Grimms' Fairy Tales

The Frog Prince

IN the olden time, when wishing was some good, there lived a King whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so lovely that even the sun, that looked on many things, could not but marvel when he shone upon her face.

Near the King’s palace there was a large dark forest, and in the forest, under an old lime-tree, was a well. When the day was very hot the Princess used to go into the forest and sit upon the edge of this cool well; and when she was tired of doing nothing she would play with a golden ball, throwing it up in the air and catching it again; and this was her favourite game. Now on one occasion it so happened that the ball did not fall back into her hand stretched up to catch it, but it dropped to the ground and rolled straight into the well. The Princess followed it with her eyes, but it disappeared, and the well was so very deep that it was quite impossible to see the bottom. Then she began to cry bitterly, and nothing would comfort her.

As she was lamenting in this manner, some one called out to her, What is the matter, Princess? Your lamentations would move the heart of a stone.

She looked round towards the spot whence the voice came, and saw a toad stretching its broad ugly face out of the water.

Oh, it’s you, is it, old splasher? I am crying for my golden ball, which has fallen into the water.

Be quiet then, and stop crying, answered the toad. I know what to do; but what will you give me if I get you back your plaything?

Whatever you like, you dear old toad, she said. My clothes, my pearls and diamonds, or even the golden crown upon my head.

The Frog answered, I care neither for your clothes, your peads and diamonds, nor even your golden crown; but if you will be fond of me, and let me be your playmate, sit by you at table, eat out of your plate, drink out of your cup, and sleep in your little bed—if you will promise to do all this, I will go down and fetch your ball.

I will promise anything you like to ask, if only you will get me back my ball.

She thought, What is the silly old toad chattering about? He lives in the well, croaking with his mates, and he can’t be the companion of a human being.

As soon as the toad received her promise, he ducked his head under the water and disappeared. After a little while, back he came with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on to the grass beside her.

The Princess was full of joy when she saw her pretty toy again, picked it up, and ran off with it.

Wait, wait, cried the toad. Take me with you; I can’t run as fast as you can.

But what was the good of his crying Croak, croak, as loud as he could? She did not listen to him, but hurried home, and forgot all about the poor toad; and he had to go back to his well.

The next day, as she was sitting at dinner with the King and all the courtiers, eating out of her golden plate, something came flopping up the stairs, flip-flap, flip-flap. When it reached the top it knocked at the door, and cried: Youngest daughter of the King, you must let me in. She ran to see who it was. When she opened the door and saw the toad, she shut it again very quickly, and went hack to the table, for she was very much frightened.

The King saw that her heart was beating very fast, and he said: My child, what is the matter? is there a giant at the door wanting to take you away?

Oh no! she said; it’s not a giant, but a hideous toad.

What does the toad want with you?

Oh, father dear, last night, when I was playing by the well in the forest, my golden ball fell into the water. And I cried, and the toad got it out for me; and then, because he insisted on it, I promised that he should be my playmate. But I never thought that he would come out of the water, but there he is, and he wants to come in to me.

He knocked at the door for the second time, and sang–

"Youngest daughter of the King,

Take me up, I sing;

Know you not what yesterday You to me did say

By the well in forest dell?

Youngest daughter of the King, Take me up, I sing."

Then said the King, What you have promised you must perform. Go and open the door for him.

So she opened the door, and the toad hobbled in, keeping close to her feet, till he reached her chair. Then he cried, Lift me up beside you. She hesitated, till the King ordered her to do it. When the toad was put on the chair, he demanded to be placed upon the table, and then he said, Push your golden plate nearer that we may eat together. She did as he asked her, but very unwillingly, as could easily be seen. The toad made a good dinner, but the Princess could not swallow a morsel. At last he said, I have eaten enough, and I am tired, carry me into your bedroom and arrange your silken bed, that we may go to sleep.

The Princess began to cry, for she was afraid of the clammy toad, which she did not dare to touch, and which was now to sleep in her pretty little silken bed. But the King grew very angry, and said, You must not despise anyone who has helped you in your need.

