e wolf. Andrew Lang thinks that
the tale as it stands is merely meant to waken
a child's terror and pity, after the fashion of
the old Greek tragedies, and that the narrator
properly ends it by making a pounce, in the
character of wolf, at the little listener. That
this was the correct "business" in Scotch
nurseries is borne out by a sentence in
Chambers' _Popular Rhymes of Scotland_: "The
old nurse's imitation of the _gnash, gnash_,
which she played off upon the youngest urchin
lying in her lap, was electric."

LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD

Once upon a time there lived in a certain village a little country girl,
the prettiest creature that was ever seen. Her mother was excessively
fond of her; and her grandmother doted on her still more. This good
woman got made for her a little red riding-hood, which became the girl
so extremely well that everybody called her Little Red Riding-Hood.

One day her mother, having made some custards, said to her, "Go, my
dear, and see how thy grandmamma does, for I hear that she has been very
ill; carry her a custard and this little pot of butter."

Little Red Riding-Hood set out immediately to go to her grandmother, who
lived in another village.

As she was going through the wood, she met with Gaffer Wolf, who had a
very great mind to eat her up, but he durst not because of some
fagot-makers hard by in the forest. He asked her whither she was going.
The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stay and hear
a wolf talk, said to him, "I am going to see my grandmamma and carry her
a custard and a little pot of butter from my mamma."

"Does she live far off?" said the wolf.

"Oh! aye," answered Little Red Riding-Hood, "it is beyond the mill you
see there at the first house in the village."

"Well," said the wolf, "and I'll go and see her too. I'll go this way
and you go that, and we shall see who will be there soonest."

The wolf began to run as fast as he could, taking the nearest way, and
the little girl went by that farthest about, diverting herself by
gathering nuts, running after butterflies, and making nosegays of such
little flowers as she met with. The wolf was not long before he got to
the old woman's house. He knocked at the door--tap, tap.

"Who's there?"

"Your grandchild, Little Red Riding-Hood," replied the wolf,
counterfeiting her voice, "who has brought you a custa