‘Oh, what could you do down at the strand?’ said the kitchen- maid. ‘You have nothing to do there.’
‘Oh yes, my dear, just let me go,’ said Minnikin. ‘I should so like to go and amuse myself with the other children.’
‘Well, well, go then!’ said the kitchen-maid, ‘but don’t let me find you staying there over the time when the pan has to be set on the fire for supper, and the roast put on the spit; and mind you bring back a good big armful of wood for the kitchen.’
Minnikin promised this, and ran down to the sea-shore.
Just as he got to the place where the King’s daughter was sitting, the Troll came rushing up with a great whistling and whirring, and he was so big and stout that he was terrible to see, and he had five heads.
‘Fire!’ screeched the Troll.
‘Fire yourself!’ said Minnikin.
‘Can you fight?’ roared the Troll.
‘If not, I can learn,’ said Minnikin.
