Little Red Riding-Hood

Once upon a time, there lived in a certain village, a little country girl, the prettiest creature anyone had ever seenthe prettiest creature was ever seen. Her mother was excessively fond of her; and her grandmother adored her even moreher grand-mother doated on her much more. This good woman had a little red riding-hood made for her. It suited the girl so well that everybodygot made for her a little red riding-hood; which became the girl so extremely well, that every body called her Little Red Riding-Hood.

One day, her mother, after making some griddle cakeshaving made some girdle-cakes, said to her:

"Go, my dear, and see how your grandmother is, for I hear she has been very ill. Take her a griddle cakehow thy grand-mamma does, for I hear she has been very ill, carry her a girdle-cake, and this little pot of butter."

Little Red Riding-Hood set out immediately to go to her grandmothergo to her grand-mother, who lived in another village. As she was going through the woodgoing thro' the wood, she met with Gaffer Wolf, who very much wanted to eat her up. But he did not dare, because some woodcutters were nearby in the forestwho had a very great mind to eat her up, but he durst not, because of some faggot-makers hard by in the forest.

He asked her where she was goingwhither she was going. The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stop and listen to a Wolfto stay and hear a Wolf talk, said to him:

"I am going to see my grandmother, and take her a griddle cakemy grand-mamma, and carry her a girdle-cake, and a little pot of butter, from my mamma."

"Does she live far off?" said the Wolf.

"Oh! yesOh! ay," answered Little Red Riding-Hood, "it is beyond that mill you see there, at the first house 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 soonest."

The Wolf began to run as fast as he could, taking the shortest way. The little girl took the longest route, enjoying herself gathering nutstaking the nearest way; and the little girl went by that farthest about, diverting herself in gathering nuts, running after butterflies, and making posies from the little flowers she foundmaking nosegays of such little flowers as she met with. The Wolf soon reachedThe Wolf was not long before he got to the old woman's house: he knocked at the door, tap, tap.

"Who's there?"

"Your grandchildYour grand-child, Little Red Riding-Hood," replied the Wolf, imitating her voicecounterfeiting her voice, "who has brought you a griddle cake and a little pot of butter from mammaa girdle-cake, and a little pot of butter, sent you by mamma."

The good grandmother was in bed because she felt rather ill. She called out:The good grand-mother, who was in bed, because she found herself somewhat ill, cry'd out:

"Pull the peg, and the bolt will fall."

The Wolf pulled the peg and the door opened. He immediately pounced on the good woman and ate her up in a moment, for he had not eaten a bite in over three days.The Wolf pull'd the peg, and the door opened, and then presently 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, waiting forthe grand-mother's bed, expecting Little Red Riding-Hood, who came some time afterwards, and knockedknock'd at the door, tap, tap.

"Who's there?"

Little Red Riding-Hood, hearing the big voice of the Wolf, was at first afraid; but thinking her grandmother had a cold and a hoarse voicebelieving her grand-mother had got a cold, and was hoarse, answered:

"It’s your grandchild'Tis your grand-child, Little Red Riding-Hood, who has brought you a griddle cake and a little pot of butter that mamma sends youa girdle-cake, 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 peg, and the bolt will fall."

Little Red Riding-Hood pulled the peg, and the door opened. The Wolf seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bedclothes:

"Put the cake, and the little pot of butter upon the bread-bin, and come and lie downlye down with me."

Little Red Riding-Hood undressed herself, and got into bed. She was very surprised by how her grandmother looked in her nightclothes, and said:went into bed; where, being greatly amazed to see how her grand-mother looked in her night-cloaths, she said to her:

"Grand-mamma, what great arms you have got!"

"That is the better to hug youhug thee, my dear."

"Grand-mamma, what great legs you have got!"

"That is to run the better, my child."

"Grand-mamma, what great ears you have got!"

"That is to hear the better, my child."

"Grand-mamma, what great eyes you have got!"

"It is to see the better, my child."

"Grand-mamma, what great teeth you have got!"

"That is to eat you upeat thee up."

And, saying these words, this wicked Wolf fell upon poor Little Red Riding-Hood, and ate her all up.

The Moral

This short story shows young people
how they ought to behave.
It speaks especially to young women
just coming into bloom,
whose beauty and charm can win young hearts.
They are unwise to listen to every smooth talker:
some voices charm and lure like the songs of the Sirens.
No wonder so many have been overcome
and devoured by the Wolf!
I say the Wolf,
for there are wolves of every kind and character.
Some seem mild and gentle,
without anger, bitterness or spite.
They act friendly and eager to please,
casting lingering glances
and coaxing with sweet words.
They follow young women along the street,
right into their homes, even to their beds,
while cleverly hiding what they really want.
Ah, these smiling wolves!
Who can fail to see
that they are the most dangerous of all?From this short story easy we discern
What conduct all young people ought to learn.
But above all, young, growing misses fair,
Whose orient rosy blooms begin t'appear:
Who, beauties in the fragrant spring of age,
With pretty airs young hearts are apt t'engage.
Ill do they listen to all sorts of tongues,
Since some inchant and lure like Syrens' songs.
No wonder therefore 'tis, if over-power'd,
So many of them has the Wolf devour'd.
The Wolf, I say, for Wolves too sure there are
Of every sort, and every character.
Some of them mild and gentle-humour'd be,
Of noise and gall, and rancour wholly free;
Who tame, familiar, full of complaisance
Ogle and leer, languish, cajole and glance;
With luring tongues, and language wond'rous sweet,
Follow young ladies as they walk the street,
Ev'n to their very houses, nay, bedside,
And, artful, tho' their true designs they hide;
Yet ah! these simpering Wolves! Who does not see
Most dangerous of Wolves indeed they be?