Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a little country
girl, the prettiest creature ever seen. Her mother was very fond of
her, and her grandmother doted on her still more. This good woman had
made for her a little red riding-hood, which became the girl so well
that everybody called her Little Red Riding-Hood.
One day her mother, having made some custards, said to her:
“Go, my dear, and see how thy grandmamma does, for I hear she has been
very ill; carry her a custard and this little pot of butter.”
Little Red Riding-Hood set out immediately to go to her grandmother,
who lived in another village.
As she was going through the wood she met with Gaffer Wolf, who had a
very great mind to eat her up, but he durst not, because of some fagot
makers hard by in the forest. He asked her whither she was going. The
poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stop and listen
to a wolf, said to him:
“I am going to see my grandmamma and carry her a custard and a little
pot of butter from my mamma.”
“Does she live far off?” said the Wolf.
“Oh! yes,” answered Little Red Riding-Hood; “it is beyond that mill you
see there, at the first house in the village.”
“Well,” said the Wolf, “I’ll go and see her, too. I’ll go this way and
you go that, and we shall see who will be there soonest.”
The Wolf began to run as fast as he could, taking the nearest way, and
the little girl went by the longest, diverting herself in gathering
nuts, running after butterflies, and making nosegays of such little
flowers as she met with. The Wolf was not long before he got to the old
woman’s house. He knocked at the door—tap, tap.
“Who’s there?”
“Your grandchild, Little Red Riding-Hood,” replied the Wolf, imitating
her voice; “who has brought you a custard and a little pot of butter
sent you by mamma.”
The good grandmother, who was in bed, because she was ill, cried out:
“Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.”
The Wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened, and he fell upon the
good woman and ate her up in a moment, for it was above three days that
he had not touched a bit. He then shut the door and went into the
grandmother’s bed, expecting Little Red Riding-Hood, who came some time
afterward and knocked at the door—tap, tap.
“Who’s there?”
Little Red Riding-Hood, hearing the big voice of the Wolf, was at first
afraid; but believing her grandmother had got a cold and was hoarse,
answered:
’Tis your grandchild, Little Red Riding-Hood, who has brought you a
custard and a little pot of butter mamma sends you.”
The Wolf cried out to her, softening his voice as much as he could:
“Pull the bobbin and the latch will go up.”
Little Red Riding-Hood pulled the bobbin and the door opened.
The wolf, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the
bedclothes:
“Put the custard and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come
and lie down with me.”
Little Red Riding-Hood undressed herself and went into bed, where,
being greatly amazed to see how her grandmother looked in her night
clothes, she said to her:
“Grandmamma, what great arms you’ve got!”
“That is the better to hug thee, my dear.”
“Grandmamma, what great legs you’ve got!”
“The better to run, my child.”
“Grandmamma, what great ears you’ve got!”
“The better to hear, my child!”
“Grandmamma, what great eyes you’ve got!”
“The better to see, my child.”
“Grandmamma, what great teeth you’ve got!”
“To eat thee up!”
And saying these words, the wicked Wolf fell upon Little Red
Riding-Hood and ate her all up.