I’m going to my grandmamma’s,
She is not very well,
With cake and pot of butter;
Says Wolf where does she dwell?
In yonder house, by yonder mill
Good bye—I cannot stay—
And with her pretty finger, she
Pointed out the way.
The Wolf got first to grandma’s door,
And knocked toc, toc, toc;
Who is that, said grandmamma,
That at the door doth knock;
’Tis your grandaughter, said the Wolf
And mimic’d Biddy’s voice,
Mamma has sent you a plumb cake,
And pot of butter nice.
Now grandmamma being very ill,
She on the bed did lie,
And called out, the bobbin pull,
And up the latch will fly;
The bobbin pull’d, up flew the latch,
The Wolf popp’d in his head
And soon he eat up grandmamma
And then got into bed.
Toc, toc, toc, at grandma’s door
Knocked Little Red Riding Hood,
Who’s there, says Wolf, and with a voice,
Like grandma’s as he could;
’Tis your grandaughter, little Bid
With cake and pot of butter;
The bobbin pull, the latch will fly,
The wicked Wolf did mutter.
CINDERELLA.
