The path wound along through the trees, and, as it grew wider after
turning a corner, Red Riding-saw that she was likely to have
company on her walk; for, where two cross-paths divided, there sat a
big gray wolf licking his long paws, and looking sharply about him.
And "Good morning, Red Riding-Hood," said he.
"Good morning, Mr. Wolf," she answered.
"And where may you be going, sweet lass?" said the Wolf, as he walked
beside her.
"Oh, Grannie isn't very well, and mother cannot leave the
cheese-making this morning, and so I'm taking her some little dainties
in my basket, and I am to see how she is, and tell mother when I get
back," said the child with a smile.
"And," said the wolf, "where does your good Grannie live, little
lady?"
"Through the copse, and down the hollow, and over the bridge, and
three meadows after the mill."
"Does she indeed?" cried he. "Why, then, I do believe she is a very
dear old friend of mine, whom I have not seen for years and years.
Now, I'll tell you what we'll do, you and I: I will go by this way,
and you shall take that, and whoever gets there first shall be the
winner of the game."
So the Wolf trotted off one way, and Red Riding-Hood went the other;
and I am sorry to say that she lingered and loitered more than she
ought to have done on the road.
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