The Three Billy Goats Gruff

Once upon a time there were three goats, and all three were called Gruff. There was Little Gruff, there was Middle Gruff, and there was Big Gruff. Big Gruff had horns curled like two big pretzels, and hooves as hard as stones.

Down in the valley, the goats had already nibbled all the grass. But up on the mountain, across the river, the grass was green, green, green and juicy, juicy, juicy. There was only one problem: to get there, you had to cross a wooden bridge.

And under the bridge lived a troll. His eyes were as big as two dinner plates, his nose was like a rolling pin, and he was always hungry.

Little Gruff went first. Trip-trap, trip-trap went his little hooves on the bridge.

“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?” roared the troll from under the bridge.

“It’s me, Little Gruff,” squeaked the goat. “I’m going up the mountain to eat some grass.”

“Then I’m going to gobble you up!” growled the troll.

“Oh, please don’t eat me, I’m so small,” said Little Gruff. “Wait a little. My brother, Middle Gruff, is coming after me. He’s much bigger.”

The troll scratched his nose.

“Oh, all right. Off you go.”

And Little Gruff — hop, hop! — ran across to the other side.

A little later, Middle Gruff set off. Clip-clop, clip-clop went his hooves on the bridge.

“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?” roared the troll.

“It’s me, Middle Gruff,” answered the goat, his voice all a-tremble. “I’m going up the mountain to eat some grass.”

“Then I’m going to gobble you up!”

“Oh, please don’t eat me. My brother, Big Gruff, is coming after me. He’s ever so big!”

The troll licked his lips.

“Oh, all right, off you go. I’ll wait for the big one.”

And Middle Gruff — hop, hop! — ran across to the other side.

Then along came Big Gruff. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! The bridge creaked and swayed.

“WHO’S THAT TRIPPING OVER MY BRIDGE?” roared the troll.

“It’s me, Big Gruff!” boomed the goat.

“Then I’m going to gobble you up!” And the troll climbed up onto the bridge.

“Well then, come and try,” said Big Gruff. “I have two horns, curled like pretzels, and four hooves, hard as stones!”

He lowered his head, took a run-up — and BAM, he butted the troll with his horns! The troll flipped over the railing and — splash! — into the river. The water caught him and carried him far, far away, all the way past the mountain. All you could hear was him snorting and spluttering.

And the three goats Gruff grazed on the mountain all summer long. They ate so much grass that they could barely walk home, round as little barrels.

As for the troll, they say he is still floating somewhere, grumbling:

“I should have gobbled up the little one…”