The Three Billy Goats Gruff

Tale from Norway.

Once upon a time there were three goats who were going to the meadow and eating their fat. All three were called The Three Billy Goats Gruff. On the way there was a bridge over a rapid, which they had to cross, and under that bridge lived a nasty troll with eyes like tin plates and a nose as long as a fox's shaft.

First came the youngest goat Gruff and was about to cross the bridge. Tripp, tripp, tripp, it sounded in the bridge. "Who is tripping on my bridge?" shouted the troll. "It's the smallest goat Gruff. I'm going to the meadow and get fat," said the goat in his bright voice. "Now I'll come and take you!" said the troll. "Oh, no, don't take me, because I'm so small. Wait a bit, and the middle goat Gruff will come. He's much bigger!" "Drive on, then," said the troll.

After a little while, the middle goat Gruff came. Tripp, tripp, tripp, tripp, it sounded in the bridge. "Who is stepping on my bridge?" shouted the troll. "It is only the middle goat Gruff, who is going to the meadow and getting fat," said the goat in his rather powerful voice. "Then I'll come and get you!" shouted the troll. "Oh no, don't take me! Wait a little, and the big goat Gruff will come, he's much, much bigger!". "Let go," said the troll impatiently.

Just as it was, the big goat Gruff came. Tripp, tripp, tripp, tripp, tripp, tripp, it sounded in the bridge. That trestle was so heavy that it creaked and creaked in the bridge. "Who's clawing at my bridge?" shouted the troll. "It is the great goat Gruff," said the goat in his booming voice. "Then it's you I've been waiting for and now I'm coming to get you!" shouted the troll. "Yes, just come!", said the goat. And then he rushed at the troll and pushed it so hard that it went far away and down the river. And thanks to that, all three were able to go to the meadow. There the goats got so fat, so fat, that they could hardly bear to go home again. And if the fat hasn't fallen off them, they're probably still fat.