Little Red Riding Hood

C. Allen Clarke, 1895

Chapter I.

In that good old “Once upon a time,” when all the wonderful things came off (leaving nothing worth mentioning to happen in these days), there lived a little girl called Red Riding Hood. She got that name because she wore a cloak, with a hood to it, to put over her head; and the colour of the cloak and the hood was a bright merry red.

Of course, Red Riding Hood had a father and mother, and lived with them in a pretty little cottage on the border of a great wood.

It was a very pleasant place to live in: for there were big leafy trees all about, and any amount of grass and shining flowers. In those days men had not built ugly factories and forges to kill the flowers and trees, and there were no hideous, dirty towns in any part of the land. That good old “once upon a time” was the best time that ever was: for though the people sometimes met with dreadful adventures, such as falling into the clutches of giants or ogres or wild beasts, they were clean and honest adventures, and if the people got killed in them they died a clean and decent sort of death, and were not horribly and villainously and stretchingly killed by foul smoke and bad air, and all kinds of sly creeping diseases that wouldn’t face them in fair fight, as is the case nowadays.

Red Riding Hood had a sweet life of it. In the early morning she saw the beautiful sun painting the east with glory; she saw the dewdrops all a-glitter on the flowers and leaves and grass; she heard the delicious voices of the woodland songsters, and wandered out beneath the smiling skies, gathering posies, while the gentle winds tenderly flew around her, like the soft fanning from the odorous wings of invisible birds.

Fig. 4. This illustration by Arthur Hughes, from Christina Rossetti’s Speaking Likenesses (1879), evokes the story of Red Riding Hood and similar tales of a young girl in danger.

Sometimes she rambled into the forest, but never went very far, because of the wicked wolf that was said to live there; at other times she sat knitting or sewing in the little garden in front of the house. She never went to school; there were no schools “once upon a time”; and Red Riding Hood could not spell “Con-stan-ti-no-ple,” nor say the multiplication table, nor pick out the nouns and verbs in a sentence, nor give the source of the Thames or Mersey or Yorkshire Ouse, nor tell when the Battle of Hastings was, nor do anything of that board-school¹ sort of thing. But though she had never passed the first standard, she could tell the name of every flower she saw; she knew all the trees; she could tell you, when she heard a piping in the woods, what bird it was that was singing; she could tell you how the bees made honey, how the caterpillars changed into butterflies; she could tell you what month the swallow came, when to expect the first snow-drop or blue-bell or May-blossom, when the blackberries would be ripe, when to look for raspberries, and a lot more things that they don’t teach in the board schools, but ought to do. So you see that, though Red Riding Hood knew nothing about the Himalaya Mountains, and nominative case, and vulgar fractions, yet she was not ignorant, but knew something that was quite as good, and perhaps better. You must never call people ignorant because they don’t know what you know; they may know a deal of something that you know nothing about. Everybody knows something. The navvy and the bricklayer and the labourer know how to do their work, even if they can’t tell you the date of Magna Charta, and there are many folks who can neither read nor write, yet know how to manage their business excellently. There are many sorts of useful knowledge that never get into the school books; indeed, what you learn at school is but a trifle; and you must never despise those who don’t know anything about grammar and arithmetic, for, if they don’t know that, they probably know something better, as was the case with Red Riding Hood.

Now, one fine morning Red Riding Hood’s mother said to her:

“I want you to go to your grandmother’s on the other side of the forest. Your father tells me that she is not so well, so I want you to take her a few dainties. Sick people always want something to coax their appetites. I would go myself, but I must get the washing done to-day.”

“All right,” said Red Riding Hood, “I shall be glad to go.”

“Do you think you can find the way all right?” asked her mother, for Red Riding Hood had never been to her grandma’s by herself; her parents had always been with her.

“Oh, yes,” said Red Riding Hood, “I am sure I can find my way. You go straight into the wood till you come to the Black Pool, then you take the path to the left till you come to the burnt oak, which was struck by lightning, there you take the path to the right, and that brings you right to grandmother’s door.”

“That’s quite correct,” said her mother. “I think you’ll manage. Get your things on, for the sooner you set off the better.”

So Red Riding Hood put her red cloak on, and her mother gave a little basket containing some delicacies for the sick grandmother.

“You must be careful to carry the basket straight,” said the mother, “for there’s a bottle of elderberry wine of my own making, and some currant bread, and a pot of gooseberry jam, and some good cakes fresh from the oven, and a bottle of Braggo’s Patent Indigestion Remover, which I am sure will do your grandmother good, if she will only take it. Now, be sure to tell her to take the indigestion stuff; it will do her a power of benefit, I am certain.”

