There was once a King’s son, who was no longer content to stay at home in his father’s house, and as he had no fear of anything, he thought, “I will go forth into the wide world, there the time will not seem long to me, and I shall see wonders enough.” So he took leave of his parents, and went forth, and on and on from morning till night, and whichever way his path led it was the same to him. It came to pass that he got to the house of a giant, and as he was so tired he sat down by the door and rested. And as he let his eyes roam here and there, he saw the giant’s playthings lying in the yard. These were a couple of enormous balls, and ninepins as tall as a man. After a while he had a fancy to set the ninepins up and then rolled the balls at them, and screamed and cried out when the ninepins fell, and had a merry time of it. The giant heard the noise, stretched his head out of the window, and saw a man who was not taller than other men, and yet played with his ninepins.
“Little worm,” cried he, “why art thou playing with my balls? Who gave thee strength to do it?”