Ah, what did she see! The house door was wide open; the tables and
chairs were upset.

The washtub was broken in pieces, and the bed was tipped over.

"Where are my dear children?" cried the poor goat.

At last she heard a little voice crying, "Dear mother, here I am in the
tall clock."

The old goat helped the little goat out.

Soon she learned how the wolf had eaten her dear children.

Then she went out of the hut, and there on the grass lay the wolf sound
asleep.

As the goat looked at the wicked old wolf, she thought she saw something
jumping about inside him.

"Ah," she said, "it may be that my poor children are still alive."

So she sent the little kid into the house for a pair of scissors and a
needle and some thread.

She quickly cut a hole in the side of the wicked old wolf.

At the first snip of the scissors, one of the kids stuck out his head.