The mother thought them wise and went
To the far-off forest quite content;
But she was scarcely away, before
There came a rap at the door.

"Open, open, my children dear,"
A gruff voice cried: "your mother is here."
But the young ones answered, "No, no, no,
Her voice is sweet and low;

"And you are the wolf--so go away,
You can't get in, if you try all day."
He laughed to himself to hear them talk,
And wished he had some chalk,

To smooth his voice to a tone like geese;
So he went to the merchant's and bought a piece,
And hurried back, and rapped once more.
"Open, open the door,

"I am your mother, dears," he said.
But up on the window ledge he laid,
In a careless way, his great black paw,
And this the goslings saw.

"No, no," they called, "that will not do,
Our mother has not black hands like you;
For you are the wolf, so go away,
You can't get in to-day."