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, the first house you come to in the village.”
“Well,” said the Wolf, “and I’ll go and see her, too. I’ll go this way, and you go that, and we shall see who will be there first.”
The Wolf began to run as fast as he could, taking the shortest way, and the little girl went by the longest way, amusing herself by gathering nuts, running after butterflies, and making nosegays of such little flowers as she met with. The Wolf was not long before he reached the old woman’s house. He knocked at the door—tap, tap, tap.
“Who’s there?” called the grandmother.
“Your grandchild, Little Red Riding-hood,” replied the Wolf, imitating her voice, “who has brought a custard and a little pot of butter sent to you by mamma.”
The good grandmother, who was in bed, because she was somewhat ill, cried out:—
“Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up.”
The Wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened. He fell upon the good woman and ate her up in no time, for he had not eaten anything for more than three days. He then shut the
