Little Red-Cap, however, had been running about picking flowers, and
when she had gathered so many that she could carry no more, she
remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way to her. She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and when she
went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that she said to
herself, “Oh dear! how uneasy I feel to-day, and at other times I like
being with grandmother so much.” She called out, “Good morning,” but
received no answer; so she went to the bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and
looking very strange. “Oh! grandmother,” she said, “what big ears you have!”

“The better to hear you with, my child,” was the reply. “But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!” she said. “The better to see you with, my dear.”

“But, grandmother, what large hands you have!”

“The better to hug you with.”

“Oh! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!”

“The better to eat you with!”

And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was out of
bed and swallowed up Red-Cap. When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed,
fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The huntsman was just passing
the house, and thought to himself, “How the old woman is snoring! I
must just see if she wants anything.” So he went into the room, and
when he came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying in it. “Do I
find thee here, thou old sinner!” said he. “I have long sought thee!”
Then just as he was going to fire at him, it occurred to him that the
wolf might have devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be
saved, so he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to
cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two snips,
he saw the little Red-Cap shining, and then he made two snips more, and
the little girl sprang out, crying, “Ah, how frightened I have been! How dark it was inside the wolf;” and after that the aged grandmother
came out alive also, but scarcely able to breathe. Red-Cap, however,
quickly fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf’s body,
and when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy
that he fell down at once, and fell dead. Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf’s skin
and went home with it; the grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine
which Red-Cap had brought, and revived, but Red-Cap thought to herself,
“As long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to run into
the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.”

                            * * * * * * *

It is also related that once when Red-Cap was again taking cakes to the
old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to entice her
from the path. Red-Cap, however, was on her guard, and went straight
forward on her way, and told her grandmother that she had met the wolf,
and that he had said “good-morning” to her, but with such a wicked look
in his eyes, that if they had not been on the public road she was
certain he would have eaten her up. “Well,” said the grandmother, “we
will shut the door, that he may not come in.” Soon afterwards the wolf
knocked, and cried, “Open the door, grandmother, I am little Red-Cap,
and am fetching you some cakes.” But they did not speak, or open the
door, so the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round the house, and at
last jumped on the roof, intending to wait until Red-Cap went home in
the evening, and then to steal after her and devour her in the
darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his thoughts. In front of
the house was a great stone trough, so she said to the child, “Take the
pail, Red-Cap; I made some sausages yesterday, so carry the water in
which I boiled them to the trough.” Red-Cap carried until the great
trough was quite full. Then the smell of the sausages reached the wolf,
and he sniffed and peeped down, and at last stretched out his neck so
far that he could no longer keep his footing and began to slip, and
slipped down from the roof straight into the great trough, and was
drowned. But Red-Cap went joyously home, and never did anything to harm
any one. 27 The Bremen Town-Musicians

A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks to the
mill indefatigably for many a long year; but his strength was going,
and he was growing more and more unfit for work. Then his master began
to consider how he might best save his keep; but the donkey, seeing
that no good wind was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to
Bremen. “There,” he thought, “I can surely be town-musician.” When he
had walked some distance, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping
like one who had run till he was tired. “What are you gasping so for,
you big fellow?” asked the donkey. “Ah,” replied the hound, “as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and no
longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I took to flight; but
now how am I to earn my bread?”

“I tell you what,” said the donkey, “I am going to Bremen, and shall be
town-musician there; go with me and engage yourself also as a musician. I will play the lute, and you shall beat the kettledrum.”

The hound agreed, and on they went. Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face like
three rainy days! “Now then, old shaver, what has gone askew with you?”
asked the donkey. “Who can be merry when his neck is in danger?” answered the cat. “Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to stumps, and I
prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than hunt about after mice,
my mistress wanted to drown me, so I ran away. But now good advice is
scarce. Where am I to go?”

“Go with us to Bremen. You understand night-music, you can be a
town-musician.”

The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the three
fugitives came to a farm-yard, where the cock was sitting upon the
gate, crowing with all his might. “Your crow goes through and through
one,” said the donkey. “What is the matter?”

“I have been foretelling fine weather, because it is the day on which
Our Lady washes the Christ-child’s little shirts, and wants to dry
them,” said the cock; “but guests are coming for Sunday, so the
housewife has no pity, and has told the cook that she intends to eat me
in the soup to-morrow, and this evening I am to have my head cut off. Now I am crowing at full pitch while I can.”

“Ah, but red-comb,” said the donkey, “you had better come away with us. We are going to Bremen; you can find something better than death
everywhere: you have a good voice, and if we make music together it
must have some quality!”

The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on together. They could
not, however, reach the city of Bremen in one day, and in the evening
they came to a forest where they meant to pass the night.