“Well,” replied the wolf, “you will be the first! But give me a potato at once; I am as hungry as can be.”
Farmer Broom put a potato on the point of his knife, and held it out at arm’s length to the wolf, but the latter swallowed the potato, the knife, and the farmer at a gulp.
The next day the wolf knocked at Farmer Leaves’ door, just after the latter had returned with a basketful of dead leaves which he had collected from beneath the snow.
“Farmer Leaves, Farmer Leaves, open the door, my dear friend; my little feet are so cold, and my little hands are frozen.”
“I shall not open it,” replied Farmer Leaves.
“Then I shall burst it open,” said the wolf, and thereupon he threw his weight against the door, forced it open, went in and sat down by the fire.
Farmer Leaves was also about to peel potatoes, and the wolf said in a deep voice, “Warm in the stomach, as I shall have fat pigs. Warm in the stomach, as I shall have fat pigs.”
“What are you mumbling?” asked Farmer Leaves.
“Well,” said the wolf, “I was saying a little prayer for you, but, quick, give me a potato, I am dying of hunger.”
