A Visit to Grandmother

 

Well, folks, there once was a little gal, sweeter than a Georgia peach, livin' with her kinfolk down by the creek. Now, her momma doted on that girl somethin' fierce, always stitchin' up the prettiest dresses and whatnot. But the real showstopper was this here little red cloak and hood her momma made. Why, that hood fit snug as a tick on a hound dog, and the little gal looked so purty in it, they just up and called her Little Red Riding-Hood instead of Mary, bless her heart.

Now, Red Riding-Hood had a granny who was older than dirt, spendin' most of her days cuddled up in bed, weak as a newborn kitten. One fine day, Red Riding-Hood's momma packed a basket full of goodies – butter, eggs, a heapin' helpin' of wheatcake – and says, "Honey, take this here basket to your granny. But mind you, hightail it there and back, straight as a string! Don't you go dilly-dallyin' or talkin' to strangers, you hear?"

"Yes ma'am!" chirped Red Riding-Hood, basket in hand, and trotted off down the path. At first, she made good time, but then – well, them fields were just bursting with wildflowers, yellower than a gold coin and prettier than a speckled pup. "Granny sure would love a posy," Red Riding-Hood thought, and she started pickin' one here and another there until she had a whole mess of them.

Just then, who comes trottin' along but that ol' sly fox, the wolf himself! "Howdy, Red Riding-Hood," that varmint drawled. "Where you headin' with that basket on your arm?"

Red Riding-Hood, bless her innocent heart, told that ol' wolf all about her granny and the goodies she was takin'. The wolf, now he cottoned on to a right good plan, and after a friendly goodbye, he hightailed it into the woods, faster than a greased pig on ice!

See, there in the thick of the woods lived Red Riding-Hood's granny, in a little white house with a thatched roof. The wolf, bein' the connivin' critter he was, raced there and thumped on the door. No answer. He thumped some more, and still nothin'. Finally, he jiggled the handle, the door popped open, and that ol' wolf slunk right in.

Now, Red Riding-Hood's granny was feelin' spry that day, so she up and went visitin' a neighbor. The wolf, seein' his chance, rooted around and found her nightgown. He squeezed his hairy hide into it, plopped on a cap, stuck some spectacles on his snout, and hopped into bed, pullin' the covers right up to his chin.

Meanwhile, outside, a woodcutter was choppin' away at some trees. He saw that ol' wolf slinkin' into the house and thought to himself, "Now that there feller's up to somethin' no good!" The woodcutter grabbed his axe and snuck closer to keep an eye on things. Well, pretty soon, Red Riding-Hood came skippin' along, her basket full of wildflowers. The woodcutter didn't see her though, bein' fast asleep under a tree.

Red Riding-Hood knocked on the door, and the wolf, tryin' to sound all weak and feeble like her granny, croaked out, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Granny! Little Red Riding-Hood!" chirped the little gal.

The wolf told her to come on in, and Red Riding-Hood, peekin' in the dimly lit room, thought somethin' seemed mighty peculiar about her granny. "Granny, what big eyes you have!" she exclaimed.

"The better to see you with, my dear," the wolf rasped.

Red Riding-Hood kept pointin' out all the strange things – the long ears, the big sharp teeth. But before that ol' wolf could pounce, the woodcutter, awakened by the howlin', burst through the door! He swung his axe with all his might, and that there wolf went belly-up faster than a junebug in a hailstorm!

The woodcutter helped Red Riding-Hood up, calmed her down, and promised to walk her home safe and sound. They waited for the granny to return, who, after hearin' the whole story and seein' that sorry wolf sprawled on the floor, couldn't thank the woodcutter enough.