Narration.
AT GRANDMOTHER’S HOUSE.
By and by little Red Riding Hood came to her grandmother’s house carrying her basket and the flowers she had gathered. She knocked at the door.
“Who is there?” asked a voice. “It is little Red Riding Hood, grandmother,” answered the child. “Pull the string and the latch will fly up,” said the voice. Red Riding Hood pulled the string. Up flew the latch, the door opened, and she went in.
“I wish you a happy birthday, grandmother,” she said. “See, I have brought you a little present and some pretty flowers.” “Put them away,” said the voice from the bed, “and come here; for I wish to talk to you.” Red Riding Hood went over to the bed to talk to her grandmother.
Of course it was not her dear grandmother, but the wolf. But she did not know that.
Red Riding Hood sat down on the bed. The room was so dark that she could not see very well. But she wondered at the strange looking face that looked at her from her grandmother’s nightcap.
“O grandmother,” she said, “what big ears you have.” “The better to hear you, my child.” “O grandmother, what great eyes you have.” “The better to see you, my child.” “O grandmother, what a big nose you have.” “The better to smell you, my child.” “O grandmother, what long teeth you have.” “The better to eat you, my child,” cried the wolf; and he sprang up and was just about to swallow poor little Red Riding Hood when the door burst open and in came the woodcutters, who soon killed the wolf.