by Maria Tatar
“I’ll do just as you say,” Little Red Riding Hood promised.
Grandmother lived deep in the woods, about a half hour walk from the village. No sooner had Little Red Riding Hood set foot in the forest than she met the wolf. Little Red Riding Hood had no idea what a wicked beast he was, and so she wasn’t in the least bit afraid of him.
“Good morning, Little Red Riding Hood,” the wolf said.
“Good morning to you too, Mr. Wolf,” she replied.
“Where are you headed so early this morning, Little Red Riding Hood?”
“To Grandmother’s house,” she replied.
“What’s that tucked under your apron?”
“Some cakes and wine. Yesterday we did some baking, and Grandmother needs something to make her better, for she is ill and feeling weak,” she replied.
“Where is your grandmother’s house, Little Red Riding Hood?”
“It’s a good quarter of an hour’s walk into the woods, right under the three big oak trees. You must know the place from all the hazel hedges around it,” said Little Red Riding Hood.
The wolf thought to himself: “That tender young thing will make a nice dainty snack! She’ll taste even better than the old woman. If you’re really crafty, you’ll get them both.”
The wolf walked beside Little Red Riding Hood for a while. Then he said: “Little Red Riding Hood, have you noticed the beautiful flowers all around? Why don’t you stay and look at them for a while? I don’t think you’ve even heard how sweetly the birds are singing. You act as if you were on the way to school, when it’s really so much fun out here in the woods.”
Little Red Riding Hood opened her eyes wide, looked around, and saw the sunbeams dancing in the trees. She caught sight of the beautiful flowers all around and thought: “If you bring Grandmother a fresh bouquet, she’ll be delighted. It’s still early enough that I’m sure to get there in plenty of time.”
Little Red Riding Hood left the path and ran off into the woods looking for flowers. As soon as she picked one, she spotted an even more beautiful one somewhere else and went after it. And so she went even deeper into the woods.
The wolf ran straight to Grandmother’s house and knocked at the door.
“Who’s there?”
“Little Red Riding Hood. I’ve brought some cakes and wine. Open the door.”
“Just raise the latch,” Grandmother called out. “I’m too weak to get out of bed.”
The wolf raised the latch, and the door swung wide open. Without saying a word, he went straight to Grandmother’s bed and gobbled her right up. Then he put on her clothes and her nightcap, lay down in her bed, and drew the curtains.
Meanwhile, Little Red Riding Hood was running around looking for flowers. When she had gathered so many that she couldn’t hold any more in her arms, she suddenly remembered Grandmother and got back on the path leading to her house. She was surprised to find the door open, and when she stepped into the house, she had such a strange feeling that she thought: “Oh, my goodness, I’m usually so glad to be at Grandmother’s house, but something feels really strange.”
Little Red Riding Hood called out a greeting, but there was no answer. Then she went over to the bed and drew back the curtain. Grandmother was lying there with her nightcap pulled down over her face. She looked very odd.
“Oh, Grandmother, what big ears you have!”
“The better to hear you with.”
“Oh, Grandmother, what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see you with.”
“Oh, Grandmother, what big hands you have!”
“The better to grab you with!”
“Oh, Grandmother, what a big, scary mouth you have!”
“The better to eat you with!”
No sooner had the wolf said these words than he leaped out of bed and gobbled up poor Little Red Riding Hood.
Once the wolf had eaten his fill, he lay back down in the bed, fell asleep, and began to snore very loudly. A huntsman happened to be passing by the house just then and thought: “How loudly the old woman is snoring! I’d better check to see if anything’s wrong.” He walked into the house, and when he reached the bed, he realized that a wolf was lying in it.
“I’ve found you at last, you old sinner,” he said. “I’ve been after you for a long time now.”
He pulled out his musket and was about to take aim when he realized that the wolf might have eaten Grandmother and that he could still save her. Instead of firing, he took out a pair of scissors and began cutting open the belly of the sleeping wolf. After making a few cuts, he caught sight of a red cap. He made a few more cuts, and a girl leaped out, crying: “Oh, I was so terrified! It was so dark in the belly of the wolf.”
Although she could barely breathe, the frail grandmother also found her way back out of the belly. Little Red Riding Hood quickly fetched some large stones and filled the wolf’s belly with them. When the wolf awoke, he tried to race off, but the stones were so heavy that his legs collapsed, and he fell down dead.
Little Red Riding Hood, her grandmother, and the huntsman were elated. The huntsman skinned the wolf and took the pelt home with him. Grandmother ate the cakes and drank the wine that Little Red Riding Hood had brought her and recovered her health. Little Red Riding Hood said to herself: “Never again will you stray from the path and go into the woods, when your mother has forbidden it.”
There is a story about another time that Little Red Riding Hood met a wolf on the way to Grandmother’s house, while she was bringing her some cakes. The wolf tried to get her to stray from the path, but Little Red Riding Hood was on her guard and kept right on going. She told her grandmother that she had met a wolf and that he had greeted her. But he had looked at her in such an evil way that “if we hadn’t been out in the open, he would have gobbled me right up.”
