er friend Susan Brand.

"We don't want you," said Lucy Bell,
"You little tiresome chit;
Our secrets are not meant for you,
You little tell-tale-tit."

Then both girls cried, "Tell-tale-tit,"
And pushed her roughly by;
Poor Nelly said, "I'm no such thing,"
And then began to cry.

[Page 16--Girl's Stories]

Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time there was a dear little girl whose mother made her a
scarlet cloak with a hood to tie over her pretty head; so people
called her (as a pet name) "Little Red Riding-Hood." One day her
mother tied on her cloak and hood and said,

"I wish you to go to-day, my darling, to see your grandmamma, and
take her a present of some butter, fresh eggs, a pot of honey,
and a little cake with my love."

Little Red Riding-Hood loved her grandmother, and was very glad to
go. So she ran gaily through the wood, gathering wild flowers and
gambolling among the ferns as she went; and the birds all sang their
sweetest songs to her, and the bluebells nodded their pretty heads,
for everything loved the gentle child.

By and by a great hungry Wolf came up to her. He wished to eat her
up, but as he heard the woodman Hugh's axe at work close by, he was
afraid to touch her, for fear she should cry out and he should get
killed. So he only asked her where she was going. Little Red
Riding-Hood innocently told him (for she did not know he was a wicked
Wolf) that she was going to visit her grandmother, who lived in a
cottage on the other side of the wood. Then the Wolf made haste, and
ran through the wood, and came to the cottage of which the child had
told him. He tapped at the door.

"Who's there?" asked the old woman, who lay sick in bed.

"It is Little Red Riding-Hood, Grandmamma," answered the Wolf in
a squeaky tone, to imitate the voice of her grandchild.

"Pull the string, and the latch will come up," said the old lady,
"for I am ill and cannot open the door."

The cruel Wolf did so, and, jumping on the bed, ate the poor
grandmother up.

Then he put on her night-cap and got into bed. By and by Little Red
Riding-Hood, who had lingered gathering flowers as she came along,
and so was much later than the Wolf, knocked at the door.

"Who's there?" asked the Wolf, mimicking her grandmother's voice.
"It is Little Red Riding-Hood, dear Grandmamma," said the child.
"Pull the string and the latch will come up," said the Wolf.

So Red Riding-H