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 hind legs, and taking the devil in his arms hugged him until the devil thought his bones would all be crushed. It was as much as the devil could do to escape with his life.

“Oh, my poor ribs! My poor ribs!” he gasped when he was safely back in hell. “He’s a terrible man—that farmer! Why, even his old grandfather is so strong that I thought he’d squeeze me to death!”

But when he had told his full story the other devils laughed at him louder than before and told him that the farmer had again fooled him.

“You’ve got to try another match with him,” they said. “This time dare him to a foot race and mind you don’t let him fool you.”

So in a day or two when the soreness was gone from his bones the devil went back to earth and dared the farmer to run a foot race with him.

“Certainly,” the farmer said, “but it’s hardly fair to let you run against me because I go like the wind. I tell you what I’ll do: I’ll let you race with my small son. He’s only a year old and perhaps you can beat him.”

The devil—I never knew a more stupid fellow in my life!—agreed to this and the farmer took him out