So she seized him with two fingers, and carried him upstairs, where she put him in a corner of her room. When she got into bed, he crept up to her, and said, I am tired, and I want to go to sleep as well as you. Lift me up, or I will tell your father.

She was very angry, picked him up, and threw him with all her might against the wall, saying, You may rest there as well as you can, you hideous toad.

When he fell down, he was no longer a hideous toad, but a handsome Prince with beautiful friendly eyes.

So at her father’s wish he became her beloved companion and husband. He told her that he had been bewitched by a wicked fairy, and nobody could have released him from the spells but she herself.

Next morning, when the sun rose, a coach drove up drawn by eight milk-white horses, with white ostrich plumes on their heads, and golden harness. At the back of the carriage stood faithful Henry, the Prince’s body-servant. The faithful fellow had been so distressed when his master was changed into a toad, that he had caused three iron bands to be placed round his heart, lest it should break from grief and pain.

The coach had come to carry the young pair back into the Prince’s own kingdom. The faithful Henry lifted both of them into the coach and mounted again behind, delighted at his master’s deliverance.

They had only gone a little way when the Prince heard something snapping and cracking behind them. He turned round and cried–

Henry, the carriage is breaking!

"No, Sir, that noise I’m a-making,

’Tis the bands round my heart

Just a-coming apart;

For long have you lain,

In trouble and pain,

Like a frog in a well

Fast bound by a spell."

Once more he heard the same snapping and cracking, and then again. The Prince thought it must be some part of the carriage giving way, but it was only the bands round faithful Henry’s heart which were snapping, because of his great joy at his master’s deliverance and happiness.

Cat and Mouse in Partnership

A CAT had made the acquaintance of a mouse, and had talked so much about the great love and friendship she felt for her, that at length the mouse agreed that they should keep house together. But we must make a provision for winter, or else we shall suffer from hunger, said the cat, and you, little mouse, cannot venture everywhere, or you may be caught in a trap.

The good advice was followed, and a pot of fat was bought, but they did not know where to put it. At length, after much consideranon, the cat said, I know no place where it will be better stored up than in the church, for no one dares take anything away from there. We will set it beneath the altar, and not touch it until we are really in need of it.

So the pot was placed in safety; but it was not long before the cat had a great longing for it, and said to the mouse, I want to tell you something, little mouse; my cousin has brought a little son into the world, and has asked me to be godmother; he is white with brown spots, and I am to hold him at the christening. Let me go out today, and you look after the house by yourself.

Yes, yes, answered the mouse, by all means go, and if you get anything very good, think of me; I should like a drop of sweet red christening wine too.

All this, however, was untrue; the cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to be godmother. She went straight to the church, crept to the pot of fat, began to lick at it, and licked the top of the fat off. Then she took a walk upon the roofs of the town, looked out for opportunities, and then stretched herself in the sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought of the pot of fat, and not until it was evening did she return home.

Well, here you are again, said the mouse, no doubt you have had a merry day.

All went off well, answered the cat.

What name did they give the child?

Top-off! said the cat quite coolly.

Top-off! cried the mouse, that is a very odd and uncommon name, is it a usual one in your family?

What’s the difference? said the cat, it is no worse than Crumb-stealer, as your god-children are called.

Before long the cat was seized by another fit of longing. She said to the mouse, You must do me a favour, and once more manage the house for a day alone. I am again asked to be godmother, and, as the child has a white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.

The good mouse consented, but the cat crept behind the town walls to the church, and devoured half the pot of fat. Nothing ever seems so good as what one keeps to oneself, said she, and was quite satisfied with her day’s work.

When she went home the mouse inquired, And what was this child christened?

Half-done, answered the cat.

Half-done! What are you talking about? I never heard the name in my life; I’ll wager anything it’s not in the calendar!

