'Oh! if that be all', said the Troll, 'there's no lack of lion's
milk, if we only had the man to fetch it'; and then he went on to say
how his brother had a garden with twelve lions in it, and how the lad
might have the key if he had a mind to milk the lions. So the lad
took the key and a milking pail, and strode off; and when he unlocked
the gate and got into the garden, there stood all the twelve lions on
their hind-paws, rampant and roaring at him. But the lad laid hold of
the biggest, and led him about by the fore-paws, and dashed him
against stocks and stones, till there wasn't a bit of him left but
the two paws. So when the rest saw that, they were so afraid that
they crept up and lay at his feet like so many curs. After that they
followed him about wherever he went, and when he got home, they lay
down outside the house, with their fore-paws on the door sill.

'Now, mother, you'll soon be well', said the lad, when he went in,
'for here is the lion's milk.'

He had just milked a drop in the pail.

But the Troll, as he lay in bed, swore it was all a lie. He was sure
the lad was not the man to milk lions.

When the lad heard that, he forced the Troll to get out of bed, threw
open the door, and all the lions rose up and seized the Troll, and at
last the lad had to make them leave their hold.

That night the Troll began to talk to the old dame again.

'I'm sure I can't tell how to put this lad out of the way--he is so
awfully strong; can't you think of some way?