"Dear mother," answered the kids, "you need not be afraid, we will take good care of ourselves." And the mother bleated good-bye, and went on her way with an easy mind.
It was not long before some one came knocking at the house-door, and crying out, "Open the door, my dear children, your mother is come back, and has brought each of you something."
But the little kids knew it was the wolf by the hoarse voice.
"We will not open the door," cried they; "you are not our mother, she has a delicate and sweet voice, and your voice is hoarse; you must be the wolf."
Then off went the wolf to a shop and bought a big lump of chalk, and ate it up to make his voice soft. And then he came back, knocked at the house-door, and cried, "Open the door, my dear children, your mother is here, and has brought each of you something."
But the wolf had put up his black paws against the window, and the kids seeing this, cried out, "We will not open the door; our mother has no black paws like you; you must be the wolf."
The wolf then ran to a baker.
"Baker," said he, "I am hurt in the foot; pray spread some dough over the place."
And when the baker had plastered his feet, he ran to the miller.
"Miller," said he, "strew me some white meal over my paws." But the miller refused, thinking the wolf must be meaning harm to some one.