The cat’s mouth soon began to water for some more licking. All good things go in threes, said she, I am asked to stand godmother again. The child is quite black, only it has white paws, but with that exception, it has not a single white hair on its whole body; this only happens once every few years, you will let me go, won’t you?

Top-off! Half-done! answered the mouse, they are such odd names, they make me very thoughtful.

You sit at home, said the cat, in your dark-grey fur coat and long tail, and are filled with fancies; that’s because you do not go out in the daytime. During the cat’s absence the mouse cleaned the house, and put it in order, but the greedy cat entirely emptied the pot of fat. When everything is eaten up one has some peace, said she to herself, and well filled and fat she did not return home till night. The mouse at once asked what name had been given to the third child.

It will not please you more than the others, said the cat. He is called All-gone.

All-gone, cried the mouse, that is the most suspicious name of all! I have never seen it in print. All-gone; what can that mean? and she shook her head, curled herself up, and lay down to sleep.

From this time forth no one invited the cat to be godmother, but when the winter had come and there was no longer anything to be found outside, the mouse thought of their provision. She said, Come, cat, we will go to our pot of fat which we have stored up for ourselves-we shall enjoy that.

Yes, answered the cat, you will enjoy it as much as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue of yours out of the window. They set out on their way, but when they arrived, the pot of fat certainly was still in its place, but it was empty. Alas! said the mouse, now I see what has happened, now it comes to light! You a true friend! Ybu have devoured all when you were standing godmother. First top-off, then half-done, then-

Will you hold your tongue, cried the cat, one word more, and I will eat you too.

All-gone, was already on the poor mouse’s lips; scarcely had she spoken it before the cat sprang on her, seized her, and swallowed her down. But that is the way of the world.

The Youth Who Could Not Shiver Or Shake

THERE was once a father who had two sons. One was clever and sensible, and always knew how to get on. But the younger one was stupid, and could not learn anything, and he had no imagination.

When people saw him, they said: His father will have plenty of trouble with him.

Whenever there was anything to be done, the eldest one always had to do it. But if his father sent him to fetch anything late in the evening, or at night, and the way lay through the churchyard, or any other dreary place, he would answer: Oh no, Father, not there; it makes me shiver and shake! For he was afraid.

In the evening, when stories were being told round the fire which made one’s flesh creep, and the listeners said: Oh, you make me shiver! the youngest son sitting in the corner listening, could not imagine what they meant. They always say ‘It makes me shiver! It makes me shiver!’ And it doesn’t make me shiver a bit. It must be some accomplishment which I can’t understand.

Now it happened one day that his father said to him: I say, you in the corner there, you are growing big and strong. You must learn something by which you can make a living. See what pains your brother takes, but trouble is thrown away upon you.

Well, Father, he answered, I am quite ready to learn something; nay, I should very much like to learn how to shiver and shake, for I know nothing about that.

The elder son laughed when he heard him, and thought: Good heavens! what a fool my brother is; he will never do any good as long as he lives. He who will be a little hook must needs bend betimes.

But his father sighed, and answered: You will easily enough learn how to shiver, but you won’t make your bread by it.

Soon after, the sexton came to the house on a visit, and the father confided his troubles about his son to him. He told him how stupid he was, and how he never could learn anything. Would you believe that when I asked him how he was going to make his living, he said he would like to learn how to shiver and shake?

If that’s all, said the sexton, he may learn that from me. Just let me have him, and I’ll soon put the polish on him.

The father was pleased, for he thought: Anyhow, the lad will gain something by it.

So the sexton took him home with him, and he had to ring the church bells.

A few days after, the sexton woke him at midnight, and told him to get up and ring the bells. You shall soon be taught how to shiver and shake! he thought, as he crept stealthily up the stairs in front of him.

When the lad got up into the tower, and turned round to catch hold of the bell rope, he saw a white figure standing on the steps opposite the loophole.

Who is there? he cried; but the figure neither moved nor answered. Answer, cried the lad, or get out of the way. You have no business here in the night.

But so that the lad should think he was a ghost, the sexton did not stir.

