On the last day of his seven years Billy was penniless, and he went to the taproom of his favourite inn, which was full.
“Well, boys,” said Billy, “we must have some money to-night. I’ll treat you, and give you a pound each,” and rising, he placed his tumbler in the middle of the table, and wished for twenty pounds. No sooner had he wished than a ball of fire came through the ceiling, and the twenty sovereigns fell into the tumbler. Everyone was taken aback, and there was a noise as if a bomb had burst, and the fireball disappeared, and rolled down the garden path, the landlord following it. After this they each drank what they liked, and Billy gave them a sovereign apiece before he went home.
The next morning he was in his smithy making a pair of horseshoes, when the devil came in and said:
“Well, Billy, I’ll want you this morning.”
“Yes; all right. Take hold of this sledge-hammer, and give me a few hammers till I finish this job before I go.”
So the devil seized the hammer and began striking the anvil, but he couldn’t stop.
So Billy laughed, and locked him in, and was away three days. During this time the people collected round the smithy, and peeped through the cracks in the shutter, for they could hear the hammer going night and day.
At the end of three days Billy returned and opened the door, and the devil said, “Oh, Billy, you’ve played a fine trick to me; let me go.”
“What are you going to give me if I let you go?”
“Seven years more, twice the money, and two days’ grace for wishing for what you like.”