Just at this moment the Grandmother arrives, returning from the town with her long sack empty on her shoulder. ‘Ah, brigand!’ she cries, ‘wait a bit!’ Quickly she opens her sack wide across the door, and the maddened Wolf springs in head downwards. It is he now that is caught, swallowed like a letter in the post. For the brave old dame shuts her sack, so; and she runs and empties it in the well, where the vagabond, still howling, tumbles in and is drowned. ‘Ah, scoundrel! you thought you would crunch my little grandchild! Well, to-morrow we will make her a muff of your skin, and you yourself shall be crunched, for we will give your carcass to the dogs.’ Thereupon the Grandmother hastened to dress poor Blanchette, who was still trembling with fear in the bed. ‘Well,’ she said to her, ‘without my little hood where would you be now, darling?’ And, to restore heart and legs to the child, she made her eat a good piece of her cake, and drink a good draught of wine, after which she took her by the hand and led her back to the house. And then, who was it who scolded her when she knew all that had happened? It was the mother. But Blanchette promised over and over again that she would never more stop to listen to a Wolf, so that at last the mother forgave her. And Blanchette, the Little Golden-hood, kept her word. And in fine weather she may still be seen in the fields with her pretty little hood, the colour of the sun. But to see her you must rise early.[17] [17] Ch. Marelles. THE GOLDEN BRANCH Once upon a time there was a King who was so morose and disagreeable that he was feared by all his subjects, and with good reason, as for the most trifling offences he would have their heads cut off. This King Grumpy, as he was called, had one son, who was as different from his father as he could possibly be. No prince equalled him in cleverness and kindness of heart, but unfortunately he was most terribly ugly. He had crooked legs and squinting eyes, a large mouth all on one side, and a hunchback. Never was there a beautiful soul in such a frightful little body, but in spite of his appearance everybody loved him. The Queen, his mother, called him Curlicue, because it was a name she rather liked, and it seemed to suit him. King Grumpy, who cared a great deal more for his own grandeur than for his son’s happiness, wished to betroth the Prince to the daughter of a neighbouring King, whose great estates joined his own, for he thought that this alliance would make him more powerful than ever, and as for the Princess she would do very well for Prince Curlicue, for she was as ugly as himself. Indeed, though she was the most amiable creature in the world, there was no concealing the fact that she was frightful, and so lame that she always went about with a crutch, and people called her Princess Cabbage-Stalk.