THE SLEEPING PRINCESS

   Once upon a time there was a Queen who had a beautiful baby daughter. She
asked all the fairies in the kingdom to the christening, but unfortunately
forgot to invite one of them, who was a bit of a witch as well. She came
anyway, but as she passed the baby's cradle, she said:
   "When you are sixteen, you will injure yourself with a spindle and die!"
   "Oh, no!" screamed the Queen in horror. A good fairy quickly chanted a
magic spell to change the curse. When she hurt herself, the girl would fall
into a very deep sleep instead of dying.
   The years went by, the little Princess grew and became the most beautiful
girl in the whole kingdom. Her mother was always very careful to keep her away
from spindles, but the Princess, on her sixteenth birthday, as she wandered
through the castle, came into a room where an old servant was spinning.
   "What are you doing?" she asked the servant.
   "I'm spinning. Haven't you seen a spindle before?"
   "No. Let me see it!" The servant handed the girl the spindle ... and she
pricked herself with it and. with a sigh, dropped to the floor.
   The terrified old woman hurried to tell the Queen. Beside herself with
anguish, the Queen did her best to awaken her daughter but in vain. The court
doctors and wizards were called, but there was nothing they could do. The girl
could not be wakened from her deep sleep. The good fairy who managed to avoid
the worst of the curse came too, and the Queen said to her,
   "When will my daughter waken?"
   "I don't know," the fairy admitted sadly.
   "In a year's time, ten years or twenty?" the Queen went on.
   "Maybe in a hundred years' time. Who knows?" said the fairy.
   "Oh! What would make her waken?" asked the Queen weeplng.
   "Love," replied the fairy. "If a man of pure heart were to fall in love
with her, that would bring her back to life!"
   "How can a man fall in love with a sleeping girl?" sobbed the Queen, and so
heart-broken was she that, a few days later, she died. The sleeping Princess
was taken to her room and laid on the bed surrounded by garlands of flowers.
She was so beautiful, with a sweet face, not like those of the dead, but pink
like those who are sleeping peacefully. The good fairy said to herself,
   "When she wakens, who is she going to see around her? Strange faces and
people she doesn't know? I can never let that happen. It would be too painful
for this unfortunate girl."
   So the fairy cast a spell; and everyone that lived in the castle -
soldiers, ministers, guards, servants, ladies, pages, cooks, maids and
knights - all fell into a deep sleep, wherever they were at that very moment.
   "Now," thought the fairy, "when the Princess wakes up, they too will
awaken, and life will go on from there." And she left the castle, now wrapped
in silence. Not a sound was to be heard, nothing moved except for the clocks,
but when they too ran down, they stopped, and time stopped with them. Not even
the faintest rustle was to be heard, only the wind whistling round the
turrets, not a single voice, only the cry of birds.
   The years sped past. In the castle grounds, the trees grew tall. The bushes
became thick and straggling, the grass invaded the courtyards and the creepers
spread up the walls. In a hundred years, a dense forest grew up.
   Now, it so happened that a Prince arrived in these parts. He was the son of
a king in a country close by. Young, handsome and melancholy, he sought in
solitude everything he could not find in the company of other men: serenity,
sincerity and purity. Wandering on his trusty steed he arrived, one day, at
the dark forest. Being adventurous, he decided to explore it. He made his way
through slowly and with a struggle, for the trees and bushes grew in a thick
tangle. A few hours later, now losing heart, he was about to turn his horse
and go back when he thought he could see something through the trees . . . He
pushed back the branches . . . Wonder of wonders! There in front of him stood
a castle with high towers. The young man stood stock still in amazement,
   "I wonder who this castle belongs to?" he thought.
   The young Prince rode on towards the castle. The drawbridge was down and,
holding his horse by the reins, he crossed over it. Immediately he saw the
inhabitants draped all over the steps, the halls and courtyards, and said to
himself,
   "Good heavens! They're dead!" But in a moment, he realised that they were
sound asleep. "Wake up! Wake up!" he shouted, but nobody moved. Still
thoroughly astonished, he went into the castle and again discovered more
people, lying fast asleep on the floor. As though led by a hand in the
complete silence, the Prince finally reached the room where the beautiful
Princess lay fast asleep. For a long time he stood gazing at her face, so full
of serenity, so peaceful, lovely and pure, and he felt spring to his heart
that love he had always been searching for and never found. Overcome by
emotion, he went close, lifted the girl's little white hand and gently kissed
it . . .
