A TREASURY OF STORIES, JINGLES AND RHVMES.

tough,” he said, “but the little girl will be a delicate
morsel.”

But Little Red Riding Hood lingered on in the wood.
It was so bright and fresh there. Everything was happy
and full of life. She chased the dainty butterflies for
very glee, and then she gathered a posy of primrosés and
violets for the old grandmother, who could not get out and
see the spring flowers grow. At last, tired with her play,
she set off to reach her grandmother’s cottage.

She knocked at the door, and the wolf, softening his
voice as much as possible, called out: “Pull the bobbin and
the latch will lift up.” Little Red Riding Hood opened
the door and walked in.

“Put the basket on the table, and come into bed with
me,” said the wolf, “for I feel cold.” Little Red Riding
Hood thought that her grandmother’s voice was very hoarse,
but then she remembered that this might be on account of her
bad cold, and being an obedient little girl, she gotinto bed.

But when she saw the hairy arms she began to grow
frightened. “What long arms you have, grandmother.”

“The better to hug you with, my dear!”

Then she saw the long ears sticking up outside the night-
cap. “ What great ears you have, grandmother.”

“Phe better to hear you with, my dear!”

‘What large eyes you have, grandmother.”

‘The better to see you with, my dear!”

“But what great teeth you have, grandmother.” “The
better to eat you with, my dear!” And so saying, the

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