"It will be running some risk," answered the man, "but I will do it sooner than that you should come to grief." And so, taking the cord in his hand, he drove the pig quickly along a by-path, and lucky Hans went on his way home with the goose under his arm. "The more I think of it," said he to himself, "the better the bargain seems; first I get the roast goose; then the fat; that will last a whole year for bread and dripping; and lastly the beautiful white feathers which I can stuff my pillow with; how comfortably I shall sleep upon it, and how pleased my mother will be!" And when he reached the last village, he saw a knife-grinder with his barrow; and his wheel went whirring round, and he sang, "My scissors I grind, and my wheel I turn; And all good fellows my trade should learn, For all that I meet with just serves my turn." And Hans stood and looked at him; and at last he spoke to him and said, "You seem very well off, and merry with your grinding." "Yes," answered the knife-grinder, "my handiwork pays very well. I call a man a good grinder who, every time he puts his hand in his pocket finds money there. But where did you buy that fine goose?" "I did not buy it, but I exchanged it for my pig," said Hans. "And the pig?" "That I exchanged for a cow." "And the cow?" "That I exchanged for a horse." "And the horse?" "I gave for the horse a lump of gold as big as my head." "And the gold?" "Oh, that was my wage for seven years' service." "You seem to have fended for yourself very well," said the knife-grinder. "Now, if you could but manage to have money in your pocket every time you put your hand in, your fortune is made." "How shall I manage that?" said Hans. "You must be a knife-grinder like me," said the man. "All you want is a grindstone, the rest comes of itself: I have one here; to be sure it is a little damaged, but I don't mind letting you have it in exchange for your goose; what say you?" "How can you ask?" answered Hans. "I shall be the luckiest fellow in the world, for if I find money whenever I put my hand in my pocket, there is nothing more left to want." And so he handed over the goose to the pedlar and received the grindstone in exchange. "Now," said the knife-grinder, taking up a heavy common stone that lay near him, "here is another proper sort of stone that will stand a good deal of wear and that you can hammer out your old nails upon. Take it with you, and carry it carefully." Hans lifted up the stone and carried it off with a contented mind. "I must have been born under a lucky star!" cried he, while his eyes sparkled for joy. "I have only to wish for a thing and it is mine."