   At that kiss, the prlncess qulckly opened her eyes, and wakening from her
long long sleep, seeing the Prince beside her, murmured:
   "Oh, you have come at last! I was waiting for you in my dream. I've waited
so long!"
   Just then, the spell was broken. The Princess rose to her feet, holding out
her hand to the Prince. And the whole castle woke up too. Everybody rose to
their feet and they all stared round in amazement, wondering what had
happened. When they finally realised, they rushed to the Princess, more
beautiful and happier then ever.
   A few days later, the castle that only a short time before had lain in
silence, now rang with the sound of singing, music and happy laughter at the
great party given in honour of the Prince and Princess, who were getting
married. They lived happily ever after, as they always do in fairy tales, not
quite so often, however, in real life.

.

TIL ULENSPIGHEL

   Once upon a time there lived a little boy called Til Ulenspighel. His
father was a good blacksmith, his mother a kindly woman but they never
imagined that they had brought into the world naughtiest rascal ever heard of!
Til had such a lively personality, bright and naughty, that people couldn't
help smiling when they saw him. And he got up to such mischief and all sorts
of tricks that we can't help smiling to ourselves . . . But as you'll soon
see, the ones who didn't see the funny side of things were his fellow
citizens. The minute he learned to speak, Til pulled people's legs. If a man,
for instance, had flat feet, Til would greet him by saying,
   "Good day, Mr. Flatfeet!" And if a lady had a red nose, he would say, "Good
evening, Mrs. Rednose!" He enjoyed playing tricks and teasing everyone. Of
course, the neighbours complained to his father, saying,
   "Mr. Ulenspighel, what a rude son you have!" And so, one day, Til's father
said to him,
   "Listen, son, why don't people like you? Do you annoy them?"
   "Who, me?" said Til with an innocent air. "I never bother anyone. It's
other people that shake their fists at me whenever they see me and say nasty
things."
   "Hmm!" said his father. "I wonder if that's really so. l'm going to market
with the donkey. Get up behind!" Till didn't need to be told twice and he
clambered behind his father.
   But the second he was on the donkey's back, he hung a notice on his
shoulders on which he had written: 'Whoever reads this is a donkey.' People
did read it and they were offended, so they shook their fists and shouted,
"Oh, you horrid boy, Til! What a little horror you are!" On hearing these
shouts, Til's father, who knew nothing about the notice, muttered:
   "You're right, Til. People are angry with you, though goodness knows why!
Don't worry," he added, "come and sit in front and we'll see if they still
call you names." Til did as he was told and slung the notice over his chest.
Though his father couldn't see it, he could see other people as they shook
their fists, scowled, shouted and yelled insults, and he said, "Folk don't
like you, Til. But pay no attention to them and go your own way!" And Til
laughed up his sleeve....
   Time went by and Til began to weary of long faces every time people saw
him. He joked and teased folk now and again, but what harm was there in that?
All he wanted to do was amuse himself and others as well. One day, a company
of wandering entertainers came to the town: actors, sword swallowers and
acrobats. They made a great impression on the lad, who stared at them
open-mouthed. While holding a pole in their hands, they kept their balance as
they walked the tightrope across the road. How he would love to do the same.
The people who now shook their fists at him would clap their hands. No sooner
thought than done, the boy picked up a pole, stretched a rope between two
trees in the wood and started to practise. Of course, it wasn't easy and he
fell more than once. But in the end, he felt pretty secure and decided to hold
a show. He went through the streets crying,
   "Tomorrow, Til Ulenspighel, the acrobat, will walk the tightrope!" Filled
with curiosity, everyone came to watch.
   Til had stretched the rope between his balcony and a tree in the nearby
wood: the rope lay above the river and the young lad climbed on. The crowd
that, at first had laughed and made a noise, grew quiet after a while, and
were impressed:
   "He's clever all right," someone said. "He's a real acrobat," said someone
else. "We were wrong about him!"
   At that moment, Til's mother, who knew nothing about her son's gymnastics,
hearing the murmur of the crowd, went onto the balcony . . . and saw her son
walking the rope suspended over empty space. Frightened, she shouted,
   "Til, come down at once!" And seeing that the boy was not doing as he was
told, she picked up the scissors and cut the rope. Til fell with a splash into
the river. You can imagine the people! First they started to laugh, snigger
and make fun of the poor lad as he struggled soaking from the water.
