Once there was a young maid who, while tending her woolly sheep, would often mend clothes or sometimes play her wooden flute. While pleasing grazing animals with music, gentle creatures, from the surrounding woods, would also come to listen and little birds would chirp along with the beautiful silvery sounds she piped.
She was whistling, one day, when a loud crack of a twig behind her caused her to stop. Looking ‘round, she found herself gazing into eyes of a gaunt giant wolf.
“Silly girl," it snapped harshly, " do you think your playing can only be heard by these small creatures? Because of the sound, I have heard, followed, and found! A pasture full of food, but you my dear will be dinner tonight!”
Frightened she could not move with the wolf menacing ever closer, snipping and snarling, with big teeth bared. Suddenly, a loud BANG! filled the air. The wolf howled painfully once, and fell dead on the ground. Looking up from the body, the shaking maid saw the handsome woodsman walking towards her.
“I heard your lovely flute and when you stopped playing, decided to come ask if you might play a bit more, for it makes my chores rather enjoyable. Now it seems I’ve fur enough for a new coat, though need to find someone to sew it.”
Her brown doe eyes filled with tears of gratitude. Softly she said “Kind sir, I will gladly make your coat for you,” and picking up her flute resumed playing for him.
A few years later, sitting around the fireplace, she would tell her young children this story and their father, in his big shaggy fur coat, would always play the part of the big bad wolf, growling and howling in just the right spots.
She was whistling, one day, when a loud crack of a twig behind her caused her to stop. Looking ‘round, she found herself gazing into eyes of a gaunt giant wolf.
“Silly girl," it snapped harshly, " do you think your playing can only be heard by these small creatures? Because of the sound, I have heard, followed, and found! A pasture full of food, but you my dear will be dinner tonight!”
Frightened she could not move with the wolf menacing ever closer, snipping and snarling, with big teeth bared. Suddenly, a loud BANG! filled the air. The wolf howled painfully once, and fell dead on the ground. Looking up from the body, the shaking maid saw the handsome woodsman walking towards her.
“I heard your lovely flute and when you stopped playing, decided to come ask if you might play a bit more, for it makes my chores rather enjoyable. Now it seems I’ve fur enough for a new coat, though need to find someone to sew it.”
Her brown doe eyes filled with tears of gratitude. Softly she said “Kind sir, I will gladly make your coat for you,” and picking up her flute resumed playing for him.
A few years later, sitting around the fireplace, she would tell her young children this story and their father, in his big shaggy fur coat, would always play the part of the big bad wolf, growling and howling in just the right spots.
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