The old woman, although her behavior was so kind, was a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had built the little house on purpose to entice them.
The wolf thought to himself, ‘That tender young thing would be a delicious morsel, and would taste better than the old one.’
‘Granny!’ Red Riding Hood cried, ‘What very long arms you have got!’ The Wolf answered, ‘The better to hug you, my child.’
The poor child said to the Wolf: ‘I am going to see my grandmother, and carry her a custard and a little pot of butter from my mamma.’
There came a very bad year, and the famine was so great that these poor people resolved to rid themselves of their children.
No man could travel alone through Sherwood Forest, without being stripped of his money.
When Christmas-time approached, quite young trees were felled, sometimes trees which were neither so old nor so large as this Fir Tree. These young trees were just the most beautiful.
Sir Bertrand was now in total darkness; and, with his arms extended, began to ascend the stair-case. A dead cold hand met his left hand, and firmly grasped it, drawing him forcibly forward.