   "Hey, acrobat! If that had been the ground instead of water, you'd have had
a cracked head, wouldn't you?" they called, chuckling, and Til said to
himself, "Laugh if you want to, he who laughs last laughs longest! . . ."
   Some days later, Til announced he was going to repeat the show, this time
not over the river but above the main road. Everyone rushed to watch, hoping
to see him fall off and hurt himself. Before he ventured on to the rope, Til
called out, "To make it more difficult for me, I'm going to carry a sack on my
back. Every spectator will give me his left shoe. I'll put it in the sack and
hand it back at the end of the show." Everyone did this. Til walked the
tightrope until he reached the middle of the road, and from the heights he
said, "Now I'm going to give vou back your shoes. There they are!" and opening
the sack, he emptied out the shoes.
   You can picture the confusion that reigned then. Not only did the onlookers
get hit on the head by shoes, but everyone hunted for his own shoe without
managing to find it; he'd pick one up, but it belonged to somebody else, and
he'd throw it down again, and start to look for another, argue, exchange
insults . . . and Til, from a window on high looked down on the pandemonium
and chuckling said,
   "Ha! He who laughs last laughs longest!"
.

THE STORY OF THUMBELINA

   Once upon atime . . . there lived a woman who had no children. She dreamed
of having a little girl, but time went by, and her dream never came true.
   She then went to visit a witch, who gave her a magic grain of barley. She
planted it in a flower pot. And the very next day, the grain had turned into a
lovely flower, rather like a tulip. The woman softly kissed its half-shut
petals. And as though by magic, the flower opened in full blossom. Inside sat
a tiny girl, no bigger than a thumb. The woman called her Thumbelina. For a
bed she had a walnut shell, violet petals for her mattress and a rose petal
blanket. In the daytime, she played in a tulip petal boat, floating on a plate
of water. Using two horse hairs as oars, Thumbelina sailed around her little
lake, singing and singing in a gentle sweet voice.
   Then one night, as she lay fast asleep in her walnut shell, a large frog
hopped through a hole in the window pane. As she gazed down at Thumbelina, she
said to herself: "How pretty she is! She'd make the perfect bride for my own
dear son!"
   She picked up Thumbelina, walnut shell and all, and hopped into the garden.
Nobody saw her go.Back at the pond, her fat ugly son, who always did as mother
told him, was pleased with her choice. But mother frog was afraid that her
pretty prisoner might run away. So she carried Thumbellna out to a water lily
leaf ln the middle of the pond.
   "She can never escape us now," said the frog to her son.
   "And we have plenty of time to prepare a new home for you and your bride."
Thumbelina was left all alone. She felt so desperate. She knew she would never
be able to escape the fate that awaited her with the two horrid fat frogs. All
she could do was cry her eyes out. However, one or two minnows who had been
enjoying the shade below the water lily leaf, had overheard the two frogs
talking, and the little girl's bitter sobs. They decided to do something about
it. So they nibbled away at the lily stem till it broke and drifted away in
the weak current. A dancing butterfly had an idea: "Throw me the end of your
belt! I'll help you to move a little faster!" Thumbelina gratefully did so,
and the leaf soon floated away from the frog pond.
   But other dangers lay ahead. A large beetle snatched Thumbelina with his
strong feet and took her away to his home at the top of a leafy tree.
   "Isn't she pretty?" he said to his friends. But they pointed out that she
was far too different. So the beetle took her down the tree and set her free.
   It was summertime, and Thumbelina wandered all by herself amongst the
flowers and through the long grass. She had pollen for her meals and drank the
dew. Then the rainy season came, bringing nastyweather. The poor child found
it hard to find food and shelter. When winter set in, she suffered from the
cold and felt terrible pangs of hunger.
   One day, as Thumbelina roamed helplessly over the bare meadows, she met a
large spider who promised to help her. He took her to a hollow tree and
guarded the door with a stout web. Then he brought her some dried chestnuts
and called his friends to come and admire her beauty. But just like the
beetles, all the other spiders persuaded Thumbelina's rescuer to let her go.
Crying her heart out, and quite certain that nobody wanted her because she was
ugly, Thumbelina left the spider's house.
   As she wandered, shivering with the cold, suddenly she came across a solid
little cottage, made of twigs and dead leaves. Hopefully, she knocked on the
door. It was opened by a field mouse.