The lad cried for the second time: What do you want here? Speak if you are an honest fellow, or I’ll throw you down the stairs.

The sexton did not think he would go to such lengths, so he made no sound, and stood as still as if he were made of stone.

Then the lad called to him the third time, and, as he had no answer, he took a run and threw the ghost down the stairs. It fell down ten steps, and remained lying in a corner.

Then he rang the bells, went home, and, without saying a word to anybody, went to bed and was soon fast asleep.

The sexton’s wife waited a long time for her husband, but, as he never came back, she got frightened, and woke up the lad.

Don’t you know what has become of my husband? she asked. He went up into the church tower in front of you.

No, answered the lad. There was somebody standing on the stairs opposite the loophole, and, as he would neither answer me nor go away, I took him to be a rogue and threw him downstairs. Go and see if it was your husband; I should be sorry if it were.

The woman hurried away and found her husband lying in the corner, moaning, with a broken leg. She carried him down, and then hastened with loud cries to the lad’s father.

Your son has brought about a great misfortune; he, has thrown my husband downstairs and broken his leg. Take the good-for-nothing fellow away out of our house.

The father was horrified, and, going back with her, gave the lad a good scolding.

What is the meaning of this inhuman prank? The evil one must have put it into your head.

Father, answered the lad, just listen to me. I am quite innocent. He stood there in the dark, like a man with some wicked design. I did not know who it was, and I warned him three times to speak, or to go away.

Alas! said his father, you bring me nothing but disaster. Go away out of my sight. I will have nothing more to do with you.

Gladly, Father. Only wait till daylight; then I will go away, and learn to shiver and shake. Then, at least, I shall have one accomplishment to make my living by.

Learn what you like, said his father. It’s all the same to me. Here are fifty thalers for you. Go out into the world, and don’t tell a creature where you come from, or who your father is, for you will only bring me to shame.

Just as you please, Father. If that is all you want, I can easily fulfil your desire.

At daybreak, the lad put his fifty thalers into his pocket, and went out along the high road, repeating over and over to himself as he went: If only I could shiver, if only I could tremble.

A man came by and overheard the words the lad was saying to himself, and when they had gone a little further, and came within sight of the gallows, he said: See, there is the tree where those seven have been wedded to the rope-maker’s daughter, and are now learning to fly. Sit down below them, and when night comes you will soon learn to shiver and shake.

If nothing more than that is needed, said the lad, it is easily done. And if I learn to shiver as easily as that, you shall have my fifty thalers. Come back to me early to-morrow morning.

Then the lad went up to the gallows, and sat down under them to wait till night came.

As he was cold he lighted a fire, but at midnight the wind grew so cold that he did not know how to keep himself warm.

The wind blew the men on the gallows backwards and forwards, and swung them against one another, so he thought: Here I am freezing by the fire, how much colder they must be up there.

And as he was very compassionate, he mounted the ladder, undid them, and brought all seven down one by one.

Then he blew up the fire, and placed them round it to warm themselves.

They never moved, even when the fire caught their clothing.

Take care, or I will hang you all up again.

The dead men, of course, could not hear, and remained silent while their few rags were burnt up.

Then he grew angry, and said: If you won’t take care of yourselves, I can’t help you, and I won’t be burnt with you.

So he hung them all up again in a row, and sat down by the fue and went to sleep again.

Next morning, the man, wanting to get his fifty thalers, came to him and said: Now do you know what making your flesh creep means?

No, he said; how should I have learnt it? Those fellows up there never opened their mouths, and they were so stupid that they let the few poor rags they had about them burn.

Then the man saw that no thalers would be his that day, and he went away, saying: Never in my life have I seen such a fellow as this.

The lad also went on his way, and again began saying to himself: Oh, if only I could learn to shiver, if only I could learn to shiver.

A carter, walking behind him, heard this, and asked: Who are you?

I don’t know, answered the youth.

Who is your father?.

That I must not say.

What are you always mumbling into your beard?

