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