51 Tales translated to English by Lucy Crane & Illustrated by Walter Crane

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But the wolf had put up his black paws against the window, and the goslings seeing this, cried out,
" We will not open the door; our mother has no black paws like you; you must be the wolf."
The wolf then ran to a baker.
" Baker," said he, " I am hurt in the foot; pray spread some dough over the place."
And when the baker had plastered his feet, he ran to the miller.
" Miller," said he, " strew me some white meal over my paws." But the miller refused, thinking the wolf must be meaning harm to some one.
" If you don't do it," cried the wolf, " I'll eat you up !"
And the miller was afraid and did as he was told. And that just shows what men are.
And now came the rogue the third time to the door and knocked. " Open, children!" cried he. " Your dear mother has come home, and brought you each something from the wood."
" First show us your paws," said the goslings, " so that we may know if you are really our mother or not."
And he put up his paws against the window, and when they saw that they were white, all seemed right, and they opened the door; and when he was inside they saw it was the wolf, and they were terrified and tried to hide themselves. One ran under the table, the second got into the bed, the third into the oven, the fourth in the kitchen, the fifth in the cupboard, the sixth under the sink, the seventh in the clock-case. But the wolf found them all, and gave them short shrift; one after the other he swallowed down, all but the youngest, who was hid in the clock-case. And so the wolf, having got what he wanted, strolled forth into the green meadows, and laying himself down under a tree, he fell asleep.
Not long after, the mother goose came back from the wood; and, oh! what a sight met her eyes ! the door was standing wide open, table, chairs, and stools, all thrown about, dishes broken, quilt and pillows torn off the bed. She sought her children, they were nowhere to be found. She called to each of them by name, but nobody answered, until she came to the name of the youngest.
"Here I am, mother," a little voice cried, "here, in the clock-case."