‘Yes, dear mother, it is I,’ said Pinkel.
‘Have you stolen my golden goat?’ asked she.
‘Yes, dear mother, I have,’ answered Pinkel.
‘Are you not a knave, Pinkel?’
‘Yes, dear mother, I am,’ he replied. And the witch shouted in a rage:
PINKEL STEALS THE WITCH’S GOAT
‘Ah! beware how you come hither again, for next time you shall not escape me!’
But Pinkel only laughed and rowed on.
The king was so delighted with the goat that he always kept it by his side, night and day; and, as he had promised, Pinkel was made ruler over the third part of the kingdom. As may be supposed, the brothers were more furious than ever, and grew quite thin with rage.
‘How can we get rid of him?’ said one to the other. And at length they remembered the golden cloak.