“All right, mother,” said Red Riding Hood, “I will not forget.”

“But there is something,” said her mother, “which you must remember most of all.”

“And what is that, mother?” asked Red Riding Hood.

“It is this,” said her mother. “You must hurry straight through the wood, and not stop to talk with anyone. And beware of the wolf.”

“What’s the wolf, mother?”

“He’s a dreadful beast, and will gobble you up if he gets the chance. But he won’t trouble you unless you stop to talk with him. He has four legs and a great savage mouth and long ears; and all his delight is to kill people and eat them up. But he won’t molest you unless you encourage him by talking to him. Don’t stop with him, and you’ll be all right.”

“I will do just as you tell me, mother,” said Red Riding Hood, “and I am not afraid of the wolf.”

“Those who do right,” said her mother, “never need fear anything. Now, be off with you at once, that’s a good girl; get your errand done, and hurry back before the night falls.”

So saying, Red Riding Hood’s mother kissed her little daughter and made her “good morning”; and Red Riding Hood walked briskly away with the basket on her arm, and her red cloak showing brilliantly in the sun. When she was at the edge of the wood she turned round and saw her mother standing at the door; then she plunged amidst the thick trees and deep green shadows and was soon hidden in the leafy loneliness of the vast forest.

Chapter II.

Last week you were told how Red Riding Hood’s mother sent her to her grandmother’s with a little basket full of dainties. Red Riding Hood entered the wood where the wicked wolf lived.

But she was not afraid. She went on gaily and began to sing, and was soon in the thick of the great forest.

“Hullo, Red Riding Hood, and where are you off to this morning?” cried a Green Linnet; for in the wonderful days of “once on a time” all the birds and animals could talk in human speech.

“I am going to my grandmother’s,” said Red Riding Hood.

“Well,” said the Linnet, “just sit down a minute while I sing you a song. It’s the latest out.”

“Is it ‘Ting-a-ling-ting-tay’?”² asked Red Riding Hood.

“Oh, no,” said Green Linnet, “it’s better than that.”

“I don’t know whether to stay or not,” said Red Riding Hood. “My mother told me not to delay anywhere. But I suppose it wouldn’t be polite if I refused to listen to you after you have so generously offered to give me a song?”

“Of course it wouldn’t be polite,” said Green Linnet, “it would be very rude.”

“And I suppose it’s very wrong not to be polite?” asked Red Riding Hood.

“Of course it is,” said Green Linnet. “Manners come before everything. Ha! here comes Mr. Busy Bee. I’ll ask him to stay and listen, too.”

So he shouted out to a bee that was flying past, “Hullo, Mr. Busy Bee, I’m going to sing a song. Just sit down on that wild violet and listen.”

“I’ve no time to attend concerts,” said Mr. Busy Bee, “I must get on with my work.”

“But it would be rude to refuse, Mr. Bee,” said Red Riding Hood.

“How would it?” cried Mr. Bee. “Wasn’t it rude of Green Linnet to call out to me when I going past on business? He is interrupting my labours, and that’s the very highest impertinence. Don’t you know”—and here Busy Bee proudly drew himself up to his full height—“that I am that famous individual of whom the poet has written,

‘How doth the little busy bee

Improve each shining hour,

And gather honey all the day

From every opening flower?’”

“Don’t talk so big,” said Green Linnet. “For my part, I don’t see that you improve the shining hours so very much, with all your toil; in fact you’re not the sort to improve anything, and the time’s quite good enough for me without any improvements of yours.”

And Green Linnet cocked his head with a bit of a swagger, and became personal and insulting, just like men and women do when arguing, and said, “Some folks are so very, very slow that they’ve to work ten times more than other people in order to keep up with them.”

“Who are you driving at?” inquired the Bee, with an angry hum.

“At you,” replied Green Linnet; “you traitor to the trades union. You’re knobstick—a blackleg—and all that kind of dirt. You know very well that when all the butterflies and birds and nearly all the insects decided to form a union and agitate for a four hours’ day, you never came near the public meeting. I suppose you were busy working somewhere?”

“That’s my business,” said Busy Bee.

“Pray don’t quarrel,” said Red Riding Hood, “falling out is vulgar.”

“Oh, he’s a mean fellow,” said Busy Bee.

“Same to you,” said Green Linnet, “and many of ’em, you selfish, greedy, scraping, miserable honey-scratcher!”

At this point Busy Bee and Green Linnet would have had a fight, but Red Riding Hood interfered, and drove Busy Bee away; and then Green Linnet said, “I’m glad he’s gone. He’s not respectable. I never saw such a fool to work as he is, and he doesn’t get any more wages for it; he’s a regular ass. I’m glad he’s gone. You can now sit down and listen to my song.”