Ah, answered the youth, I want to learn to shiver, but no one can teach me.

Stop your silly chatter, said the carter. Just you come with me, and I’ll see that you have what you want.

The youth went with the carter, and in the evening they reached an inn, where they meant to pass the night. He said quite loud, as they entered: Oh, if only I could learn to shiver, if only I could learn to shiver.

The landlord, who heard him, laughed, and said: If that’s what you want, there should be plenty of opportunity for you here.

I will have nothing to say to it, said the landlady. So many a prying fell ow has already paid the penalty with his life. It would be a sin and a shame if those bright eyes should not see the light of day again.

But the youth said: I will learn it somehow, however hard it may be. I have been driven out for not knowing it.

He gave the landlord no peace till he told him that there was an enchanted castle a little way off, where anyone could have his flesh made to creep, if he would pass three nights in it. The king had promised his daughter to wife to anyone who dared to do it, and she was the prettiest maiden the sun had ever shone on.

There were also great treasures hidden in the castle, watched over by evil spirits. These were enough to make any poor man rich who could break the spell.

Many had already gone in, but none had ever come out.

Next morning the youth went to the King, and said: By your leave, I should like to pass three nights in the enchanted castle.

The King looked at him, and, as he took a fancy to him, he said: You may ask three things to take into the castle with you, but they must be lifeless things.

He answered: Then I ask for a fire, a turning-lathe, and a cooper’s bench with the knife.

The King had all three carried into the castle for him.

When night fell, the youth went up to the castle and made a bright fire in one of the rooms. He put the cooper’s bench with the knife near the fire, and seated himself on the turning-lathe.

Oh, if only my flesh would creep, he said; but I shan’t learn it here either.

Towards midnight he wanted to make up the fire, and, as he was blowing it up, something in one corner began to shriek: Miau, miau, how cold we are!

You fools! he cried. What do you shriek for? If you are cold, come and warm yourselves by the fire.

As he spoke two big black cats bounded up and sat down, one on each side of him, and stared at him with wild, fiery eyes.

After a time, when they had warmed themselves, they said: Comrade, shall we have a game of cards?

Why not? he answered; but show me your paws first.

Then they stretched out their claws.

Why, he said, what long nails you’ve got. Wait a bit; I must cut them for you.

He seized them by the scruff of their necks, lifted them on to the cooper’s bench, and screwed their paws firmly to it.

I have looked at your fingers, and the desire to play cards with you has passed.

Then he struck them dead, and threw them out into the water.

But no sooner had he got rid of these two cats, and was about to sit down by his fire again, than crowds of black cats and dogs swarmed out of every corner, more and more of them.

They howled horribly, and trampled on his fire, and tried to put it out.

For a time he looked quietly on, but when it grew too bad he seized his cooper’s knife, and cried: Away with you, you rascally pack, and let fly among them right and left. Some of them sprang away, the others he struck dead, and threw them out into the pond.

When he came back, he scraped the embers of his fire together again, and warmed himself. He could hardly keep his eyes open, and felt the greatest desire to go to sleep. He looked round, and in one corner he saw a big bed.

That’s the very thing, he said, and lay down in it. As soon as he closed his eyes, the bed began to move, and soon it was tearing round and round the castle. Very good! he said. The faster the better! The bed rolled on as if it were dragged by six horses; over thresholds and stairs, up and down.

Suddenly it went hop, hop, hop, and turned topsy-turvy, so that it lay upon him like a mountain. But he pitched the pillows and blankets into the air, stepped out of it, and said: Now anyone may ride who likes.

Then he lay down by his fire and slept till daylight.

In the morning the King came, and when he saw him lying on the floor, he thought the ghosts had killed him, and he was dead. So he said: It’s a sad pity about that handsome fellow.

But the youth heard him, and sat up, saying: It has not come to that yet.

The King was surprised, but delighted, and asked him how he had got on.

Pretty well! he answered. One night is gone, I suppose I shall get through the others too.

