'Oh! grandmother,' she said, 'what big ears you have!'

'The better to hear you with, my child,' was the reply.

'But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!' she said.

'The better to see you with, my dear.'

'But, grandmother, what large hands you have!'

'The better to hug you with.'

'Oh! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!'

'The better to eat you with!'

And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was out of
bed and swallowed up Red-Cap.

When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed,
fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The huntsman was just
passing the house, and thought to himself: 'How the old woman is
snoring! I must just see if she wants anything.' So he went into the
room, and when he came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying in
it. 'Do I find you here, you old sinner!' said he. 'I have long sought
you!' Then just as he was going to fire at him, it occurred to him
that the wolf might have devoured the grandmother, and that she might
still be saved, so he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and
began to cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made
two snips, he saw the little Red-Cap shining, and then he made two
snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying: 'Ah, how
frightened I have been! How dark it was inside the wolf'; and after
that the aged grandmother came out alive also, but scarcely able to
breathe. Red-Cap, however, quickly fetched great stones with which
they filled the wolf's belly, and when he awoke, he wanted to run
away, but the stones were so heavy that he collapsed at once, and fell
dead.

Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf's skin
and went home with it; the grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine
which Red-Cap had brought, and revived, but Red-Cap thought to
herself: 'As long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to
run into the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.'



It also related that once when Red-Cap was again taking cakes to the
old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to entice her
from the path. Red-Cap, however, was on her guard, and went straight
forward on her way, and told her grandmother that she had met the
wolf, and that he had said 'good morning' to her, but with such a
wicked look in his eyes, that if they had not been on the public road
she was certain he would have eaten her up. 'Well,' said the
grandmother, 'we will shut the door, that he may not come in.' Soon
afterwards the wolf knocked, and cried: 'Open the door, grandmother, I
am Little Red-Cap, and am bringing you some cakes.' But they did not
speak, or open the door, so the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round
the house, and at last jumped on the roof, intending to wait until
Red-Cap went home in the evening, and then to steal after her and
devour her in the darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his
thoughts. In front of the house was a great stone trough, so she said
to the child: 'Take the pail, Red-Cap; I made some sausages yesterday,
so carry the water in which I boiled them to the trough.' Red-Cap
carried until the great trough was quite full. Then the smell of the
sausages reached the wolf, and he sniffed and peeped down, and at last
stretched out his neck so far that he could no longer keep his footing
and began to slip, and slipped down from the roof straight into the
great trough, and was drowned. But Red-Cap went joyously home, and no
one ever did anything to harm her again.



THE ROBBER BRIDEGROOM

There was once a miller who had one beautiful daughter, and as she was
grown up, he was anxious that she should be well married and provided
for. He said to himself, 'I will give her to the first suitable man
who comes and asks for her hand.' Not long after a suitor appeared,
and as he appeared to be very rich and the miller could see nothing in
him with which to find fault, he betrothed his daughter to him. But
the girl did not care for the man as a girl ought to care for her
betrothed husband. She did not feel that she could trust him, and she
could not look at him nor think of him without an inward shudder. One
day he said to her, 'You have not yet paid me a visit, although we
have been betrothed for some time.' 'I do not know where your house
is,' she answered. 'My house is out there in the dark forest,' he
said. She tried to excuse herself by saying that she would not be able
to find the way thither. Her betrothed only replied, 'You must come
and see me next Sunday; I have already invited guests for that day,
and that you may not mistake the way, I will strew ashes along the
path.'

When Sunday came, and it was time for the girl to start, a feeling of
dread came over her which she could not explain, and that she might be
able to find her path again, she filled her pockets with peas and
lentils to sprinkle on the ground as she went along. On reaching the
entrance to the forest she found the path strewed with ashes, and
these she followed, throwing down some peas on either side of her at
every step she took. She walked the whole day until she came to the


<< previous page | next page >>

Jump to page: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70 | 71 | 72 | 73 | 74 | 75 | 76 | 77 | 78 | 79 | 80 | 81 | 82 | 83 | 84 | 85 | 86 | 87 | 88 | 89 | 90 | 91 | 92 | 93 | 94 |