“I’m afraid that I cannot,” said Red Riding Hood, “for I must be getting on. I don’t want to be rude or unmannerly, but really I have stayed too long already. Besides, if you’d got on with your singing at first, instead of quarrelling with Busy Bee, you’d have been through the song ere now, so it is your own fault that I have missed it.”

These words vexed Mr. Green Linnet, but Red Riding Hood took no further notice of him. She said “Good morning,” and walked away, leaving Green Linnet in a bad temper.

Next a beautifully-coloured butterfly—with red and blue and golden wings—came across Red Riding Hood’s path, and said “I’ll bet you cannot catch me, Red Riding Hood!”

“It’s wicked to bet,” said Red Riding Hood; “and I’ve no time to play with you this morning.”

“Let’s have a game at hide-and-seek,” said the butterfly, “just for five minutes.”

Red Riding Hood said “No,” but the butterfly teased her so hard that she consented to have a game for just five minutes; so away flew the Butterfly, and Red Riding Hood ran after him; and she chased him in and about the trees till he suddenly soared up and flew away, and Red Riding Hood could see nothing of him.

“I don’t think it was right of him to rush away like that,” said Red Riding Hood, “and I’ll tell him so next time I meet him. But I must hurry on. I’ve wasted quite a lot of time. I shall have to run to fetch up.”

She began to run, but could not run very fast, because the trees were so close together, and the twigs and leaves on the ground hindered her feet. But she went quickly on, and soon reached the Black Pool, where a big frog stuck his head out of the water, and said “Hullo, Red Riding Hood; come on, and I’ll have you a swimming match.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Frog,” said Red Riding Hood, and hurried on.

“I don’t believe you can swim,” said the Frog contemptuously, as he plunged beneath the water.

By-and-bye Red Riding Hood came to the Burnt Oak, and was startled when a big fierce-faced animal like a huge dog, came out of the trees, and placed himself right in front of her.

“Who are you?” gasped Red Riding Hood, feeling rather frightened.

“I am the wolf,” replied the beast, “but there’s no need to be afraid of me. I’m a very tender sort of chap, and wouldn’t harm anybody. People tell lies about me; but you mustn’t believe ’em. I am a very gentle and respectable fellow. I belong to the Young Men’s Christian Association, the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and am a member of the Band of Hope.³ I never touched a lamb in my life; in fact, if there’s anything at all that I dislike more than anything else it’s lamb and green peas. You’re not afraid of me, are you, Red Riding Hood?”

“I—I don’t know,” stammered Red Riding Hood.

“Well, you needn’t be,” said the wolf, putting on what he thought was a sweet Sunday smile, “and may I not ask you where you are going, Red Riding Hood?”

“To my grandmother’s,” said Red Riding Hood.

“Oh! and are you taking that basket?”

“Yes. There are some dainties in it for my grandmother, she’s ill.”

“Dear me!” said the wolf, “that’s sad. I’ll call and leave her a tract to read. Where does she live, did you say?”

“Just through the wood; straight ahead,” said Red Riding Hood.

“Thank you,” said the wolf, “I hope she’ll soon be better. But I must be off now, I’ve got to be at a P.S.A.⁴ meeting at three o’clock. Good morning.”

And off he went.

Chapter III.

Thus far you have been told how Red Riding Hood set out to see her grandmother; how she went into the forest and met the wolf; and how she told the wolf where she was going, whereupon the wolf left her, and Red Riding Hood went on her way.

But while Red Riding Hood was walking through the wood the wolf was running in the direction of her grandmother’s house as fast as he could. He soon reached the cottage, and knocked at the door.

“Who’s there?” cried the grandmother in a feeble voice.

“ ’Tis I, Red Riding Hood,” replied the wolf in as gentle a tone as he could get out of his savage jaws.

“Then lift up the latch and walk in,” said the grandmother; and the wolf, with a cruel look in his eye, lifted up the latch and walked in. When the grandmother beheld him she jumped up in the bed with a shriek; but in an instant the wolf sprang upon her and killed her. Then he quickly ate her up, and licked up some of the blood that had dropped on the floor.

“Ha, ha!” said the wolf, “she was rather tough and bony, and not much of a meal. I feel quite hungry yet. I will now get in bed and act the grandmother, and when Red Riding Hood comes I’ll gobble her up too. She is young and tender, and will be a very dainty morsel to eat; not like the lean old grandmother, ha, ha!”

So saying the wolf got into bed, put the grandmother’s nightcap on his head, drew the bedclothes up to his chin, and lay still awaiting the arrival of Red Riding Hood.

