The sun was shining brightly, but it was not too warm under the shade of the old trees, and Red Riding-Hood sang with glee as she gathered a great bunch of wild flowers to give to her grandmother. She sang so sweetly that a cushat dove flew down from a tree and followed her.
Now, it happened that a wolf, a very cruel, greedy creature, heard her song also, and longed to eat her for his breakfast, but he knew Hugh, the woodman, was at work very near, with his great dog, and he feared they might hear Red Riding-Hood cry out, if he frightened her, and then they would kill him. So he came up to her very gently and said:
“Good day, Little Red Riding-Hood; where are you going?”
“To see my grandmother,” said the child, “and take her a present from mother of eggs and butter and cake.”
“Where does your grandmamma live?” asked the wolf.
“Quite in the middle of the wood,” she replied.
“Oh! I think I know the house. Good day, Red Riding-Hood.” And the wolf ran off as fast as he could
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