O
nce upon a time there were
seven little kid goats, who
lived with their mother
in a house in the forest.
When the time came for
the mother goat to go off to
market, she gathered her
kids around, and warned them:
“Be very careful, my dears. Don’t ever
open the door while I’m gone! There’s a Big
Bad Wolf who roams about in our forest.
You’ll recognize him by his deep, harsh
voice and his rough, black paws. Don’t let
him in…or he’ll gobble you up!”
And off she went.
S
oon after, the seven little kids heard
a loud knock-knock-knocking at the
door.
“Open up, little goats,”
growled
a voice, “this is your dear old mother.
I’ve brought home a surprise for you all!”
The kids were just about to open the door
when the smallest of the seven – who was
the cleverest of them all – cried out, “Stop!
Your voice is too deep! Your voice is too
harsh! You’re not our mother, you’re the
Big Bad Wolf!” And they kept the door
safely bolted.
B
ut the Big BadWolf was hungry, and
he’d set his heart on delicious, fresh
little goats for lunch. So he sat on the
doorstep and thought and thought…
And soon he had come up with a cunning
plan.
He slipped away through the forest to the
village store and stole some chalk, which he
used to smooth his voice, then he raced back
to the goats’ house and knocked at the door
for a second time.
Knock-knock-knock.
This time the voice that the kids heard
was gentle and sweet. “Open up, little
goats,” it said, “this is your dear old mother.
I’ve brought you all a surprise!”
“She really does have a gentle, sweet
voice!” cried the delighted little goats. “She
really is our mother. Unbolt the door!”
But just as they were about to open up, the
smallest of the seven—and the cleverest of
The Wolf
and the Seven Little Goats
them all—peeked through the crack under
the door and saw the wolf’s long black paws.
“Stop!” cried the littlest goat. “Your paws
are too rough! Your paws are too black!
You’re not our mother, you’re the Big Bad
Wolf!” And they kept the door safely bolted.
N
ow the Big Bad Wolf was hungrier
than ever. Once again he sat on
the doorstep and thought and
thought… And soon he had come
up with an even more devious plan!
He sloped away through the forest to the
miller’s and stole some flour, which he used
to whiten his paws, then he raced back to
the goats’ house.
For the third time that morning, they
heard a knock-knock-knocking at the door.
“Open up, kiddies, this is your dear old
mother. I’ve brought you all a surprise!”
This time the voice was gentle and sweet.
And the paws showing through the crack
under the door were soft and white, not
black.
“She really does have a gentle, sweet
voice!” cried one delighted little goat.
“She really does have soft, white paws!”
cried another.
“She really is our mother!” cried a third.
“Unbolt the door!”
And so they did.
T
here stood the Big Bad Wolf. What
a shock for those poor little goats!
They tried their best to hide, but the
Big Bad Wolf was too fast for them.
Quick as a flash, the greedy animal gobbled
them up.
Except for the smallest of the seven—the
cleverest of them all—who managed to
sneak inside the old wooden grandfather
clock, and there he waited.
A
n hour later, the mother goat
returned home from the market. She
saw at once that something terrible
had happened. The house was a
mess, all topsy-turvy with things strewn
all over the floor—and where, oh where
were her kids? Growing ever more frantic,
she called to each in turn, but received no
answer.
Only when she got to the seventh and
littlest did she hear a small voice calling,
“I’m still here, Mother! I’m in the grand
father clock!”
So the littlest kid climbed out of his
hiding place and told his mother what had
happened to his brothers and sisters. They
both cried bitterly.
Later, when they had dried their tears,
the mother goat stood up and cleared her
throat. “Right,” she said. “Let’s go and find
that wolf.”
N
ot far from the house, they came
upon the Big Bad Wolf lying under
a tree, snoring away, sleeping off his
enormous meal.
But as the mother goat and the littlest
kid watched him…Wait! What was that?
Something seemed to be moving inside his
fat, full belly – he had swallowed the six
little goats whole, and they were still alive!
The mother goat quickly hatched a plan.
She sent her littlest kid home to fetch all the
things she needed.
He soon came trotting back with pair of
sharp scissors, a long needle and some black
thread.
The two of them crept quietly over to
the snoring wolf. The mother goat gently
snipped open his fat belly and out climbed
those six little goats, unhurt!
Then they gathered six big rocks, laid
them in the sleeping wolf’s belly, and sewed
him back up. Soon the mother goat and her
seven kids were back home, safe and sound.
B
efore long, the Big Bad Wolf woke
up. After all those hours lying in
the sun, he was terribly thirsty!
He struggled to his feet and dragged
himself over to the nearby well, muttering:
“My, those six little goats I ate this
morning are like rocks in my belly! I feel
mighty peculiar…”
When he reached the well, he leaned over
to take a drink…but the weight of those six
big rocks pulled him down into the well…
and the Big Bad Wolf was never seen or
heard from again.