The wolf was quite delighted with his wicked trick, and chuckled a lot as he lay in bed.

“Ha, ha!” he said, “what a simple little fool Red Riding Hood was to tell me all her business and errand. She little dreamt what the result of that confidence would be. But, dear me, if there were no silly folks in the world such chaps as I would find it difficult to live.”

Which shows you, children, that it is not a wise thing to tell all your affairs to any stranger you may meet when you are going on an errand. It is always best not to tell anything to anybody unless you know who they are; and even then it is not always prudent.

While the wolf was grinning and talking to himself, a big, bright blue-bottle who had been in the room all the morning and witnessed the murder of Red Riding Hood’s grandmother came and settled on his nose and bit it sharply with his little jaws. The wolf raised his big paw and struck at the blue-bottle, but the fly was too quick for him, and buzzed away so swiftly that the wolf did nothing except give himself a heavy slap on the face. This made the blue-bottle laugh merrily, at which the wolf grew very angry. The blue-bottle took no notice of him, but flew round the wolf’s head, settled on the back of his ear, and began to chew it till the wolf was all of a wild rage. Then the blue-bottle flew out through the window, which was open a little at the top, saying to himself as soon as he got outside, “I must now hurry to meet little Red Riding Hood and try to prevent her coming here, for the wolf will surely eat her if she does. That’s his game, for I heard him talking it over to himself.”

So the blue-bottle flew into the wood, and soon met Red Riding Hood with her basket on her arm. He hovered round and round her head, trying to attract her attention, but Red Riding Hood only said, “Go away, you disagreeable blue-bottle! You quite annoy me.”

These words hurt the blue-bottle’s feelings, for he was really trying to save Red Riding Hood’s life, and, lo! here she was actually calling him a nasty nuisance. Human beings often get treated like the blue-bottle when they are trying to do people a good turn.

But the blue-bottle was a very good-natured fellow, and made excuse for Red Riding Hood.

“She doesn’t understand,” he said to himself; “and doesn’t know her danger.” So he flew close her ear, and made a buzzing noise in it. He was trying to talk; but as he was a Scotch blue-bottle who had only come into England the week before, he hadn’t had time to acquire the English language, and Red Riding Hood couldn’t make out a word he said.

“Dear me!” she said. “What a pest this blue-bottle is!” And she waved her hand and endeavoured to drive him away; but he wouldn’t go.

By this time Red Riding Hood was close to her grandmother’s cottage, and the blue-bottle was quite agitated; but he could not make her understand.

“What must I do? what must I do?” murmured the blue-bottle. “Ah, I know!” and off he flew to a place where he had seen a woodman asleep on the grass. And, as luck had it, this woodman was a Scotchman.

Meanwhile Red Riding Hood had knocked at the door of her grandmother’s hut.

“Lift up the latch and walk in!” cried the wolf, trying to imitate the grandmother’s voice.

Red Riding Hood lifted up the latch and walked in, but was rather surprised at the strange appearance of her grandmother. But she opened her basket and said, “Here are some things my mother sent you, and you are to be sure to drink this stuff in the bottle.”

“Give ’em here, my dear,” said the wolf, and he quickly gobbled up all the good things that Red Riding Hood’s mother had sent.

“Dear me,” said Red Riding Hood, “what an appetite you’ve got, grandmother.”

“Yes,” said the wolf, “but it’s not what it used to be before I was ill.”

“And what hairy hands you’ve got, grandmother,” said Red Riding Hood.

“Yes,” said the wolf, “I’ve got my seal-skin gloves on to keep me from catching neuralgia in the finger nails,” and he took a great swig and drank the whole bottle of Braggo’s Indigestion Cure at one gulp. He didn’t like the taste of it, but supposed that it was all right.

“And what big arms you’ve got, grandmother,” said Red Riding Hood.

“The better to hug you with, my dear,” said the wolf.

“And what big eyes you’ve got, grandmother.”

“The better to see you with, my dear.”

“And what big ears you’ve got, grandmother!”

“The better to hear you with, my dear.”

“And what big teeth you’ve got, grandmother!”

“The better to eat you with, my dear!” and the wolf threw off the bedclothes and was springing on Red Riding Hood when the door of the room was burst open and a voice cried, “No, you don’t!” and in rushed the woodman and killed the wolf with three blows of his axe; for the indigestion stuff had made the wolf so ill that he couldn’t offer any resistance. The blue-bottle had wakened the woodman by tickling his nose, and he had got up and come to see how Red Riding Hood’s mother, who was a friend of his wife’s, was getting on, and had just reached the place in time to save Red Riding Hood’s life.

But the blue-bottle deserved some credit too, don’t you think?