"You must mind the geese," said Asmund.
"That is wretched work, only fit for an idiot," Grettir answered.
"You do that properly," his father said, "and we shall get on better together."
So Grettir went to mind the geese. There were fifty of them, and a number of goslings. Before long he began to find them troublesome, and the goslings would not come on quickly enough. This put him out, for he could never control his temper. Soon afterwards some wanderers found the goslings lying outside dead, and the geese with their wings broken. This was in the autumn. Asmund was very much annoyed and asked Grettir whether he had killed the birds. Grettir grinned and answered:
"Always when winter is coming on
I like to wring the goslings' necks.
If among them there are geese
I treat the creatures all alike."
"You shan't twist any more of their necks," said Asmund.
"The friend aye warns his friend of ill," answered Grettir.
"I will give you other work to do."
"He knoweth most who most hath tried. But what am I to do now?" Grettir asked.
"You shall rub my back when I am sitting by the fire, as I am in the habit of having it done."