The Story
Once upon a time, in a green and rocky valley, there lived three billy goats who shared the name Gruff. There was the Little Billy Goat Gruff, the Middle Billy Goat Gruff, and the Great Big Billy Goat Gruff — and they were brothers, each one bigger and stronger than the last.
Now, the meadows on their side of the valley had grown thin and brown, and across a swift-running stream there stretched a hillside so lush and green that the very sight of it made the goats' mouths water. To reach it, they had to cross a wooden bridge — and under that bridge lived a terrible troll, with eyes as large as saucers and a nose as long as a poker. He was hideous to behold, and he jealously guarded his bridge against all who tried to cross.
One morning, the Little Billy Goat Gruff trotted toward the bridge. His small hooves went trip-trap, trip-trap across the wooden planks.
"Who's that trip-trapping over my bridge?" roared the troll, rearing up from beneath.
"It is only I, the Little Billy Goat Gruff," said the smallest brother in a thin, small voice. "I'm going to the hillside to make myself fat."
"Oh no you're not!" bellowed the troll. "I'm going to eat you up!"
"Oh, please don't do that," said the little goat. "Wait for my brother — he's much bigger than I am and would make a far better meal."
The troll grumbled and grumbled, but he let the little goat pass.
Before long, the Middle Billy Goat Gruff came trotting to the bridge. His hooves went trip-trap, trip-trap, trip-trap — louder and heavier than his small brother's.
"Who's that trip-trapping over my bridge?" roared the troll again, even louder than before.
"It is I, the Middle Billy Goat Gruff," said the middle brother in a voice that was middling strong. "I'm going to the hillside to make myself fat."
"Oh no you're not! I'm going to eat you up!"
"Wait for my great big brother," said the middle goat calmly. "He is three times my size and would fill you up much better."
The troll grumbled and muttered, but again he let the goat pass.
Then came the Great Big Billy Goat Gruff. His hooves went TRIP-TRAP, TRIP-TRAP, TRIP-TRAP, shaking the planks of the bridge and echoing off the rocky walls of the valley.
"WHO'S THAT TRIP-TRAPPING OVER MY BRIDGE?" thundered the troll, clambering up with his claws and his terrible eyes gleaming.
"IT IS I, THE GREAT BIG BILLY GOAT GRUFF," said the great goat in a voice like rolling thunder. "And I am not afraid of you."
The troll leaped onto the bridge with a roar — but the Great Big Billy Goat Gruff lowered his great horns and charged. He butted the troll so hard that the creature flew through the air and splashed into the rushing stream below, and was never seen again.
And so all three billy goats crossed safely to the green hillside, where the grass was thick and sweet. They ate until they were so fat and round they could barely walk, and they lived contentedly ever after on that beautiful hill.
Snip, snap, snout — this tale's told out.