The Honest Woodcutter

Once upon a time, at the edge of a great green forest, there lived a woodcutter.

He was a poor man. His house had one room, his coat had three patches, and he owned just one thing of real value: an old iron axe with a wooden handle, worn smooth by his hands.

Every morning he walked into the forest, cut wood until the sun was high, and carried it to the village to sell. It was hard work, but he whistled while he did it.

Splash!

One day he was cutting a tree beside a deep, wide river. The water was dark green and very still.

He swung his axe. Chop. He swung it again. Chop. His arms were tired, and his hands were wet with sweat. On the third swing, the axe slipped right out of his fingers.

It spun through the air, turning over and over, and fell into the river with a great splash!

The woodcutter ran to the edge. He saw a few bubbles, and then nothing at all. The river was far too deep to reach the bottom.

He sat down on the bank and put his head in his hands.

"Oh, my axe," he said sadly. "My only axe. How will I cut wood now? How will I feed my family?"

The stranger in the river

Just then, the water began to shimmer. Out of the river rose a tall stranger, with a kind face and little wings on his cap. It was Mercury, the messenger of the gods.

"Why are you so sad, woodcutter?" he asked.

The woodcutter told him all about the slippery handle and the splash.

"Wait here," said Mercury. And he dived down into the deep green water.

In a moment he came up again. In his hand was an axe made of pure gold. It glittered so brightly that the woodcutter had to blink.

"Is this your axe?" asked Mercury.

The woodcutter looked at it for a long time. A golden axe! He could buy a new house with an axe like that. He could buy a hundred new coats.

But he shook his head. "No," he said. "That is not mine."

Silver, and then iron

Mercury dived down again. This time he came up with an axe made of shining silver.

"Is this your axe, then?" he asked.

"No," said the woodcutter. "That is not mine either."

Down went Mercury a third time. When he came up, he was holding a plain old iron axe with a wooden handle, worn smooth.

The woodcutter jumped to his feet. "Yes! That's it! That's my axe!" he cried. "Thank you, thank you!"

Mercury smiled a wide, warm smile.

"You could have said yes to the gold," he said. "You could have said yes to the silver. But you told the truth. So you shall keep all three."

And he gave the woodcutter the iron axe, the silver axe and the golden axe. Then he sank back into the river, and the water was still again.

The greedy neighbour

The woodcutter hurried home and told everyone in the village what had happened.

His neighbour listened with his eyes growing bigger and bigger. A golden axe, he thought. Just for dropping an axe in a river!

The very next morning, the neighbour went to the same river. He did not chop any wood. He just threw his axe into the water, splash!, and sat down and pretended to cry.

"Boo-hoo," he wailed. "My axe, my poor axe!"

Up rose Mercury from the water. "What is the matter?" he asked.

"I've lost my axe," said the neighbour.

Mercury dived down and came up holding a golden axe. "Is this the one?"

"Yes! Yes! That's mine!" shouted the neighbour, and he reached out to grab it.

But Mercury pulled it away.

"That is not true," he said quietly. And he sank back into the river with the golden axe, and he did not bring back the neighbour's own axe either.

The neighbour walked home with nothing at all. He had to borrow an axe for a whole month, and he felt very silly every time he did.

About this story

This fable is credited to Aesop, the famous storyteller of ancient Greece, and it has been told all over the world. In many Indian homes it is told with a kind river goddess in place of Mercury, but the lesson is always the same: honesty is the best treasure. This version is a shortened, simplified retelling.