   "What are you doing outside in this weather?" he asked. "Come in and warm
yourself." Comfortable and cozy, the field mouse's home was stocked with food.
For her keep, Thumbelina did the housework and told the mouse stories. One
day, the field mouse said a friend was coming to visit them.
   "He's a very rich mole, and has a lovely house. He wears a splendid black
fur coat, but he's dreadfully shortsighted. He needs company and he'd like to
marry you!" Thumbelina did not relish the idea. However, when the mole came,
she sang sweetly to him and he fell head over heels in love. The mole invited
Thumbelina and the field mouse to visit him, but . . . to their surprise and
horror, they came upon a swallow in the tunnel. It looked dead. Mole nudged it
wi his foot, saying: "That'll teach her! She should have come underground
instead of darting about the sky all summer!" Thumbelina was so shocked by
such cruel words that later, she crept back unseen to the tunnel.
   And every day, the little girl went to nurse the swallow and tenderly give
it food.
   In the meantime, the swallow told Thumbelina its tale. Jagged by a thorn,
it had been unable to follow its companions to a warmer climate.
   "It's kind of you to nurse me," it told Thumbelina. But, in spring, the
swallow flew away, after offering to take the little girl with it. All summer,
Thumbelina did her best to avoid marrying the mole. The little girl thought
fearfully of how she'd have to live underground forever. On the eve of her
wedding, she asked to spend a day in the open air. As she gently fingered a
flower, she heard a familiar song: "Winter's on its way and I'll be off to
warmer lands. Come with me!" Thumbelina quickly clung to her swallow friend,
and the bird soared into the sky. They flew over plains and hills till they
reached a country of flowers. The swallow gently laid Thumbelina in a blossom.
There she met a tiny, white-winged fairy: the King of the Flower Fairies.
Instantly, he asked her to marry him. Thumbelina eagerly said "yes", and
sprouting tiny white wings, she became the Flower Queen!
.

GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

   Once upon a time . . . in a large forest, close to a village, stood the
cottage where the Teddy Bear family lived. They were not really proper Teddy
Bears, for Father Bear was very big, Mother Bear was middling in size, and
only Baby Bear could be described as a Teddy Bear.
   Each bear had its own size of bed. Father Bear's was large and nice and
comfy. Mother Bear's bed was middling in size, while Baby Bear had a fine
little cherrywood bed that Father Bear had ordered from a couple of beaver
friends.
   Beside the fireplace, around which the family sat in the evenings, stood a
large carved chair for the head of the house, a delightful blue velvet
armchair for Mother Bear, and a very little chair for Baby Bear.
   Neatly laid out on the kitchen table stood three china bowls. A large one
for Father Bear, a smaller one for Mother Bear, and a little bowl for Baby
Bear.
   The neighbours were all very respectful to Father Bear and people raised
their hats when he went by. Father Bear liked that and he always politely
replied to their greetings. Mother Bear had lots of friends. She visited them
in the afternoons to exchange good advice and recipes for jam and bottled
fruit. Baby Bear, however, had hardly any friends. This was partly because he
was rather a bully and liked to win games and arguments. He was a pest too and
always getting into mischief. Not far away, lived a fair-haired little girl
who had a similar nature to Baby Bear, only she was haughty and stuck-up as
well, and though Baby Bear often asked her to come and play at his house, she
always said no.
   One day, Mother Bear made a nice pudding. It was a new recipe, with
blueberries and other crushed berries. Her friends told her it was delicious.
When it was ready, she said to the family:
   "It has to be left to cool now, otherwise it won't taste nice. That will
take at least an hour. Why don't we go and visit the Beavers' new baby? Mummy
Beaver will be pleased to see us." Father Bear and Baby Bear would much rather
have tucked into the pudding, warm or not, but they liked the thought of
visiting the new baby.
   'We must wear our best clothes, even for such a short visit. Everyone at
the Beavers' will be very busy now, and we must not stay too long!" And so
they set off along the pathway towards the river bank. A short time later, the
stuck-up little girl, whose name was Goldilocks, passed by the Bears' house as
she picked flowers.
   "Oh, what an ugly house the Bears have!" said Goldilocks to herself as she
went down the hill. "I'm going to peep inside! It won't be beautiful like my
house, but I'm dying to see where Baby Bear lives.' Knock! Knock! The little
girl tapped on the door. Knock! Knock! Not a sound...
