Not long after this the old goat came home from the woods.
Ah, what did she see! The house door was wide open; the tables and
chairs were upset.
The washtub was broken in pieces, and the bed was tipped over.
"Where are my dear children?" cried the poor goat.
At last she heard a little voice crying, "Dear mother, here I am in the
tall clock."
The old goat helped the little goat out.
Soon she learned how the wolf had eaten her dear children.
Then she went out of the hut, and there on the grass lay the wolf sound
asleep.
As the goat looked at the wicked old wolf, she thought she saw something
jumping about inside him.
"Ah," she said, "it may be that my poor children are still alive."
So she sent the little kid into the house for a pair of scissors and a
needle and some thread.
She quickly cut a hole in the side of the wicked old wolf.
At the first snip of the scissors, one of the kids stuck out his head.
As the old goat cut, more and more heads popped out.
At last all six of the kids jumped out upon the grass.
They went hopping and skipping about their mother.
Then the old goat said to them, "Go and bring me some large stones from
the brook."
The seven little kids ran off to the brook and soon came back with seven
large stones.
They put these stones inside the wicked old wolf.
[Illustration]
The old goat sewed up the wolf's side so gently and quietly that he did
not wake up nor move.
When at last the wicked wolf did wake up, the great stones inside him
made him feel very heavy.
He was thirsty, too, so he walked down to the brook to drink.
The stones were so heavy that they tipped him over the edge of the bank
into the deep water, and he was drowned.