The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids

"The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids" is a classic fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm. It tells the story of a mother goat and her seven kids, and the cunning wolf who is trying to eat them. The mother goat goes out for food, warning her kids to not open the door to anyone except her. But the wolf, with his deceptive techniques, ultimately succeeds in tricking the kids and eats them. However, the story takes an interesting turn when the mother goat returns and rescues her kids from the wolf's belly. The book is a cautionary tale that teaches children about the dangers of trusting strangers.

• Children

								
There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and
loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day she
wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called all
seven to her and said: ‘Dear children, I have to go into the forest,
be on your guard against the wolf; if he comes in, he will devour you
all--skin, hair, and everything. The wretch often disguises himself, but
you will know him at once by his rough voice and his black feet.’ The
kids said: ‘Dear mother, we will take good care of ourselves; you may go
away without any anxiety.’ Then the old one bleated, and went on her way
with an easy mind.

It was not long before someone knocked at the house-door and called:
‘Open the door, dear children; your mother is here, and has brought
something back with her for each of you.’ But the little kids knew that
it was the wolf, by the rough voice. ‘We will not open the door,’ cried
they, ‘you are not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice, but
your voice is rough; you are the wolf!’ Then the wolf went away to a
shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this and made
his voice soft with it. Then he came back, knocked at the door of the
house, and called: ‘Open the door, dear children, your mother is here
and has brought something back with her for each of you.’ But the wolf
had laid his black paws against the window, and the children saw them
and cried: ‘We will not open the door, our mother has not black feet
like you: you are the wolf!’ Then the wolf ran to a baker and said: ‘I
have hurt my feet, rub some dough over them for me.’ And when the baker
had rubbed his feet over, he ran to the miller and said: ‘Strew some
white meal over my feet for me.’ The miller thought to himself: ‘The
wolf wants to deceive someone,’ and refused; but the wolf said: ‘If you
will not do it, I will devour you.’ Then the miller was afraid, and made
his paws white for him. Truly, this is the way of mankind.

So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked at
it and said: ‘Open the door for me, children, your dear little mother
has come home, and has brought every one of you something back from the
forest with her.’ The little kids cried: ‘First show us your paws that
we may know if you are our dear little mother.’ Then he put his paws
in through the window and when the kids saw that they were white, they
believed that all he said was true, and opened the door. But who should
come in but the wolf! They were terrified and wanted to hide themselves.
One sprang under the table, the second into the bed, the third into the
stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth into the cupboard, the
sixth under the washing-bowl, and the seventh into the clock-case. But
the wolf found them all, and used no great ceremony; one after the
other he swallowed them down his throat. The youngest, who was in
the clock-case, was the only one he did not find. When the wolf had
satisfied his appetite he took himself off, laid himself down under a
tree in the green meadow outside, and began to sleep. Soon afterwards
the old goat came home again from the forest. Ah! what a sight she saw
there! The house-door stood wide open. The table, chairs, and benches
were thrown down, the washing-bowl lay broken to pieces, and the quilts
and pillows were pulled off the bed. She sought her children, but they
were nowhere to be found. She called them one after another by name, but
no one answered. At last, when she came to the youngest, a soft voice
cried: ‘Dear mother, I am in the clock-case.’ She took the kid out, and
it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all the others. Then
you may imagine how she wept over her poor children.

At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran with her.
When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree and snored
so loud that the branches shook. She looked at him on every side and
saw that something was moving and struggling in his gorged belly. ‘Ah,
heavens,’ she said, ‘is it possible that my poor children whom he has
swallowed down for his supper, can be still alive?’ Then the kid had to
run home and fetch scissors, and a needle and thread, and the goat cut
open the monster’s stomach, and hardly had she made one cut, than one
little kid thrust its head out, and when she had cut farther, all six
sprang out one after another, and were all still alive, and had suffered
no injury whatever, for in his greediness the monster had swallowed them
down whole. What rejoicing there was! They embraced their dear mother,
and jumped like a tailor at his wedding. The mother, however, said: ‘Now
go and look for some big stones, and we will fill the wicked beast’s
stomach with them while he is still asleep.’ Then the seven kids dragged
the stones thither with all speed, and put as many of them into this
stomach as they could get in; and the mother sewed him up again in the
greatest haste, so that he was not aware of anything and never once
stirred.

When the wolf at length had had his fill of sleep, he got on his legs,
and as the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he wanted to
go to a well to drink. But when he began to walk and to move about, the
stones in his stomach knocked against each other and rattled. Then cried
he:

 ‘What rumbles and tumbles
  Against my poor bones?
  I thought ‘twas six kids,
  But it feels like big stones.’

And when he got to the well and stooped over the water to drink, the
heavy stones made him fall in, and he drowned miserably. When the seven
kids saw that, they came running to the spot and cried aloud: ‘The wolf
is dead! The wolf is dead!’ and danced for joy round about the well with
their mother.
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