"I shall have to hazard something at that game," replied the Boy, "but
still I do not wish to be the cause of your meeting with misfortune;"
and, so saying, he took the rope into his own hand, and drove the pig
off quickly by a side-path, while Hans, lightened of his cares, walked
on homeward with the goose under his arm. "If I judge rightly," thought
he to himself, "I have gained even by this exchange: first there is a
good roast; then the quantity of fat which will drip out will make goose
broth for a quarter of a year; and then there are fine white feathers,
which, when once I have put into my pillow I warrant I shall sleep
without rocking. What pleasure my mother will have!"

As he came to the last village on his road there stood a Knife-grinder,
with his barrow by the hedge, whirling his wheel round and singing:

"Scissors and razors and such-like I grind;
And gaily my rags are flying behind."


Hans stopped and looked at him, and at last he said, "You appear to have
a good business, if I may judge by your merry song?"

"Yes," answered the Grinder, "this business has a golden bottom! A true
knife-grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his pocket
feels money in it! But what a fine goose you have got; where did you buy
it?"

"I did not buy it at all," said Hans, "but took it in exchange for my
pig." "And the pig?" "I exchanged for my cow." "And the cow?" "I
exchanged a horse for her." "And the horse?" "For him I gave a lump of
gold as big as my head." "And the gold?" "That was my wages for a seven