"No," answered the woodman, "that is not my ax. All the money I
ever earned would not buy such an ax as that."

"I found another," said the man. "This must be the one," and he
held out a silver ax.

"No, that is not mine," replied the woodman. "I am too poor a man
to own such an ax as that."

"Well, here is another ax that I found. Is this yours?" The
stranger held out an old ax of steel.

"That is mine, oh, that is mine!" cried the woodman, springing up
joyously and taking his ax from the stranger. "Now we shall not
starve. Thank you, kind sir. Where did you find it?"

The stranger said, "All three of the axes are yours. I am glad to
make you a present of the gold ax and the silver ax. Let me have
your hand. I am happy to meet an honest man."

The woodman's neighbors heard of his good fortune. One of them
lost his ax. He appeared to feel very sad over his loss. He sat
down by the roadside and bowed his head, looking out of the
corners of his eyes for the stranger.

At last he saw the stranger coming around a bend in the road. The
sun shown upon a gold ax which he carried in his hand. He stopped
in front of the woodman. "Why do you grieve, my friend?" he asked.