“But all the same,” said Boots; “if I may have leave to sleep on the Princess’ bed to-night, outside the quilt, she shall have my tap. I’ll not do her any harm; but, if she’s afraid, she may set eight men to watch in her room.”
“Oh, no!” said the Princess, “there was no need of that, she knew him now so well;” and so Boots lay outside the Princess’ bed that night. But if she hadn’t slept much the two nights before, she had less sleep that night; for she couldn’t shut her eyes the livelong night, but lay and looked at Boots, who lay alongside her outside the quilt.
So, when she got up in the morning, and they were going to row Boots back to the island, she begged them to hold hard a little bit; and in she ran to the king, and begged him so prettily to let her have Boots for a husband, she was so fond of him, and, unless she had him, she did not care to live.
“Well, well!” said the king, “you shall have him if you must; for he who has such things is just as rich as you are.”
So Boots got the Princess and half the kingdom—the other half he was to have when the king died; and so everything went smooth and well; but as for his brothers, who had always been so bad to him, he packed them off to the Beggars’ Island.
“There,” said Boots, “perhaps they may find out which is best off, the man who has his pockets full of money, or the man whom all women fall in love with.”
Nor, to tell you the truth, do I think it would help them much to wander about upon the Beggars’ Island pulling pieces of money out of their pockets; and so, if Boots hasn’t taken them off the island, there they are still walking about to this very day, eating cheese parings and the scrapings of the porridge-pots.
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ONCE on a time there were three Billy-goats who were to go up to the hill-side to make themselves fat, and the name of all three was “Gruff.”
On the way up was a bridge over a burn they had to cross; and under the bridge lived a great ugly Troll, with eyes as big as saucers, and a nose as long as a poker.
So first of all came the youngest billy-goat Gruff to cross the bridge.
“Trip, trap; trip, trap!” went the bridge.
“WHO’S THAT tripping over my bridge?” roared the Troll.