LITTLE RED RIDING-HOOD
PERSONS IN THE PLAY—Little Red Riding-Hood, Mother, Bird, Wolf, Miller, Grandmother
Scene I.—At Red Riding-Hood’s Home
Mother. Would you like to go to grandmother’s to-day, my child? The sun is bright and the air is warm and pleasant.
Little Red Riding-Hood. Yes, mother, you know I always like to visit dear grandmamma.
Mother. Then you may go. You may carry your little basket, and I’ll put some honey and a jar of butter in it for grandma.
Little Red Riding-Hood. Oh, that will be a nice present for her! And may I take her some flowers?
Mother. Yes, dear child. Gather some of those you like best.
Mother. Very pretty and sweet. Now put on your little red cloak and take the basket. Be very careful as you pass through the wood, and go directly to grandma’s house.
Little Red Riding-Hood. Yes, dear mother. Nothing will harm me. All the birds and animals love me and I love them.
Mother. Good-by, little daughter. Give me a kiss and take my love to dear grandmother.
Little Red Riding-Hood. Good-by, mamma: good-by!
Scene II.—In the Wood
Little Red Riding-Hood (singing).
How pretty it is here in the wood! Oh, what a lovely bed of moss! You must come with me, pretty green moss, to grandma’s house. Good morning, pretty bird: will you sing to me this morning?
Bird. Yes, little Red Riding-Hood. I will sing to you because you love all the birds and can understand my song. Soon I’ll show you my little birds who are just big enough to fly.
Little Red Riding-Hood. Thank you, dear bird, I shall be glad to see the cunning little things. But now I must hurry to grandmother’s with the butter and the honey. Good-by!
Bird. Good-by, little friend! Chirp, chirp; chirp, chirp!
Wolf. Ugh, ugh!
Little Red Riding-Hood. Oh! how you frightened me, Mister Wolf! Where did you come from?
Wolf. From my pretty cave, far, far in the dark wood, little girl. What is your name?
Little Red Riding-Hood. Why, don’t you know me? I’m little Red Riding-Hood.
Wolf. I’m a stranger in this place, little girl; but I shall know you the next time I see you—ugh, ugh! What have you in your pretty basket, little Red Riding-Hood? It smells like honey.
Little Red Riding-Hood. It is honey, Mr. Wolf. I am taking it to my dear grandmother.
Wolf. Are you all alone in the wood, my child? Isn’t your mother with you? Aren’t you afraid?
Categories: English Literature