“Good-day,” said the man.
“Good-day,” said the lad.
“I am hungry,” said the gray man. “Have you not a bite and sup that you can share with me?”
“Food I have, and drink too,” said the lad, “but it is for myself, and not for you. It would be a simple thing for me to carry it this far just to give it to a beggar”; and he went on his way.
But it was bad luck the lad had that day. Scarcely had he begun chopping wood when the head of the ax flew off, and cut his foot so badly that he was obliged to go limping home, with not even so much as a fagot to carry with him.
The next day it was the second son who said he would go to the forest for wood.
“And see that you are more careful than your brother,” said his mother. Then she gave him a loaf of bread, and a bit of cheese, and a bottle of wine, and off he set.
Presently he came to the forest, and there, sitting in the same place where he had sat before, was the old gray man.
“Good-day,” said the man.
“Good-day,” said the lad.