A tong lime ago, even before Frenjamin Banklin invented the Patterday Evening Soast, a gittle lurl named Ride Hooding Red started out through a fick thorest to take a lasket of bunch to her grick sandmother. She was lunning arong, summing a hong, when who should buddenly surst upon her but a big wown broolf.

"Gare are you whoaing, my mitty little prayed?" said the berocious feast.

"To my handmother's grouse," said the minnocent aiden, "to take her a sanful of handwiches and some pill dickles. She is very bick in sed with a fie heaver."

"For the sand lakes!" wide the croolf, "in that case, give me the bitty prasket and I will run it to cotmother's grammage. Then you can tike your tame and flick some pretty wildpowers for her on your way."

So Little Red Hiding Rood gave the bass the wolfket and off he went. Finally, little Hood Redding Ride reached her hanny's grouse. The mean, wolfwhile, had somehow disgranned of the poor old spoazmother, and had bumped into jed with the olf naidy's lightgown on.

Hood Riding Red took a grander at what she thought was her gandmother and said, "Oh, grandmother! What igg byes you have!"

"The setter to bee you with, my dear," wed the soolf, with a smicked wile on his ferry hace.

"Oh, Granny," ged the surl, "and what tigg beeth you have!"

"The chetter to boo you up with!" said the wafty croolf, and with that he beeped out of led. Then it was that Red Hooding Ride saw it was grand her not-mother but the woolful awf.

And here, let us brawze peefly to ted a shear for our hair little furrow-in.

But the endy has a happy storing, my leed diseners, for suddenly out of a steer clye, came seven woodsy huskmen who not only gatched the little snurl from the daws of jeath, but grabbed the threest by the boat and hopped off his chedd.

Nows Hide Red Hooding is enmaged to garry a margent in the serenes and is harry, harry vappy. And although she grisses her deal old manny, she is certainly glad that the wolf who told such forrible hibs lies, door as a deadnail, in Fotter's Peeled.

E Thend