It was once a goat who had three kids. Great kid and middle give the stick they were naughty little Iara was diligent and quiet. As the saying goes: "There are five fingers on one hand and not like all each other". One day, goat kids on call-out and they say - Mother Dear little children! I go into the woods to go get something to food. But you lock the door behind me, listen to each other, and somehow not open until you do not hear my voice.