When the landlord saw him he opened his eyes, and said: I never thought I should see you alive again. Have you learnt how to shiver now?

No, he answered; it’s all in vain. If only some one would tell me how.

The second night came, and up he went again and sat down by the fire and began his old song: Oh, if only I could learn to shiver.

At midnight, a great noise and uproar began, first soft, and then growing louder; then for a short time there would be silence.

At last, with a loud scream, half the body of a man fell down the chimney in front of him.

Hallo! he said, another half is wanting here; this is too little.

The noise began again, and, amidst shrieks and howls, the other half fell down.

Wait a bit, he said; I’ll blow up the fire.

When this was done, and he looked round, the two halves had come together, and a hideous man sat in his place.

We didn’t bargain for that, said the youth. The bench is mine.

The man wanted to push him out of the way, but the youth would not have it, flung him aside, and took his own seat.

Then more men fell down the chimney, one after the other, and they fetched nine human shin bones and two skulls, and began to play skittles.

The youth felt inclined to join them, and cried: I say, can I play too?

Yes, if you’ve got any money.

Money enough, he answered, but your balls aren’t quite round.

Then he took the skulls and turned them on the lathe till they were quite round. Now they will roll better, he said. Here goes! The more, the merrier!

So he played with them, and lost some money, but when it struck twelve everything disappeared. He lay down, and was soon fast asleep.

Next morning the King came again to look after him, and said: Well, how did you get on this time?

I played skittles, he answered, and lost a few coins.

Didn’t you learn to shiver?

Not I. I pnly made merry. Oh, if I could but find out how to shiver.

On the third night he again sat down on his bench, and said quite savagely: If only I could shiver!

When it grew late, six tall men came in, carrying a bier, and he said: Hallo there! That must be my cousin who died a few days ago. And he beckoned and said: Come along, cousin, come along.

The men put the coffin on the floor, and went up and took the lid off, and there lay a dead man. He felt the face, and it was as cold as ice. Wait, he said; I will warm him.

Then he went to the fire and warmed his hand, and laid it on his face, but the dead man remained cold. He took him out of the coffin, sat down by the fire, and took him on his knees, and rubbed his arms to make the blood circulate.

But it was all no good. Next, it came into his head that if two people were in bed together, they warmed each other. So he put the dead man in the bed, covered him up, and lay down beside him.

After a time the dead man grew warm, and began to move.

Then the youth said: There, you see, cousin mine, have I not warmed you?

But the man rose up, and cried: Now, I will strangle you! What! said he, are those all the thanks I get? Back you go into your coffin then. So saying, he lifted him up, threw him in, and fastened down the lid. Then the six men came back and carried the coffin away.

I cannot shiver, he said; and I shall never learn it here.

Just then a huge man appeared. He was frightful to look at, old, and with a long white beard.

Oh, you miserable wight! he cried. You shall soon learn what shivering is, for you shall die.

Not so fast! said the youth. If I am to die, I must be present.

I will make short work of you, said the old monster.

Softly! softly! don’t you boast. I am as strong as you, and very likely much stronger.

We shall see about that, said the old man. If you are the strongest, I will let you go. Come; we will try.

Then he led him through numberless dark passages to a smithy, took an axe, and with one blow struck one of the anvils into the earth.

I can better that, said the youth, and went to the other anvil. The old man placed himself near to see, and his white beard hung over.

Then the youth took the axe and split the anvil with one blow, catching in the old man’s beard at the same time.

Now, I have you fast, said the youth, and you will be the one to die.

Then he seized an iron rod, and belaboured the old man with it, till he shrieked for mercy, and promised him riches if he would stop.

Then the youth pulled out the axe and released him, and the old man led him back into the castle, and showed him three chests of gold in a cellar.

One is for the poor, he said, one for the King, and one for you.

The clock struck twelve, and the ghost disappeared, leaving the youth in the dark.

I must manage to get out somehow, he said and tapped about till he found his way back to his room, where he lay down by the fire and went to sleep.

