With each advancing year the poor woodcutter's burdens grew heavier and heavier.
At last, one day he was carrying a heavy load of wood on his back. As he trudged wearily along the road he suddenly grew weak and dizzy. He let the burden down and cried bitterly,
"O Death, release me from this terrible existence."
The words were no sooner spoken when the Angel of Death appeared.
"You called me?" asked the sinister figure.
Astonished and frightened beyond imagination, the woodcutter stammered,
"Yes, Excellency ... your honor ... would you mind, er ... helping me get this bundle back on my shoulders?"