 7:14


--sja