Wolf,
counterfeiting the child's voice, "who has brought you a filet and a
little pot of foie gras."

II

The good grandmother, who had eaten nothing for two days except a
mallard, with a pint of champagne, cried out hungrily, "Come in, my
dear."

The Wolf ran in, and, falling upon the old lady, ate her up in a hurry,
for he had not tasted food for a whole week. He then got into the bed,
and presently Little Red Riding-Hood tapped at the door.

The Wolf pitched his voice as high and unpleasant as he could, and
called out, "What is it, Hawkins?"

"It isn't Hawkins," replied Little Red Riding-Hood. "It is your
grandchild, who has brought you a filet and a little pot of foie gras."

"Come in, my dear," responded the Wolf. And when the child entered he
said: "Put the filet and the little pot of foie gras on the gold
tabouret, and come and lie down with me."

Little Red Riding-Hood did not think it good form to go to bed so very,
very late in the morning, but as she expected to inherit her
grandmother's millions she obediently took off her gold-flowered frock,
and her pretty silk petticoat, and her dear little diamond stomacher,
and got into bed, where, amazed at the change for the better in her
grandmother's appearance, she said to her:

"Grandmother, how thin your arms have got!"

"I have been dieting, my dear."

"Grandmother, how thin your legs have got!"

"The doctor makes me walk every day."

"Grandmother, how quiet you are!"

"This isn't a symphony concert hall, my dear."

"Grandmother, what has become of your diamond-filled teeth?"

"These will do, my dear."

And saying these words the wicked Wolf fell upon Little Red Riding-Hood
and ate her all up.

JACK AND THE BEANSTALK.

I

Once upon a time there was a very wealthy widow who lived in a marble
cottage approached by a driveway of the same stone, bordered with
rhododendrons. She had an only son, Jack--a giddy, thoughtless boy, but
very kindhearted, as many a hard-working chorus girl had reason to
remember. Jack was an idle fellow, whose single accomplishment was
driving an automobile, in which he displayed remarkable skill and
recklessness; there was hardly a day he did not run over something or
somebody. One day he bumped a very heavy workingman, whose remains
messed up the car so badly that Jack's mother lost patience with him.
"My dear," she said, "why don't you put your skill and energy to some
use? If only you would slay the