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Today's story is called Stingy Jack and the First Jack-O-Lantern, an adaptation of the Irish folktale written for you by Daniel Hines.
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Enjoy the episode.
Stingy Jack and the First Jack-O-Lantern.
Once upon a time in the golden age of Irish pubs, there lived a con man named Jack.
He was greedy, a liar, and a cheat, and those were his good qualities.
He'd never worked an honest day in his life and was constantly looking for new scams and tricks to make a buck to buy his next drink.
He was a smooth talker, though, so he was often able to weasel his way out of trouble.
One night, Jack was set up at a new pub called The Crossroads, cheating at cards and raking in the coin.
To be clear, the Crossroads wasn't new.
In fact, it was one of the oldest pubs in Ireland.
It was new to Jack though, because he got caught hiding an ace up his sleeve in the last pub and was politely, with fists and a lot of pushing, asked to leave.
Three aces, Jack said, laying down his hand on the card table.
I win again.
The others at the table grumbled as Jack pulled in all their coins.
They knew he was cheating, but couldn't prove it.
So they all stood up and the game ended, with no one but Jack much happy about it.
He walked to the bar and sat down across from the bartender.
What would you like? the bartender asked.
Now, Jack had pockets full of coin from winning cards, but you didn't get the nickname Stingy Jack because you liked to spend your own money.
In fact, stingy meant that he hated to spend or give or share.
He only liked to take.
So when the bartender asked him what he wanted, he couldn't help but reply with one of his favorite scams.
I actually don't need you to serve me, he said.
I can drink from a bottle anywhere.
What are you on about? the bartender asked.
You're a fairy or something, magic folk?
Something like that, Jack said with a shrug.
Ah, you're a liar, said the bartender.
Get out of here with your tall tales and all that rubbish.
A liar, said Jack, pretending to be offended when he knew very well that he was a liar all the way through to the marrow of his bones.
I've never lied a day in my life, he said, which was, of course, a lie.
Sure, and I'm the king of the fae folk, said the bartender with a snort.
Why don't you just go on and get out of the pub?
No, I can prove it, said Jack.
Just put a pint on the bar here.
The bartender glared at him, but he got a pint of cider and set it down in front of Jack.
That'll cost if you drink it now.
Jack took the derby cap off his head and draped it over the glass, covering it up.
Now listen, if I can use my powers of guile and skill to drink up that pint without touching the hat, it's free.
If I fail, of course, I'll pay you the price of the pint, good sir.
Without touching the hat?
The bartender asked.
Can't be done.
You've got a deal.
Stingy Jack nodded and then looked hard at the hat.
His eyes narrowed, then opened wide, and then he gulped a big swallow.
Done, he said.
How in the world, the bartender said.
He grabbed the hat and lifted it off the pint, which was still full.
But before he could celebrate, Stingy Jack grabbed the pint and tossed it back with one long sip, swallowing every last drop of cider.
You cheat!
You didn't drink it with magic, shouted the bartender.
The bet was that I could drink it without touching the hat.
You lifted the hat for me, so I win the bet.
Thanks for the free drink.
Get out of my bar, the bartender said flatly.
Come on, how about I show you a card trick?
Double or nothing on the drink.
But the bartender was an old Irishman who'd seen it all and he knew a cheat when one walked up into his bar.
He grabbed Jack by the forearm and plucked the ace out of his sleeve.
We have a cheat!
Cheat!
We know it! called the people whom Jack had ripped off in the card game.
They stormed over and saw the ace, and then they grabbed old Stingy Jack and threw him out into the street.
And don't come back! they said, slamming the door.
Jack stood up and dusted himself off with a smile.
You might think being tossed out would dampen Jack's spirits, but he'd been tossed out of a hundred bars and he'd be tossed out of a hundred more.
It didn't matter.
He still had their money from the card game plus the cider, plus he had pickpocketed two of their wallets as they were throwing him out.
Stingy Jack walked down the street, pulling the cash out of the stolen wallets and then throwing the wallets themselves into a trash can as he passed.
Where to next? he asked himself.
He was in a big city, and there were plenty of marks to con.
He passed by a few other bars, but they were too quiet for his tastes.
