The good grandmother, who had eaten nothing for two days except a
mallard, with a pint of champagne, cried out hungrily, "Come in, my
dear."
The Wolf ran in, and, falling upon the old lady, ate her up in a hurry,
for he had not tasted food for a whole week. He then got into the bed,
and presently Little Red Riding-Hood tapped at the door.
The Wolf pitched his voice as high and unpleasant as he could, and
called out, "What is it, Hawkins?"
"It isn't Hawkins," replied Little Red Riding-Hood. "It is your
grandchild, who has brought you a filet and a little pot of foie gras."
"Come in, my dear," responded the Wolf. And when the child entered he
said: "Put the filet and the little pot of foie gras on the gold
tabouret, and come and lie down with me."
Little Red Riding-Hood did not think it good form to go to bed so very,
very late in the morning, but as she expected to inherit her
grandmother's millions she obediently took off her gold-flowered frock,
and her pretty silk petticoat, and her dear little diamond stomacher,
and got into bed, where, amazed at the change for the better in her
grandmother's appearance, she said to her:
"Grandmother, how thin your arms have got!"
"I have been dieting, my dear."
"Grandmother, how thin your legs have got!"
"The doctor makes me walk every day."
"Grandmother, how quiet you are!"
"This isn't a symphony concert hall, my dear."
"Grandmother, what has become of your diamond-filled teeth?"
"These will do, my dear."
And saying these words the wicked Wolf fell upon Little Red Riding-Hood
and ate her all up.