“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. THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS By Robert Southey