‘Well, I declare,’ said Father at last, ‘you look just like little Red Ridinghood’s sister.’
‘Do I?’ said Sally, smiling up at Father as pleased as could be. ‘Do I? But then, who is the wolf?’
‘Why, Tippy, of course,’ answered Father, smiling back.
‘Oh, oh!’ said Sally, squeezing Father’s hand. ‘Will you write and tell Aunt Sarah about it, about the cape and little Red Ridinghood’s sister, and the wolf?’
‘Yes, I will,’ promised Father. ‘I will write to her to-night.’
‘But, Father,’ said Sally, after a moment, ‘will you tell her that Tippy is a good wolf, that he is not bad? Tell her that he is a good wolf most times.’
‘Yes, I will write that, too,’ agreed Father. ‘But what shall I tell her about Red Ridinghood’s sister? Is she good or bad?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Sally, turning bashful. ‘Mother, what shall Father say about me?’
‘Well,’ answered Mother thoughtfully, ‘I think little Red Ridinghood’s sister is like her wolf, Tippy, good most times, too.’