Finally, he came upon a big Halloween party.
It was pouring out of a pub and into the street along the river.
People were in costumes, dancing and laughing and enjoying a carefree time.
A perfect place to lift a few wallets or run a few scams, Jack thought to himself.
He didn't have a costume, but he saw a vendor selling masks who was talking to a friend and stole a mask off the table as he passed.
It was a little red devil's face, and Jack smiled as he put it on and drifted into the crowd.
He roamed through making jokes and patting people on the back, making them laugh and smile as he passed, never guessing that Jack was stealing their purses and wallets as he went.
Once his own pockets were full to bursting with his stolen goods, Jack retreated from the party and sat on a little stone wall by the river.
He pulled out the wallets and purses, shucked out the cash and valuables, then threw the rest into the water.
He was just finishing up and had a fine haul of ill-gotten goods when all of a sudden there was a dark figure sitting next to him on the bench.
Hello, Jack, the man said.
Who are you?
Jack asked, scared to find someone so close and worried they saw him robbing the wallets.
Look a little closer, said the man, and he seemed to light up a little.
Jack looked and he saw the man was wearing a fine black suit with a black shirt and red tie.
His skin was red too, and when he turned to smile at Jack, his yellow cat eyes flashed.
A devil, Jack said.
The man laughed and Jack could see his teeth were white and straight and sharp.
He took off his hat and beneath it, Jack saw two black curling horns.
Not a devil, the man said.
The devil, actually.
He smiled again and blew out a cloud of hot, sulfurous smoke.
And sorry to say, but your time is up.
My time?
Yup, said the devil.
Your heart is going to stop in the next hour or so and since you've been such a wonderfully terrible person and thief, I'm here to bring you back to Hades, as it were.
Jack sighed.
He was getting older and never really cared to eat healthy or take care of himself at all, so this wasn't a shock.
Of course, the devil coming to see him personally was a little surprising, and he told him so.
Ah, but I heard you were one of the worst rogues in Ireland, the devil said.
I thought it would be a fun night to come and fetch you myself.
Sure, and that makes sense, said Jack, already spinning up another con in his head.
But before you take me down to the fiery deeps, let's say an old bum gets one more pint at the pub.
One last cider for the road.
The devil laughed and nodded.
Sure, you old rogue.
One more drink before the fire.
Now for a quick ad break.
We'll be back with the rest of the story after this.
If you'd like Stories Podcast and other favorite kid podcasts ad-free, subscribe to Wondery Plus Kids on Apple Podcasts.
Hi, Stories fans.
Pets are great, but have you ever tried putting a parakeet in your pocket or a cat in your backpack?
Spoiler alert, it won't go well.
But Nanimals are the perfect pals to play with on the go.
Nanimals are mini animal figures with heart meters that fill up the more you pet feed and move them.
They interact with you by making over 70 sounds and silly reactions.
And if you have more than one, Nanimals will interact with each other too.
You can connect them and swap their textured outfits to create different styles.
Nanimals are tactile and tiny, making them a great toy to fidget with on the go.
And since they come with a handy backpack clip, it's easy to take them anywhere.
Nanimals, collect and connect.
Together, they walked into the nearest pub and ordered two tall pints of cider.
They were so good and Jack had the devil laughing that they agreed on another and another.
Finally, though, it was time to go.
Oh devil, I plumb.
Forgot to bring any money, Jack said, patting his pockets like they weren't full of stolen cash.
Why don't you pay for the tab before we go?
I haven't got human money, said the devil.
Ah, but you can turn into anything, can't you?
And the devil nodded.
So turn into a silver coin and that'll cover our drinks, and then I'll walk out with you in my pocket.
What a great last con.
The devil laughed.
Jack was surely a bad guy, but he had to admire the audacity of the man.
With a wink, the devil turned himself into a silver dollar that clattered onto the bar.
Jack paid off their tab and then, when the bartender wasn't looking, stole back the coin and slid it into his pocket.
Also in the pocket was the silver cross he always kept.
He wasn't a religious man himself, but he found pretending to be one could oftentimes get him out of trouble.
He walked out to a quiet part of the street and pulled out the devil's silver coin along with the cross, making sure to keep them touching.
