Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time, in a cottage at the edge of a deep woods, lived a little girl and her mother. The little girl always wore a little red cape her grandmother had made for her, with a red hood to cover her curls. So the neighbors called her Little Red Ridinghood.

     One morning Red Ridinghood’s mother put a loaf of crusty brown bread, some spiced meat, and a bottle of red wine into a basket and said to her,”I want you to take these goodies to your grandmother, who is sick. But be sure to go straight along the woods path, and do not stop to play or talk to any strangers.”

    Little Red Ridinghood promised to be careful. She put on her little cape and hood, took the little basket, and off she started. She loved the walk through the shady green woods where all the flowers and birds and little animals lived. But today she did not stop to play with any of her forest friends. She kept right on the path.

     Suddenly from behind a big oak tree a great gray wolf appeared. He was an evil-looking fellow, but he smiled at Little Red Ridinghood, and said politely:

    “Good morning, my dear. And where are you going this fine days?”

   “My grandmother is sick and I am going to her little cottage in the woods, to take her this basket from my mother.  And my mother says I am not to stop to play along the way or speak to strangers.”

    “Always obey your mother, my dear,” said the wolf, eying Little Redhood hungrily. “Now I do not want to delay you,since you have a long way to go, so good day!”

  With a little bow the wolf disappeared among the tress, and Redinghood skipped along toward her grandmother’s house.

   The wicked wolf, meanwhile, had taken a short cut through the woods, and he reached the grandmother’s cottage long before Little Red Ridinghood.

   “Who is there?” called the grandmother, who was still in bed.

“It is I, Little Red Ridinghood,” said the wolf, trying to make his voice sound soft and sweet.

   “Come in, my dear,” said the grandmother. “Just pull the latch-string.”

    So the wolf pulled the latch-string and slipped onto the grandmother’s cottage, and he ate her up in one bite. Then he put on her nightgown and nightcap and climbed into her bed. He was just pulling the sheet up over his nose when Little Red Ridinghood rapped at the door.

     “Who is there?” called the wolf, trying to make his voice sweet and quavery. “It is I, Little Red Ridinghood,said the little girl.

   “Come in, my dear,” said the wolf. “Just pull the latch-string.”

   So Red Ridinghood went in and put her little basket down on the table.

    “Now come closer, my dear,” said the wolf.

  “Why, Granny, what big ears you have!”

Cried Little Red Ridinghood.

 “ The better to see you with, my dear,” said the wolf.

“And Granny, what big teeth you have!”

 “The better to EAT you with!” snapped the wolf, springing at Little Red Ridinghood.

Calling for the help, she ran out of the cottage and straight into the arms of a sturdy woodcutter.

   He stepped into the cottage, and with one blow of his axe killed the wicked wolf.

 He cut him open, and out stepped Little Redhood’s grandmother, none the worse for her fright.

             She kissed Little Red Ridinghood warmly, and thanked the woodcutter for saving their lives. Then, after they all had a nice lunch from the goodies in Little Red Ridinghood’s basket, the woodcutter took the little girl home.

There has never been another wolf seen in that forest, but Little Red Ridinghood takes no chances. She keeps right on the path, does not stop to play along the way, and never speaks to strangers.