Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time there lived in a village a little girl whom everybody loved. Her grandmother loved her most of all. She knitted her granddaughter a red hood from soft wool, and the girl liked it so much that she refused to wear any other. From then on everyone called her Little Red Riding Hood.

One morning her mother put a fresh pie and a pot of honey into a basket.

"Grandmother is ill," she said. "Take her these treats, so she can enjoy them and get her strength back. Follow the path and don’t leave it anywhere. Or you will get lost or fall, and Grandmother will be left without her pie."

"I won’t leave it, Mama," promised Little Red Riding Hood, and she kissed her mother on the cheek.

Grandmother lived in the forest, half an hour’s walk from the village, under three big oak trees. A hazel bush grew by her cottage, and the girl had been there many times.

She had barely stepped into the forest when she met a wolf. He was grey, with a fluffy tail and sly eyes. Little Red Riding Hood did not know that a wolf is a wicked beast, so she was not frightened in the least.

"Good morning, Little Red Riding Hood!" said the wolf sweetly.

"Good morning, Wolf."

"Where are you off to so early?"

"To Grandmother’s."

"And what is in your basket?"

"A pie and some honey. Grandmother is ill, and I want her to have something tasty."

"And where does your grandmother live?"

"Farther in the forest, under three oak trees. There is a hazel bush there too, you know the place."

The wolf licked his lips and thought: "What a catch! A tender little girl, and an old woman on top of her. I only have to be clever, so that I get both of them."

He walked along beside her for a while and said:

"Look at all the flowers around us! Why are you marching as if you were off to school, without even glancing about? And how the little birds sing! It is so lovely in the forest."

Little Red Riding Hood looked up, and it was true: the sun was breaking through the branches and trembling on the grass, and there were flowers everywhere, blue, yellow and white. "I’ll bring Grandmother a bunch," she thought. "It’s still early, I have time."

And she turned off the path into the woods. She picked one flower, and a little farther on there was a prettier one. She stepped over to it, and there was a prettier one still. So she wandered deeper and deeper into the thicket.

Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to Grandmother’s cottage. Knock, knock!

"Who is there?"

"Little Red Riding Hood," the wolf squeaked in a thin voice. "I’ve brought you a pie and honey. Open the door!"

"Lift the latch," called Grandmother. "I am so weak I cannot even get up."

Click, and the door opened. The wolf said not a word. He leapt to the bed and gulp! he swallowed Grandmother whole. Then he put on her nightgown, pulled on her nightcap, climbed into the bed and drew the curtain.

By then Little Red Riding Hood had picked so many flowers that she could carry no more. Then she remembered Grandmother and hurried to the cottage.

She was surprised to find the door ajar. She went into the room, and it felt strange there, almost eerie. "Oh," she thought, "I am always so happy at Grandmother’s, but today I feel scared."

"Good morning, Grandmother!" she called.

Nobody answered. She went up to the bed and drew back the curtain. There lay Grandmother, her cap pulled down over her eyes, looking very odd indeed.

"Grandmother, what big ears you have!"

"All the better to hear you with."

"Grandmother, what big eyes you have!"

"All the better to see you with."

"Grandmother, what big hands you have!"

"All the better to hug you with."

"Grandmother, what a terribly big mouth you have!"

"All the better to eat you with!"

Before Little Red Riding Hood could even cry out, the wolf sprang from the bed, gulp! and swallowed her too.

The wolf had eaten his fill. He lay down in the bed again and began to snore, so loudly that the windowpanes rattled.

A hunter happened to be passing the cottage. He heard the snoring and stopped.

"Why is the old lady snoring like that? I had better look in and see that no harm has come to her."

He stepped into the room, looked at the bed, and there lay the wolf.

"So here you are, you old rascal," said the hunter. "I have been looking for you for a long time."

He was about to raise his gun, but he thought: "What if he has swallowed the grandmother? Perhaps she can still be saved." So he took a pair of scissors and, quietly, while the wolf slept, snip, snip, he cut open his belly.

Something red showed inside. A little hood! Snip once more, and out jumped the girl.

"Oh, how frightened I was!" she cried. "It is so dark inside a wolf!"

After her climbed out Grandmother, alive, though she could hardly breathe.

Little Red Riding Hood quickly dragged big stones from the yard, and together they filled the wolf’s belly with them. The wolf woke up and tried to run away, but the stones were so heavy that he took one step, then another, thud! He fell down and never got up again.

The three of them were glad. The hunter took the wolf’s skin and went home. Grandmother ate the pie, tasted the honey and slowly came back to life. And Little Red Riding Hood sat beside her and thought: "I will never again leave the path for the forest when Mama asks me not to."

Some time passed, and Little Red Riding Hood carried Grandmother a new pie. Again a wolf met her in the forest, a different one this time. He was sweet-spoken too, sly too, and he too invited her to look at the flowers.

But now she knew what was what. She did not even glance at those flowers and went straight along the path. She came to Grandmother and told her:

"Grandmother, I met a wolf. He said good morning, but his eyes were so mean! If we had not met on the path, he would have eaten me."

"Well then, let’s bolt the door," said Grandmother, "so that he cannot come in."

Soon there was a knock, knock!

"Open up, Grandmother, it’s me, Little Red Riding Hood, I’ve brought you a pie!"

Grandmother and granddaughter sat quiet as mice and did not open. The grey wolf prowled around the cottage, then climbed up on the roof. He was waiting for Little Red Riding Hood to start for home in the evening, so he could creep after her in the dark and swallow her.

But Grandmother guessed what he was planning. And in front of the cottage stood a big stone trough.

"Yesterday I boiled sausages," said Grandmother. "Take a bucket, Little Red Riding Hood, and carry the water they were boiled in out to the trough."

Little Red Riding Hood carried bucket after bucket until the trough was full to the brim. The smell of sausages floated up, right under the wolf’s nose. He sniffed and sniffed, stretching his neck farther and farther, and could not hold on. Slip down the roof, splash! He plunged right into the trough. He scrambled out wet to the skin, shook himself and fled into the thicket. And nobody in that forest ever saw him again.

And that evening Little Red Riding Hood walked home happy and safe, along the path, just as her mother had said.