   "Surely someone will hear me knocking," Goldilocks said herself,
impatiently. "Anyone at home?" she called, peering round the door. Then she
went into the empty house and started to explore the kitchen.
   "A pudding!" she cried, dipping her finger into the pudding Mother Bear had
left to cool. "Quite nice!" she murmured, spooning it from  Baby Bear's bowl.
In a twinkling, the bowl lay empty on a messy table. With a full tummy,
Goldilocks went on exploring.
   "Now then, this must be Father Bear's chair, this will be Mother Bear's,
and this one . . . must belong to my friend, Baby Bear. I'll just sit on it a
while!" With these words, Goldilocks sat herself down onto the little chair
which, quite unused to such a sudden weight, promptly broke a leg. Goldilocks
crashed to the floor, but not in the least dismayed by the damage she had done,
she went upstalrs.                                                     '~
   There was no mistaklng which was Baby Bear's bed.
   "Mm! Quite comfy!" she said, I bouncing on it. "Not as nice as mine, but
nearly! Then she yawned. I think I'll lie down, only for a minute . . . just
to try the bed." And in next to no time, Goldilocks lay fast asleep in Baby
Bear's bed. In the meantime, the Bears weer on their way home.
   "Wasn't the new Beaver baby ever so small?" said Baby Bear to his mother.
Was I as tiny as that when I was born?"
   "Not quite, but almost," came the reply, with a fond caress. From a
distance, Father Bear noticed the door was ajar.
    "Hurry!" he cried. "Someone is in our house . . ." Was Father Bear hungry
or did a thought strike him? Anyway, he dashed into the kitchen. "I knew it!
Somebody has gobbled up the pudding..."
   "Someone has been jumping up and down on my armchair!" complained Mother
Bear.
   ". . . and somebody's broken my chair!" wailed Baby Bear.
   Where could the culprit be? They all ran upstairs and tiptoed in amazement
over to Baby Bear's bed. In it lay Goldilocks, sound asleep. Baby Bear prodded
her toe...
   "Who's that? Where am I?" shrieked the little girl, waking with a start.
Taking fright at the scowling faces bending over her, she clutched the
bedclothes up to her chin. Then she jumped out of bed and fled down the
stairs.
   "Get away! Away from that house!" she told herself as she ran, forgetful of
all the trouble she had so unkindly caused. But Baby Bear called from the
door, waving his arm:
   "Don't run away! Come back! I forgive you... come and play wlth me!"
   And this is how it all ended. From that day onwards, haughty rude
Goldilocks became a pleasant little girl. She made friends with Baby Bear and
often went to his house. She invited him to her house too, and they remained
good friends, always.
.

THE MAGIC TINDERBOX

   Once upon a time . . . a brave soldier returned from the wars. In spite of
his courage, his pockets were empty and hls only possession was his sword. As
he walked through a forest, he met a witch, who said to him: "I say, good
soldier, would you like to earn a bag of money?"
   "Money? I'd do anything for money . . ."
   "Good!" went on the witch. "It won't be difficult, you'll see! All you have
to do is go down that hollow tree till you reach a cave. There, you'll find
three doorways. When you open the first door, you'll see a big dog with eyes
like saucers, guarding a large chest of copper coins. Behind the second door
lies a treasure of silver coins, guarded by a dog with eyes the size of mill
stones. When you open the third door, you'll come upon another dog, with eyes
the size of a castle tower, beside a treasure of gold. Now, if you lay this
old apron of mine before these dogs, they'll crouch on it and do you no harm.
You'll be able to carry away all the coins you want. What do think of that?"
   However, the soldier suspiciously asked: "What do you want in return?"
   "Just bring me back an old tinderbox my grandfather left down there, long
ago!"
   So the young soldier tied a rope round his waist and, not forgetting his
trusty sword, he lowered himself into the hollow tree. To his great surprise,
he found the three doorways and the three dogs, just as the witch had said.
Soon he was back, his pockets bulging with coins, but before he handed the
tinderbox to the old witch, he asked her: "What do you want it for?"
   The witch hurled herself at the soldier, screaming: "Give it to me! Give it
to me at once, or else . . .", as she tried to scratch him. When the witch
attacked him, the soldier exclaimed: "Aha! So this is the thanks I get! Now
I'll show you!"
   He undid the rope from around his waist and tied up the old woman. Then
away he went, whistling cheerfully.
   When he reached the town, he said to himself: "Now I can feast as much as I
 like - at last!"
