The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids

Once upon a time there was an old goat who had seven little kids, and she loved them the way a mother loves her children. One day she wanted to go into the forest to fetch some food, so she called all seven of them to her and said, "Dear children, I am going out into the forest. Be on your guard against the wolf. If he gets in, he will eat you all up, skin, hair, and all. The wretch often disguises himself, but you will know him at once by his rough voice and his black feet." The little kids said, "Dear mother, we will take good care of ourselves. You can go away without any worry." Then the old goat bleated and set off on her way with an easy mind.

It was not long before someone knocked at the door of the house and called, "Open the door, dear children. Your mother is here, and she has brought something back for each of you." But the little kids could tell by the rough voice that it was the wolf. "We will not open the door," they cried. "You are not our mother. She has a soft, sweet voice, but your voice is rough. You are the wolf!" So the wolf went off to a shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk. He ate it, and it made his voice soft. Then he came back, knocked at the door of the house, and cried, "Open the door, dear children. Your mother is here, and she has brought something back for each of you." But the wolf had laid his black paw on the windowsill, and the children saw it and cried, "We will not open the door. Our mother does not have a black foot like yours. You are the wolf!" Then the wolf ran to a baker and said, "I have hurt my foot. Spread some dough over it for me." And when the baker had spread the dough over his paw, he ran to the miller and said, "Sprinkle some white flour on my paw for me." The miller thought to himself, "The wolf means to cheat someone," and he refused. But the wolf said, "If you will not do it, I will eat you up." Then the miller was afraid, and he made the wolf's paw white for him. Yes, that is how people are.

Now the wretch went to the door of the house for the third time, knocked, and said, "Open the door for me, children. Your dear little mother has come home, and she has brought each of you something back from the forest." The little kids cried, "First show us your paw, so we may know that you are our dear little mother." Then he laid his paw on the windowsill, and when they saw that it was white, they believed that everything he said was true, and they opened the door. But who should come in but the wolf! They were terrified and tried to hide. The first sprang under the table, the second into the bed, the third into the stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth into the cupboard, the sixth under the washing bowl, and the seventh into the case of the wall clock. But the wolf found them all, and he made no ceremony about it. One after another he swallowed them down his throat. Only the youngest, hidden in the clock case, he did not find. When the wolf had eaten his fill, he ambled off, lay down under a tree in the green meadow outside, and began to sleep.

Not long afterward, the old goat came home again from the forest. Ah, what a sight met her eyes! The door of the house stood wide open. The table, the chairs, and the benches were knocked over, the washing bowl lay in pieces, and the quilt and pillows had been pulled off the bed. She searched for her children, but they were nowhere to be found. She called them by name one after another, but no one answered. At last, when she came to the youngest, a soft voice cried, "Dear mother, I am hiding in the clock case." She took it out, and it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all the others. Then you can imagine how she wept over her poor children.

At last, in her grief, she went outside, and the youngest kid ran along with her. When she came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree, snoring so loud that the branches shook. She looked him over from every side, and she saw that something was moving and struggling inside his stuffed belly. "Oh, good heavens," she thought, "could my poor children, whom he swallowed down for his supper, still be alive?" Then the little kid had to run home and fetch scissors, a needle, and thread. The goat cut open the monster's belly, and she had hardly made one cut before a little kid stuck its head out. And as she cut further, all six sprang out one after another, and every one of them was still alive and had not been hurt at all, for in his greed the monster had swallowed them down whole. What rejoicing there was! They hugged their dear mother and danced about like a tailor at his wedding. But the mother said, "Now go and look for big stones, and while the wicked beast is still asleep, we will fill his belly with them." Then the seven little kids dragged the stones over as fast as they could and stuffed as many of them into his belly as would go in. And the mother sewed him up again in great haste, so that he noticed nothing and never even stirred.

When the wolf had at last had his sleep out, he got to his feet, and because the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he wanted to go to a well to drink. But when he began to walk and move about, the stones in his belly knocked against each other and rattled. Then he cried,

"What rumbles and tumbles and rolls in my bones? I thought it was six kids, but it's nothing but stones!"

And when he came to the well and bent over the water to drink, the heavy stones dragged him in, and there was no help for it—he had to drown miserably. When the seven little kids saw that, they came running to the spot, crying aloud, "The wolf is dead! The wolf is dead!" and they danced for joy around the well with their mother.