  Lit-tle Ros-a-bel liked sto-ries the best of any-thing in the world; and she be-lieved that all her lit-tle pict-ure books were true, and O, how she did wish she were a stor-y-book girl her-self, and that such things would hap-pen to her. Dear lit-tle Ros-a-bel, she used to go out in the green lanes and grass-y dells and hunt for fair-ies, and list-en for talk-ing birds and talk-ing flow-ers. And one day lit-tle Ros-a- bel thought she would try one of the sto-ries and see if it would come true with her. She chose the sto-ry of "Lit-tle Red Rid-ing-hood," be-cause she had a red hood and be- cause she knew a poor old wom-an who lived a-lone in an old house. So she put a pat of but-ter and a cust-ard-pie in a lit-tle bask-et, tied on her red hood, and started a-way. But there were no woods to go through, and so no wolf came a-long. Ros-a-bel called "Wolf! Wolf!" man-y times, but no wolf came. When she came to the old house she tried to reach the big knock-er. But she couldn't, so she knocked with her lit-tle knuck-les. A ver-y thin, low voice said, "Lift the latch and come right in!" Ros-a-bel did, and there was a poor old grand-moth-er right in bed, just like the stor-y! "O, have you any-thing to eat in that bask-et?" said the voice. "I have sprained my an-kle and I can't walk, and there has no-bod-y been here for two days, and I am al-most starved, and I want some-bod-y to go for a doc-tor. Can you go?"
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