Once on a time there were three billy goats that were going to the mountains to get fat. On the way they had to pass over a bridge that led across waterfalls, and under the bridge lived a great ugly troll, with eyes as big as pewter plates and a nose as long as a rake handle. First came the youngest bushy billy goat and wanted to cross the bridge. "Trip, trap; trip, trap!" went the bridge. "Who’s that tripping over my bridge" roared the troll. "Oh, it’s only I, the smallest bushy billy-goat; and I’m going up to the mountains to make myself fat," said the billy goat with such a small voice. "Now, I’m coming for you," said the troll. "Oh no, please don’t take me. I’m too little, that I am," said the billy-goat; "wait a bit till the second bushy billy-goat comes; he’s much bigger." "Then scamper," said the troll. A little while after came the second bushy billy goat and wanted to cross the bridge. "TRIP, TRAP! TRIP, TRAP!" went the bridge. "Who’s that tripping over my bridge?" roared the troll. "Oh, it’s the second bushy billy-goat who is going to the mountains to get fat," said the billy goat, who hadn’t quite such a small voice. "Now, I’m coming for you," said the troll.