Now the wolf heard the mother goat call to her kids, and one day, when she had gone off to the woods, he ran to the hut and cried in his thick voice:

"My kiddies own,

My children dear,

Open the door

And never you fear.

Your mother has come,

She has brought you some milk,

It runs from her udders

Like a ribbon of silk!"

And the kids called back:

"We hear you, whoever you are, but that isn't our mother's voice! Mother's voice is thin and the words she says are different."

What was the wolf to do?

He went to a smithy and asked the blacksmith to forge him a new throat and make his voice very, very thin. The blacksmith forged him a new throat, and the wolf ran to the goat's hut and hid behind a bush.

By and by the mother goat came home from the woods. She knocked at the door and called to her kids:

"My kiddies own, my children dear,

Open the door, for your mother is here!

She has brought you some milk which is rich

������������������������������������������������������ and sweet,

It runs from her udders down to her feet;

From her udders it runs without a sound

And trickles softly over the ground."

The kids opened the door for their mother and began telling her about the wolf and how he had wanted to eat them up.

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