   After years of scrimping on a miserable pay, with his sudden wealth, the
soldier felt like a prince. He bought a new pair of boots and he went to the
best tailor in the town. Some days later, he was clad in a fine new uniform
and people turned in the street to admire him. Lavish with his money, the
soldier was surrounded by folk quick to tell him how to spend his coins, and
it all went on a round of dances, fine carriages, theatres and, most of all,
on drinking sprees. Of course, his money soon ran out and when this happened,
his "friends" vanished. When the innkeeper discovered that the soldier could
no longer pay his board, he rudely put him out. So the poor soldier ended up
in a garret and every day he had to draw in his belt a little more. All the
fun was over.
   One evening, he realized he had never used the old witch's tinderbox. So he
rubbed it, and as it sparked, the dog with the eyes like saucers suddenly
appeared.
   "Tell me your wish, sir," it said.
   ". . . bring me heaps of money!" gasped the soldier in amazement. A second
later, the dog was back with a bag of coins. Every time he rubbed the
tinderbox, the dog brought him more money. Then when he rubbed it quickly
twice in succession, the dog with eyes like mill stones stood before him,
carrying silver coins. And when the soldier rubbed the tinderbox three times
in a row, the third dog came carrying gold. Rich all over again, the soldier
chose the best hotel in the town and went back to leading the life of a fine
gentleman.
   The soldier was told that the King would not allow anyone to meet his
beatufil daughter, for he believed in a saying that the Princess's destiny was
to marry a slmple soldler. That evening, the soldier rubbed the tinderbox.
   "Bring me the Princess," was his new order. Immediately the dog returned
with the beautiful Princess, fast asleep. The soldier kissed her. Next
morning, the girl told her parents that she had had a dream. But the Queen,
suspiciously ordered one of the ladies-in-waiting to guard her daughter day
and night. The dog was seen when it came next evening and the alarm raised.
The king's guards followed the dog and the soldier was arrested at dawn.
   The King's revenge was terrible: the soldier was to be hanged!
   In a dark prison, the soldier calmly awaited his fate. When the day of
execution came, a mob crushed round the scaffold.
   The soldier asked if he could smoke his pipe, and placed it between his
lips, as he rubbed the tinderbox over and over again. In a flash, the three
dogs appeared with gaping jaws and bloodshot eyes. At the soldier's sharp
command, they leapt on the guards and the crowd cheered in delight.
   Awestruck at this magic feat, the King bowed his head and whispered to the
Queen. "The saying is true!" he said. A little while after, the young soldier
married the Princess and the tinderbox was rubbed and rubbed, but this time to
 invite the three dogs to the splendid wedding.                                        I
.

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

   Once upon a time . . . in the middle of a thick forest stood a small
cottage, the home of a pretty little girl known to everyone as Little Red
Riding Hood. One day, her Mummy waved her goodbye at the garden gate, saying:
"Grandma is ill. Take her this basket of cakes, but be very careful. Keep to
the path through the wood and don't ever stop. That way, you will come to no
harm."
   Little Red Riding Hood kissed her mother and ran off. "Don't worry,' she
said, "I'll run all the way to Grandma's without stopping."
   Full of good intentions, the little girl made her way through the wood, but
she was soon to forget her mother's wise words. "What lovely strawberries! And
so red . . ."
   Laying her basket on the ground, Little Red Riding Hood bent over the
strawberry plants. "They're nice and ripe, and so big! Yummy! Delicious! Just
another one. And one more. This is the last . . . Well, this one . . . Mmmm."
   The red fruit peeped invitingly through the leaves in the grassy glade, and
Little Red Riding Hood ran back and forth popping strawberries into her mouth.
Suddenly she remembered her mother, her promise, Grandma and the basket . . .
and hurried back towards the path. The basket was still in the grass and,
humming to herself, Little Red Riding Hood walked on.
   The wood became thicker and thicker. Suddenly a yellow butterfly fluttered
down through the trees. Little Red Riding Hood started to chase the butterfly.
   "I'll catch you! I'll catch you!" she called. Suddenly she saw some large
daisies in the grass.
   "Oh, how sweet!" she exclaimed and, thinking of Grandma, she picked a large
bunch of flowers.
   In the meantime, two wicked eyes were spying on her from behind a tree . .
a strange rustling in the woods made Little Red Riding Hood's heart thump.
