One day, Little Red Riding Hood was skipping along the path through the forest towards her Grandma's house. She carried a basket full of goodies - new bread, scones, currant buns - her mother had made for Granny. Suddenly a shadow fell across the path, and she stopped, almost mid-skip.

"And where are you going to, my pretty maid?" a voice asked.

"I'm going to my Grandmother's," she told him. "But take a look at you! You're in the wrong fairy story! If you think I'm going a milking, sir, you're wrong."

"I'm so sorry, my dear," the voice, soft and dark as velvet, continued. "Allow me to accompany you. There are dangerous people at large in this forest." They walked on together, side by side, the lecher and the little girl. At last they reached a place where the path split in two. Little Red Riding Hood made to take the left fork.

"Come this way," said Wolf (for it was indeed he). "It is a short cut to your Grandmother's." He turned to the right, and ingenuous Little Red Riding Hood followed him. Darker and darker became the forest as they penetrated its utmost, dangerous depths. At last, even innocent Little Red Riding Hood became suspicious.

"Where are we?" she asked, tearfully. Wolf took her by the arm and turned off the path, plunging even deeper between the dark, threatening trees. At last, they reached a clearing.

"Sit here and rest a while," he said, kindly. She did so, grateful to take the weight from her little legs. He sat beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"And what is in your basket, my dear?" he asked. She listed all the goodies her mother had made for her Grandmother. Fruit pies and jam tarts, meat pasties and new-made bread. Current buns. And milk fresh from their cow.

"It sounds quite wonderful," he said, his hand on her shoulder straying down onto her little flat chest. Then his other hand was on her knee, and sliding steadily up under her skirt. Alarmed, she jumped to her feet, and, leaving her basket behind, ran from the clearing. Wolf stood, stretched, and picked up the basket. Then he strolled the hundred yards to Grandmother's house, hidden from view in a little glade. He knocked at the door......(cont)