“Well then,” said Grandmother. “We’ll just lock the door so he can’t get in.”
A little while later the wolf knocked at the door and called out: “Open the door, Grandmother. It’s Little Red Riding Hood, and I’m bringing you some cakes.”
The two kept completely quiet and refused to open the door. Then old Graybeard circled the house a few times and jumped up on the roof. He was planning on waiting until Little Red Riding Hood went home. Then he was going to creep up after her and gobble her up in the dark. But Grandmother figured out what was on his mind. There was a big stone trough in front of the house. Grandmother said to the child: “Here’s a bucket, Little Red Riding Hood. Yesterday I cooked some sausages in it. Take the water in which they were boiled and pour it into the trough.”
Little Red Riding Hood kept taking water to the trough until it was completely full. The smell from those sausages reached the wolf’s nostrils. His neck was stretched out so far from sniffing and looking around that he lost his balance and began to slide down the roof. He slid right down into the trough and drowned. Little Red Riding Hood walked home cheerfully, and no one ever did her any harm.
THE BREMAN
TOWN MUSICIANS
nce there lived a man who owned a donkey that never grew ornery even though he had been hauling sacks of grain to a mill year in and year out. The animal’s strength was beginning to fail, and he was becoming less and less suited for that type of work. The master was thinking about doing away with him, but when the donkey realized that there was trouble in the air, he ran off and started out on a journey to Bremen. He thought that he might be able to become one of the town musicians there.
After he had been on the road for a while, the donkey saw a hound lying by the side of the road, panting like someone who had been walking to the point of exhaustion.
“Hey there, Packer,” said the donkey, “why are you panting so hard?”
“Alas,” the dog replied, “I’m beginning to get old, and every day I feel a litt
le weaker. Now that I’m having trouble keeping up on hunts, my master is thinking of doing away with me. I’ve run away now, but I don’t know how I’m going to earn my daily bread.”
“Listen to me,” the donkey said. “I’m on my way to Bremen to become a town musician. Why don’t you join me and become a member of the band? I’ll play the lute and you can play the drums.” The dog thought that was a mighty good idea, and they went back on the road together.
Before they had gotten very far, they ran into a cat making a face as long as three days of rain in a row.
“What’s gotten into you, Mr. Tidypaws?” asked the donkey.
“How can you enjoy anything when your life is hanging by a thread?” the cat replied. “Just because I’m getting old and my teeth aren’t as sharp as they used to be, and just because I’d rather sleep near the oven and purr than chase mice, my mistress started thinking about drowning me. It’s true that I managed to get away in time, but now I need some good advice. Where in the world should I go?”
“Come with us to Bremen. As an expert in nighttime serenades, you’ll make a good town minstrel.” The cat thought that was not a bad idea at all and decided to join up.
The three fugitives passed by a barnyard, where a rooster was perched up on the gate, crowing with all his might. “That crowing of yours could shatter glass,” the donkey exclaimed. “What in the world are you trying to do?”
“I’m predicting good weather,” said the rooster, “because today is the day that Our Dear Lady is planning to wash the Christ Child’s shirts and hang them up to dry. But my own mistress is heartless. Tomorrow we’re having company, and I heard her tell the cook that she was going to put me in tomorrow’s soup and eat me up. They’re going to chop my head off tonight. And so I’m crowing as loud as I can while the crowing’s good.”
“Don’t be a fool, Redcomb,” said the donkey. “You can come with us instead. We’re heading for Bremen, and you’re sure to find something better than death if you join us. You have a fine voice! Why don’t you come sing with us? We’re sure to be a great success.”
The rooster let them talk him into it, and the four of them continued on the journey together. It was already getting dark, and since it was impossible to get to Bremen that day, they decided to spend the night in the forest they had reached. The donkey and the dog found a spot to sleep under a tall tree. The cat and the rooster settled down for the night in the tree’s branches, although the rooster—just to be on the safe side—flew up to the very top of the tree. Before going to sleep, he decided to take a good look in every direction, and he happened to notice a light burning in the distance. He let his companions know that there must be a house nearby, for he had seen some sign of life.
The donkey said: “I’m all for leaving this place and trying our luck elsewhere. This place isn’t really all that comfortable.” The dog said he wouldn’t mind having a bone or two, and if there was some meat on those bones, that would be all the better. And so they headed off in the direction of the light, which grew more and more vibrant until they reached a brightly lit house where some robbers were living.
The donkey, who happened to be the tallest, went up to the window and peered into the house. “What do you see, Old Gray?” the rooster asked.
“What do I see?” the donkey replied. “I can see a table covered with good things to eat and drink. The robbers are sitting down at it, and they’re having a good time.”
“That sounds like just the thing for us,” said the rooster.
“I’ll say! If only we could get inside,” the donkey said.
