But the kids knew quite well by the voice that it was the wolf.
“We won’t open the door!” they cried. “You are not our mother. She has a soft, gentle voice; but yours is rough, and we are quite sure that you are the wolf.”
So he went away to a shop and bought a lump of chalk, which he ate, and it made his voice quite soft. He went back, knocked at the door again, and cried:
“Open the door, dear children. Your mother has come back and brought something for each of you.”
But the wolf had put one of his paws on the window-sill, where the kids saw it, and cried:
“We won’t open the door. Our mother has not got a black foot as you have; you are the wolf.”
Then the wolf ran to a baker and said: “I have bruised my foot; please put some dough on it.” And when the baker had put some dough on his foot, he ran to the miller and said: “Strew some flour on my foot.”
The miller thought, “The old wolf is going to take somebody in,” and refused.
But the wolf said: “If you don’t do it, I will eat you up.”
So the miller was frightened, and whitened the wolf’s paws. People are like that, you know.