The Three Goats and the Bridge

On a green hillside lived three goats: the youngest, the middle-sized goat and the largest goat. Across a rushing stream was a bright meadow where fresh grass grew. A narrow wooden bridge was the only way to reach it. The youngest goat went first. Trip-trap, trip-trap went his hooves on the bridge. A troll popped up from beneath it. “Who’s crossing my bridge?” he grumbled. “It’s only me,” said the goat. “I’m going to the meadow. Please let me pass.” The troll was about to reach for the goat when the middle-sized goat called from behind. “Wait! I’m bigger and much tastier!” The youngest goat hurried safely across. The troll turned to wait for the middle-sized goat. Soon, the middle-sized goat began to cross. Trip-trap, trip-trap! The troll sprang up again. “Who’s crossing my bridge?” “It’s me,” he replied. “But the largest goat is coming after me. He’s much bigger than I am!” The middle-sized goat dashed across, and the troll waited for the largest goat. At last, the largest goat stepped onto the bridge. The troll jumped out. The goat lowered his strong horns and stamped his hooves. The troll was so frightened that he ran away and never came back. All three goats crossed to the meadow. They ate the fresh grass together under the warm sun. From then on, they could cross the bridge whenever they liked.

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