Foe seven years Hans had served his master and one day he said to him， “Master， my time is up. I want to go home to my mother. Give me my wages， please.”

　　The master replied， “You have worked true and honest. Your wages shall be as good as your service.” And he gave Hans a lump of gold as big as his head. Hans took a cloth， wrapped the gold in it， lifted it onto his shoulder and made off for home.

　　As he was walking along a rider came trotting by. “Oh，” sighed Hans quite loudly， “how nice it must be to ride a horse. You sit as though you're in a chair， you don't hurt your feet against stones， you save shoe leather and you get there faster， too.”

　　The rider heard what Hans said. He stopped and said gaily， “Hans， why do you walk？”

　　“I have to，” replied Hans. “I have to carry a lump of gold home. It's very heavy on my shoulder， and I can't keep my head straight！”

　　“Do you know what？ We could swap，” suggested the rider. “I give you my horse and you give me your gold.”

　　“Oh， gladly，” said Hans. “But I have to warn you. The gold is rather heavy！” The rider dismounted， took the gold and helped Hans onto the horse. He gave him the reins and said， “If you want to go faster， you must click your tongue and say， 'Hup， hup！'”

　　Hans was happy on his horse. Merrily he rode along. After a while he felt like going faster. So he clicked his tongue and said， “Hup， hup.” At once the horse started to gallop.

　　Before Hans knew what had happened， the horse had thrown him off and he landed rather painfully on the path. If a farmer hadn't been passing and caught the horse， it would have run away. “Riding is no fun，” said Hans. “A cow would be much more sensible！ You can walk behind it in peace， and you have milk， butter and cheese every day. Oh， it I only had a cow like yours！”

　　“You can have my cow for your horse，” said the farmer. Hans agreed， and the farmer swung himself onto the horse and quickly rode away. Hans drove the cow ahead of him. About midday it became hot and Hans thought， “I will milk my cow and quench my thirst.” He tied the cow to a tree， took a bucket and started to milk the cow. But as he was so clumsy the cow gave him a kick with her hind leg. Hans lay on the ground unconscious.

　　A butcher with a pig came along. He stopped and said to Hans， “This cow won't give you milk any more. She will only do for pulling a plough. If you like， I'll swap my pig for your cow.” Hans was relieved， 'thanked the farmer and continued walking home with the pig.

　　Soon afterwards he met a young man with a beautiful white goose under his arm. “You just try lifting my goose. Isn't it heavy？ He who roasts that one will have a feast！” boasted the young man.

　　Then he whispered into Hans's ear， “Be careful！ A pig has been stolen from the mayor of the next village. I'm afraid it's the one on your rope. It could become very difficult for you if they catch you！”

　　Hans became afraid. “Can't you help me？” he cried. “You know this area better than I do. Here， take my pig and give me your goose in return！”

　　“Oh well， I don't want to be guilty of bringing you bad luck！” replied the young man. He took the pig and drove it quickly on to a side track.

　　Hans took the goose under his arm and went towards his home. “That was a good deal，” he said to himself. “I have roast goose to start with， then I have goose dripping， and finally I have enough feathers for my pillow. My mother will be pleased！”

　　As he came through the last village he saw a knife-grinder who sang a merry song. Hans stopped and said， “You must be doing well to be so cheerful.”

　　If you are a good knife-grinder you earn good money！“ replied the man. ”But where did you buy that lovely goose？“ Hans told him of the wonderful deals.

　　“You should become a knife-grinder，” said the man， “and you won't have to worry any more. You only need a whetstone. I've got one here. It's only a little damaged， but you only need give me your goose for it.”

　　Hans agreed promptly and handed over the goose. The knife-grinder gave him the whetstone and said， “Take this stone as well， it's good for knocking old nails straight.” And he handed him an ordinary stone.

　　Happily Hans carried on. Soon the stones were weighing very heavily on his shoulders. Hans stopped at a well and laid the stones down on the edge. But when he drank he leaned against them， and - plop - they fell into the well. “I really am I luck，” cried Hans.

　　Free and unburdened he skipped home to his mother's house.

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