Dear Mister Troll's bridge is a treasure trove of knowledge. Nestled below the old planks over which passers-by blithely trip-trap-trip-trap, sturdy shelves bear hardbound and paperback treasure chests from many worlds. I'm talking about books. And where did all those books filled with gems and trinkets come from? Well, Mister Troll and I have collected them together for many years.
Where do you think he learned all those tales you've heard about? That's right, from those books, right over there.
And why do you think they're all so good?
The reason is because we've been very picky, very meticulous, and very cranky in our choosing. We choose only the best. He only has so much shelf space, and I'm not helping him build another shelf anytime soon. Besides, who wants to hear (or tell) a bad story?
If only my nephews had understood the value of a good story. Instead of threatening our neighbor, Dear Mister Troll, and running off to fatten their bellies, they could have learned something. Next time I see them, I'll show them gruff.
As for you, take a seat. Trolls don't actually eat people or goats, you know. That's just a nasty rumor. As for goats, we'll eat anything. But I'll make an exception for you.
Support Books Under the Bridge
Shop at Amazon.com