   Now quite afraid she said to herself. "I must find the path and run away
from here!"
   At last she reached the path again but her heart leapt into her mouth at
 the sound of a gruff voice which said: "Where ' . . are you going, my pretty
girl, all alone in the woods?"
   "I'm taking Grandma some cakes. She lives at the end of the path," said
Little Riding Hood in a faint voice.
   When he heard this, the wolf (for it was the big bad wolf himself) politely
asked: "Does Grandma live by herself?"
   "Oh, yes," replied Little Red Riding Hood, "and she never opens the door to
strangers!"
   "Goodbye. Perhaps we'll meet again," replied the wolf. Then he loped away
thinking to himself "I'll gobble the grandmother first, then lie in wait for
the grandchild!" At last, the cottage came in sight. Knock! Knock! The wolf
rapped on the door.                                                         --~   "Who's there?" cried Grandma from her bed.
   "It's me, Little Red Riding Hood. I've brought you some cakes because
you're ill," replied the wolf, trying hard to hide his gruff voice.
   "Lift the latch and come in," said Grandma, unaware of anything amiss, till
a horrible shadow appeared on the wall. Poor Grandma! For in one bound, the
wolf leapt across the room and, in a single mouthful, swallowed the old lady.
Soon after, Little Red Riding Hood tapped on the door.
   "Grandma, can I come in?" she called.
   Now, the wolf had put on the old lady's shawl and cap and slipped into the
bed. Trying to imitate Grandma's quavering little voice, he replied: "Open the latch and come in!
   "What a deep voice you have," said the little girl in surpnse.
   "The better to greet you with," said the wolf.
   "Goodness, what big eyes you have."
   "The better to see you with."
   "And what big hands you have!" exclaimed Little Red Riding Hood, stepping
over to the bed.
   "The better to hug you with," said the wolf.
   "What a big mouth you have," the little girl murmured in a weak voice.
   "The better to eat you with!" growled the wolf, and jumping out of bed, he
swallowed her up too. Then, with a fat full tummy, he fell fast asleep.
   In the meantime, a hunter had emerged from the wood, and on noticing the
cottage, he decided to stop and ask for a drink. He had spent a lot of time
trying to catch a large wolf that had been terrorizing the neighbourhood, but
had lost its tracks. The hunter could hear a strange whistling sound; it
seemed to be coming from inside the cottage. He peered through the window ...
and saw the large wolf himself, with a fat full tummy, snoring away in
Grandma's bed.
   "The wolf! He won't get away this time!"
   Without making a sound, the hunter carefully loaded his gun and gently
opened the window. He pointed the barrel straight at the wolf's head and . . .
BANG! The wolf was dead.
   "Got you at last!" shouted the hunter in glee. "You'll never frighten
anyone agaln.
   He cut open the wolf's stomach and to his amazement, out popped Grandma and
Little Red Riding Hood, safe and unharmed.
   "You arrived just in time," murmured the old lady, quite overcome by all
the excitement.                                     ~
   "It's safe to go home now," the hunter told Little Red Riding Hood. "The
big bad wolf is dead and gone, and there is no danger on the path.
   Still scared, the little girl hugged her grandmother. Oh, what a dreadful
fright!"
   Much later, as dusk was falling, Little Red Riding Hood's mother arrived,
all out of breath, worried because her llttle girl had not come home. And when
she saw Little Red Riding Hood, safe and sound, she burst into tears of joy.
   After thanking the hunter again, Little Red Rldlng Hood and her mother set
off towards the wood. As they walked quickly through the trees, the little
girl told her mother: "We must always keep to the path and never stop. That
way, we come to no harm!"
.

THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN KIDS

   Once upon a time . . . a Mother Goat lived in a pretty little house with
her seven kids. Mother often had to leave home to do the shopping, and on that
fateful day, she had given her children the usual warnings, before setting off
to market.
   "You mustn't open the door to anyone. Don't forget, there's a wicked wolf
lurking about here. It's black, with horrible paws and a nasty deep voice. If
it knocks, keep the door tightly shut!" Mother Goat's words were wise indeed,
for as she was telling one of her neighbours about her fears, the wolf
disguised as a peasant was hiding close by, listening to every word.
   "Good! Very good!" said the wolf to himself."If the goat goes market, I'II
drop by her house and gobble the kids!' Then,trying not to look too
conspicuous, the wolf hurried along to the goat's house. There, he threw off
his disguise. He then growled in a deep voice: "Open the door! Open the door!
