The Wolf and the Seven Little Goats

Once upon a time there lived an old Goat who had seven young ones, whom she loved as every mother loves her children. One day she wanted to go into the forest to fetch some food, so, calling her seven young ones together, she said, “Dear children, I am going away into the wood; be on your guard against the Wolf, for if he comes here, he will eat you all up—skin, hair, and all. He often disguises himself, but you may know him by his rough voice and his black feet.” The little Goats replied “Dear mother, we will pay great attention to what you say; you may go away without any anxiety.” So the old one bleated and ran off, quite contented upon her road.

Not long afterwards, somebody knocked at the hut-door and called out, “Open, my dear children; your mother is here and has brought you each something. But the little Goats perceived from the rough voice that it was a Wolf, and so they said, “We will not undo the door; you are not our mother; she has a gentle and loving voice; but yours is gruff; you are a Wolf.” So the Wolf went to a shop and bought a great piece of chalk, which he ate, and by that means rendered his voice more gentle. Then he came back, knocked at the hut-door, and called out, “Open, my dear children; your mother has come home, and has brought you each something.” But the Wolf had placed his black paws upon the window-sill, so the Goats saw them, and replied, “No, we will not open the door; our mother has not black feet; you are a Wolf.” So the Wolf went to a baker and said, “I have hurt my foot, put some dough on it.” And when the baker had done so, he ran to the miller, saying, “Strew some white flour upon my feet.” But the miller, thinking he was going to deceive somebody, hesitated, till the Wolf said, “If you do not do it at once, I will eat you.” This made the miller afraid, so he powdered his feet with flour. Such are men.

Now, the villain went for the third time to the hut, and knocking at the door, called out, “Open to me, my children; your dear mother is come, and has brought with her something for each of you out of the forest.” The little Goats exclaimed, “Show us first your feet, that we may see whether you are our mother.” So the Wolf put his feet up on the window-sill, and when they saw that they were white, they thought it was all right, and undid the door. But who should come in? The Wolf. They were terribly frightened, and tried to hide themselves. One ran under the table, the second got into the bed, the third into the cupboard, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth into the oven, the sixth into the wash-tub, and the seventh into the clock-case. But the Wolf found them all out, and did not delay, but swallowed them all up one after another: only the youngest one, hid in the clock-case, he did not discover. When the Wolf had satisfied his appetite, he dragged himself out, and, lying down upon the green meadow under a tree, went fast asleep.

Soon after the old Goat came home out of the forest. Ah, what a sight she saw! The hut-door stood wide open; the table, stools, and benches were overturned; the wash-tub was broken to pieces, and the sheets and pillows pulled off the bed. She sought her children, but could find them nowhere. She called them by name, one after the other; but no one answered. At last, when she came to the name of the youngest, a little voice replied, “Here I am, dear mother, in the clock-case.” She took her out, and heard how the Wolf had come and swallowed all the others. You cannot think how she wept for her poor little ones.

At last she went out in all her misery, and the young Goat ran by her side; and when they came to the meadow, there lay the Wolf under the tree, snoring so that the boughs quivered. She viewed him on all sides, and perceived that something moved and stirred about in his body. “Ah, mercy!” thought she, “should my poor children, whom he has swallowed for his dinner, be yet alive!” So saying, she ran home and fetched a pair of scissors and a needle and thread. Then she cut open the monster’s hairy coat, and had scarcely made one slit, before one little Goat put his head out, and as she cut further, out jumped one after another, all six, still alive, and without any injury, for the monster, in his eagerness, had gulped them down quite whole. There was a joy! They hugged their dear mother, and jumped about like tailors keeping their wedding-day. But the old mother said, “Go and pick up at once some large stones, that we may fill the monster’s stomach, while he lies fast asleep.” So the seven little Goats dragged up in great haste a pile of stones, and put them in the Wolf’s stomach, as many as they could bring; and then the old mother went, and, looking at him in a great hurry, saw that he was still insensible, and did not stir, and so she sewed up the slit.

When the Wolf at last woke up, he raised himself upon his legs, and, because the stones which were lying in his stomach made him feel thirsty, he went to a brook in order to drink. But as he went along, rolling from side to side, the stones began to tumble about in his body, and he called out

“What rattles, what rattles

Against my poor bones!

Not little goats, I think,

But only big stones!”

And when the Wolf came to the brook he stooped down to drink, and the heavy stones made him lose his balance, so that he fell, and sunk beneath the water.

As soon as the seven little Goats saw this, they came running up, singing aloud, “The Wolf is dead! the Wolf is dead!” and they danced for joy around their mother by the side of the brook.