meal off whoever it was. But when he saw the two men enter, one with the
axe and the other with the lantern, he began to feel horribly
uncomfortable, especially as he could not run away quickly, because he
was so fat from eating the grandmother and Red Riding Hood. Red Riding
Hood's father saw in a minute what had happened, and he flung his axe at
the wolf and cut him open. Immediately the grandmother and Red Riding
Hood jumped out of the wolf's inside, and the wolf made straight up the
chimney.

"I think we've got him now," said Red Riding Hood's father: "make up the
fire, Granny, and we'll put on the big porridge-pot full of hot water,
and some savoury soup in it to smell nice."

So they made up the fire, and put on the great pot, full of hot water,
and then they poured some soup into it; and when it boiled, the savoury
smell went up the chimney.

"_Aughrr!_" said the wolf; "how nice that smells; I feel quite hungry
again." So he put his head and forelegs into the chimney as he stood on
the roof, and, as he bent further in to catch the smell, all of a sudden
he lost his balance, and fell headlong down the chimney, and into the
great pot, and was killed.

So they all went home safely, and when Red Riding Hood's mother put her
to bed, she said, "Never you stop when you're out to talk to strange
creatures ever any more." And Red Riding Hood, who was only too glad to
have got safely out of the wolf's inside, promised faithfully that she
never would.

CINDERELLA;

OR,

THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

There was once a very rich gentleman who lost his wife; and having loved
her exceedingly, he was very sorry when she died. Finding himself quite
unhappy for her loss, he resolved to marry a second time, thinking by
this means he should be as happy as before. Unfortunately, however, the
lady he chanced to fix upon was the proudest and most haughty woman ever
known; she was always out of humour with every one; nobody could please
her, and she returned the civilities of those about her with the most
affronting disdain. She had two daughters by a former husband, whom she
brought up to be proud and idle: indeed, in temper and behaviour they
perfectly resembled their mother; they did not love their books, and
would not learn to work; in short, they were disliked by everybody. The
gentleman on his side, too, had a daughter, who, in sweetness of temper
and carriage, was the exact likeness of her own mother, whose death h