It's Mother! I've just come back from market! Open the door!" When the kids
heard the deep voice, they remembered their mother's warning. From behind the
barred door, they said to the wolf: "We know who you are! You're the wolf! Our
mother has a sweet gentle voice, not a deep nasty one like yours! Go away!
We'll never open the door to you!"
   And though the wolf banged furiously on the door, the kids, though
trembling with terror, refused to let him into the house, and so the door
remained shut. Then the wolf had a brainwave. He dashed off to the baker's and
got a big cake dripping with honey. He hoped this would sweeten his voice. And
in fact, after eating it, his voice didn't sound quite so deep. Over and over
again, he practised imitating Mother Goat's voice. You see, he'd heard it in
the woods. When he felt certain he could easily be mistaken for Mother Goat
herself, he rushed back to the house and the seven kids.
   "Open the door! Open the door! It's Mother! I've just come back from
market! Open the door!" he called. This time, the kids had doubts: the voice
did rather sound like mother's, and they were about to unlock the door, when
the black kid suspiciously cried: "Mother, let us see your foot!" Without
thinking, the wolf raised a black hairy paw. And the kids knew that the wolf
had come back.
   "You're not our mother! She doesn't have horrid black paws!" cried the
kids. "Go away, you wicked wolf!"
   And once more, in spite of all his hard work, the wolf found the door
locked against him. The wolf ran down to the mlll, and found a sack of flour.
He thrust his paws into it until they were pure white.
   "I'll trick them this time," he said. "Mmm! My mouth's watering already!
I'm hungry! My tummy's empty and my trousers are falling off! I'll swallow
these tender kids whole!" Again he knocked on the door.
   "Open the door! Open the door! It's Mother! I've just come back from
market! Open the door!" The voice seemed exactly like mother's, but the wary
kids quickly called out: "Mother, let us see your foot!" The wily wolf lifted
a snow white paw, and the kids, now reassured, threw open the door. What a
shock they received! An enormous set of jaws with sharp fangs growled
fiercely. Cruel claws reached out for their prey. The kids scattered in
terror. One dived under the table, while other crawled below the bed. Another
kid hid in the cupboard and one tried to hide in the oven, though the stove
was still hot. One kid crouched inside a barrel and one hid in the grandfather
clock. There he huddled, holding his breath, as the wolf hunted down his
brothers. One by one, the kids were pulled from their hiding places. All
except for the kid in the clock. The wicked wolf's appetite did not pass until
he had found them and swallowed each in a single gulp.
   The only one to escape was the little black kid, for the wolf never
imagined that there was room for a kid inside the very narrow grandfather
clock. In the meantime, Mother Goat had really come back from market.  When,
from a distance, she noticed that the door was ajar, she rushed home, her
heart in her mouth. She had a sinking feeling: what she feared had really
happened. The wicked wolf had gobbled up all her children. She dropped into a
chair, sobbing bitterly, but as she cried, the door of the grandfather clock
swung open and out ran the black kid.
   "Mummy! Mummy!" wept the kid. "It was terrible! The wolf came, and I think
he's eaten all my brothers!"
   "My poor child!" sobbed Mother Goat. "You're the only one left! That evil
brute has gobbled them all!"
   Not long after, Mother Goat and her son left the house to take a stroll in
the garden. Suddenly, she heard a low wheezing sound: someone was snoring
heavily. It was the greedy wolf. His feast of kids had been too much for him
and he was fast asleep, dead to the world. In a flash, Mother Goat had a
brainwave. She said to her son: "Run and fetch me a needle and thread and a
pair of scissors!" With these, she swiftly slit open the wolf's stomach. As
she had hoped, the ravenous brute had swallowed every kid whole. There they
were all stlll alive alive inside his tummy. One by one, out they popped from
the wolf's tummy.
   "Hurry! Hurry! Not a sound! We must get away before he wakens up! Wait!
Fetch me a heap of stones!" And so they filled the wolf's stomach with stones
and stitched it up again. The wolf woke later with a raging thirst.
   "What a heavy tummy I have!" he said. "I've eaten too much! All these
kids!" But when he went down the river to drink, his tummy full of stones
tipped him over and he fell into the water. The weight took him straight to
the bottom, and the goat and her kids shrieked with joy as he sank. The
wicked wolf was dead and the kids trotted home happily with Mother.
.