Next morning the King came and said: Now you must have learnt how to shiver.

No, said he. What was it? My dead cousin was there, and an old man with a beard came and showed me a lot of gold. But what shivering with fear is, that no man can tell me.

Then said the King: You have broken the spell on the castle, and you shall marry my daughter.

That is all very well, he said; but still I don’t know what shivering is.

The gold was got out of the castle, and the marriage was celebrated, but, happy as the young King was, and much as he loved his wife, he was always saying: Oh, if only I could learn to shiver, if only I could learn to shiver.

At last his wife was vexed by it, and her waiting-woman said: I can help you; he shall be taught the meaning of shivering.

And she went out to the brook which ran through the garden and got a pail foll of cold water and little fishes.

At night, when the young King was asleep, his wife took the coverings off and poured the cold water over him, and all the little fishes flopped about him.

Then he woke up, and cried: Oh, how I am shivering, dear wife, how I am shivering! Now I know what shivering is!

The Wolf and the Seven Kids

THERE was once an old nanny-goat who had seven kids, and she was just as fond of them as a mother of her children. One day she was going into the woods to fetch some food for them, so she called them all up to her, and said–

My dear children, I am going out into the woods. Beware of the wolf! If once he gets into the house, he will eat you up, skin, and hair, and all. The rascal often disguises himself, but you will know him by his rough voice and his black feet.

The kids said, Oh, we will be very careful, dear mother. You may be quite happy about us.

Bleating tenderly, the old goat went off to her work. Before long, someone knocked at the door, and cried–

Open the door, dear children! Your mother has come back and brought something for each of you.

But the kids knew quite well by the voice that it was the wolf.

We won’t open the door, they cried. You are not our mother. She has a soft gentle voice; but yours is rough, and we are quite sure that you are the wolf.

So he went away to a shop and bought a lump of chalk, which he ate, and it made his voice quite soft. He went back, knocked at the door again, and cried–

Open the door, dear children. Your mother has come back and brought something for each of you.

But the wolf had put one of his paws on the window sill, where the kids saw it, and cried–

We won’t open the door. Our mother has not got a black foot as you have; you are the wolf.

Then the wolf ran to a baker, and said, I have bruised my foot; please put some dough on it. And when the baker had put some dough on his foot he ran to the miller and said, Strew some flour on my foot.

The miller thought, The old wolf is going to take somebody in, and refused.

But the wolf said, If you don’t do it, I will eat you up.

So the miller was frightened, and whitened his paws. People are like that, you know.

Now the wretch went for the third time to the door, and knocked, and said–

Open the door, children. Your dear mother has come home, and has brought something for each of you out of the wood.

The kids cried, Show us your feet first, that we may be sure you are our mother.

He put his paws on the window sill, and when they saw that they were white, they believed all he said, arid opened the door.

Alas! It was the wolf who walked in. They were terrified, and tried to hide themselves. One ran under the table, the second jumped into bed, the third into the oven, the fourth ran into the kitchen, the fifth got into the cupboard, the sixth into the wash-tub, and the seventh hid in the tall clock-case. But the wolf found them all but one, and made short work of them. He swallowed one after the other, except the youngest one, in the clock-case, whom he did not find. When he had satisfied his appetite, he took himself off, and lay down in a meadow outside, where he soon fell asleep.

Not long after the old nanny-goat came back from the woods. Oh! what a terrible sight met her eyes! The house door was wide open, table, chairs, and benches were overturned, the washing-bowl was smashed to atoms, the covers and pillows torn from the bed. She searched all over the house for her children, but nowhere were they to be found. She called them by name, one by one, but no one answered. At last, when she came to the youngest, a tiny voice cried: I am here, dear mother, hidden in the clock-case.

She brought him out, and he told her that the wolf had come and devoured all the others.

You may imagine how she wept over her children.

At last in her grief, she went out, and the youngest kid ran by her side. When they went into the meadow, there lay the wolf under a tree, making the branches shake with his snores.