The animals went into a huddle to figure out how to chase the robbers out of there, and finally they hit on a plan. The donkey got up on his hind legs and put his front legs down on the window ledge; the dog jumped up on the donkey’s back; the cat climbed up on the dog; and finally the rooster flew up to the very top and perched on the cat’s head.
When they were in formation, someone gave a signal, and they started making their music: the donkey brayed, the dog barked, the cat meowed, and the rooster crowed. Then they came crashing into the room through the window to the sound of shattering glass. The robbers, who were sure that a ghost had burst into the room, nearly jumped out of their skins in terror and fled into the woods.
The four good fellows sat down at the table, happy to make do with leftovers, and they ate as if they were planning to go on a starvation diet the very next day. When the minstrels had finished eating, they put out the light and each one looked for a place that would be just the right size, and comfortable to boot. The donkey settled down on the dung heap, the dog behind the door, the cat over where the ashes were still warm, and the rooster perched on a roof beam. They had no trouble falling asleep right away, for they were exhausted by the long journey.
Shortly after midnight the robbers took a look at their house and saw that the lights were out. Everything seemed to be quiet. The captain of the band announced: “We shouldn’t have abandoned ship so quickly,” and he ordered one of the robbers to go over and investigate. The scout noticed that there was no sound at all in the house, and so he went into the kitchen to make some light. He saw the cat’s glowing, fiery eyes and mistook them for live coals. When he held up a match to them, thinking he could get a light, the cat, who didn’t have a sense of humor at all, flew into the robber’s face, spitting and scratching. Scared out of his wits, the robber took off and was hoping to get out the back door when the dog, who happened to be lying right in his way, jumped up and bit him in the leg. The robber managed to cross the yard, but when he got to the dung heap, the donkey gave him a good swift kick with his hind legs. The rooster, who had been roused from his slumber and was now wide awake, crowed out from his perch: “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
The robber fled back to his captain as fast as his legs would carry him and reported: “There’s a hideous old witch back there in the house. She hissed at me and scratched my face with her long claws. And there’s an old guy behind the door with a knife, and he stabbed me in the leg. In the yard I ran into a huge black monster that started beating me with a big, wooden club. Up on the roof there was a judge who started shouting: ‘Bring me that scoundrel!’ And so I got out of there as fast as I could.”
After that the robbers didn’t dare return to their house, and the four Bremen musicians enjoyed it so much that they decided not to leave.
And the lips of the person who last told this story are still warm.
THE DEVIL AND HIS
THREE GOLDEN HAIRS
nce upon a time there was a poor woman who gave birth to a son. He was born with a caul, which was considered good luck, and a fortune-teller predicted that he would marry the daughter of a king when he was fourteen years old. One day the king came to the village, and no one recognized him. When he asked people if anything of interest had happened in the town, they replied: “A few days ago a child was born with a caul. Fortune will smile on him no matter what he does. A fortune-teller also said that he would marry the daughter of the king when he reached the age of fourteen.”
The king was irritated by the prophecy, and on top of that he had a wicked heart. He went to meet the boy’s parents and pretended to be friendly and said: “You are poor people. If you let me raise your child, I will take good care of him.” At first they refused, but the stranger offered them a generous amount of gold and they began to think: “Fortune has smiled on him, and this will all turn out for the best.” And so they consented and gave him their child.
The king put the boy in a box and rode off with him until he found some deep waters. Then he plunged the box in the water and thought: “Now I’ve liberated my daughter from an undesirable suitor.”
The box didn’t sink but ended up floating like a little ship, and not a drop of water got into it. It floated to a point that was about two miles from the king’s capital city, where it got caught in a dam by a mill. Fo
rtunately a miller’s apprentice was standing near the water and saw it. Thinking that he might have found a great treasure, he pulled it toward shore with a big hook. When he opened the box, he discovered a beautiful baby boy, as hale and hearty as you can imagine. He brought him to the miller and his wife, who didn’t have any children of their own and who were delighted when they saw the boy. They said: “This is God’s gift to us.” They took good care of the foundling, and he was raised to be virtuous and honest.
One day the king was caught in a storm, and he found shelter at the mill. He asked the miller and his wife if the boy was theirs. “No,” they replied. “He’s an orphan. Fourteen years ago he came floating down to the mill in a box, and our apprentice fished him out of the water.” Then the king realized that it was the lucky lad he had thrown into the water, and he said: “Do you think that that fellow could take a letter to my wife, the queen? I’ll be happy to give him two gold pieces as a reward.”
“As the king wishes,” the miller and his wife said, and they told the boy to get ready. The king wrote the queen a letter that read: “As soon as the boy bearing this letter arrives, I want you to have him killed and buried. You must take care of this before I return.”
The boy got on the road to deliver the letter, but he lost his way, and when night fell he ended up in the woods. Although it was dark, he could make out a little light, and he worked his way toward it and found a hut. When he walked in, he saw an old woman sitting all alone by the fire. She was frightened when she saw the boy and asked him: “Where are you coming from and where are you going?”
