Bedtime Stories

Traditional Tales for young & old


The Three Goats

A rhyming tale with a hidden message

Retold by Brigitte Franssen; illustrated by Jef Franssen


Once upon a time
in land with high mountains to climb
and rushing rivers to cross
lived three goats with nothing to eat but moss.

And everything came to pass
when the youngest and smallest of the goats
saw loads and loads
of the most luscious green grass.
Down the ridge, onto the bridge
the small goat skipped.

Skip, Trip, Skip, Trip, Skip, Trip

When suddenly, a wolf licking his beard,
appeared.

"Who's that skipping and tripping over my bridge?"
roared the wolf, "Don't you belong on the ridge?"

"I'm goat Little," said the small goat
with a lump in his throat.
"A nice meal that is what you will be,"
growled the wolf.
"But, but," bleated goat Little, "I'm no delicacy!
I'm only skin and bone
not even fully grown.
My brother, you see
is much heavier and tastier than me.
He smells of caramel
and is coming this way as well.
So please, please, Mister Wolf, let me pass
so I can go to the green green grass."

The wolf thought about this long and hard
not seeing the charade
but an even bigger meal
which he thought, was a good deal.
Down the ridge, onto the bridge
the brother skipped.

Skip, Trip, Skip, Trip, Skip, Trip

When suddenly, the wolf licking his beard,
appeared.

"Who's that skipping and tripping over my bridge?"
roared the wolf, "Did you come from the ridge?"

"I'm goat Middle," said the goat
but the wolf prepared to jump at his throat.
"A nice meal that is what you will be,"
growled the wolf.
"But, but," bleated the goat Middle, "I'm no delicacy!
I'm only skin and bone
not even fully grown.
My brother, you see
is much heavier and tastier than me.
He smells of caramel
and is coming this way as well.
So please, please Mister Wolf, let me pass
so I can go to the green green grass."

The wolf in all his greed
quickly, agreed.
Down the ridge, onto the bridge
the third brother ran.

Stamp, Tramp, Stamp, Tramp, Stamp, Tramp
When suddenly, the wolf licking his beard,
appeared.

"Who's that stamping and tramping over my bridge?"
said the wolf, "Did you come from the ridge?"

"I'm goat Big," said the goat.

In front of the wolf stood a gigantic goat
and the wolf knew, he had missed the boat.

With his mighty horns, goat Big
threw the wolf in the river, like a twig.
What ever happened to the wolf...... Who knows?

But there where the river flows
and the green grass grows
the three goats sat
and got fat.

And That's That!

~ The End ~





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© Brigitte Franssen 2005
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