You rogue, shouted the devil, his voice coming from the coin.
You've trapped me in this shape with the Lord's cross.
You're a scoundrel if there ever was one.
Jack laughed and shook his head.
I'll set you free, devil, sure, but you've got to make me a promise.
Aye, what is it, you black-hearted sinner?
You can't take me back with you to Hades.
You have to let me go free to heaven.
No, shouted the devil coin.
You're a bad guy and you belong with me.
Then you can stay a coin forever, said Jack, sliding the devil back into his pocket.
Wait, wait, fine, it's a deal.
You're not coming with me and in fact, you aren't welcome down below.
Now set me free, you've got my promise.
Jack smiled at having conned the devil.
He took out the devil's silver dollar and flicked it away from the cross.
As it spun in the air, it shifted and it was the devil with his red leather skin and black horns that landed on his feet.
Goodbye, Jack, he said, and good luck.
And with that, the devil disappeared and old Stingy Jack passed away.
Now being such a terrible thief and liar and all-around rogue.
Like the devil said, Stingy Jack really didn't deserve heaven.
In fact, if he was allowed in, his first plan was to try and steal one of the pearly gates.
He figured they must be worth a fortune.
Well, St.
Peter, who guards the gates of heaven, took one look at Stingy Jack and then unrolled a scroll.
It rolled down his arms and past his legs and onto the floor and kept going past Jack and down the heavenly stairs behind him.
What's that? asked Jack.
Ah, the list of your sins, said St.
Peter, reading down the list.
Theft, petty theft, grand theft.
Impersonating the Pope stealing toys from an orphanage at Christmas.
If it makes any difference, I was really bored at that time.
You are one of the worst sinners I've ever seen, said St.
Peter, shaking his head.
None of these are the worst crimes, but there are just so many.
Did you ever do something honest a single day in your life?
Uh... Jack racked his brain for a single truth or day of hard work and came up lacking.
I think I swept a floor once.
You stole the broom, Peter said back.
Forgot about that, Jack said, rubbing his neck.
Well, clearly you aren't heaven material, said St.
Peter.
Good luck.
You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here.
And with that the ground under Jack's feet dissolved and he plummeted down down, down towards the great below.
And when he landed at the doors of Hades with all their fires raging, the devil met him there.
Sorry, Jack, he said, but you aren't welcome down here.
A deal is a deal.
Not welcome in heaven or Hades, Jack looked around at the great dark roads of the spirit realm.
The roads he would have to walk to find a place for himself.
They were inky black and twisting like a maze.
All right, then, said Jack.
Best be going, then.
At that, the devil felt a moment of sympathy for old Stingy Jack.
After all, who was a bigger rogue than the devil?
Here, he said.
He reached back into the fires behind him and pulled out a coal burning a deep and fiery red.
To light your way.
Jack reached out for the coal, but it was too hot and he couldn't get his hand close.
Aha, one second, said the devil.
He snapped his fingers and a pumpkin appeared with a monstrous face carved into the front.
The devil popped the ember into the pumpkin and handed it to Jack.
Jack held it by the curling stem like a lantern.
This will light your way, said the devil.
Just don't come back.
And with that, the devil slammed the fiery gates in Jack's face.
Well, I guess I better get walking then, said Jack.
He took his pumpkin lantern and wandered into the roads between the worlds.
He's still wandering there now, his lantern lighting the lonely dark.
But now he's found a purpose, and a nicer one he had than when he was alive.
Old Jack uses his lantern to guide lost souls now, helping them find their way through the maze-like roads of the afterlife.
And if he helps enough people, maybe one day it'll be enough to balance his bad deeds and St.
Peter will reconsider.
But in the meantime, Jack does his best, and every year at Halloween we all make pumpkin lanterns too, called jack-o'-lanterns in his honor, to help guide all the lost spirits home.
So this year, when you're carving a pumpkin or see a particularly wonderful jack-o'-lantern, spare a thought for old Stingy Jack, the rogue of Ireland.
The End Today's story, Stingy Jack and the First Jack-o'-Lantern, was an adaptation of a classic Irish folktale written for you by Daniel Hines.
It was edited and produced by Ellie Hines and performed for you by me, Amanda Weldon.
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