little lame boy, who could not keep up with the rest."]

The game began at once. Riding Hood started from the rear corner of the
room, basket on arm; her mother gave her strict injunctions as to
lingering on the way, and she returned a respectful "Yes, mother." Then
she trotted round the aisle, greeting the woodchopper on the way, to the
deep wood which lay close by the teacher's desk. There master wolf was
waiting, and there the two held converse,--master wolf very crafty indeed,
Red Riding Hood extremely polite. The wolf then darted on ahead and
crouched down in the corner which represented grandmother's bed. Riding
Hood tripped sedately to the imaginary door, and knocked. The familiar
dialogue followed, and with the words "the better to eat you with, my
dear!" the wolf clutched Red Riding Hood, to eat her up. But we were not
forced to undergo the threatened scene of horrid carnage, as the
woodchopper opportunely arrived, and stated calmly, "I will not let you
kill Little Red Riding Hood."

All was now happily culminated, and with the chopper's grave injunction as
to future conduct in her ears, the rescued heroine tiptoed out of the
woods, to her seat.

I wanted to applaud, but I realised in the nick of time that we were all
playing, and held my peace.

[Illustration: HIAWATHA PICTURES]

_The Fox and the Grapes_ was more dramatically done, but was given by a
single child. He was the chosen "fox" of another primary room, and had the
fair colouring and sturdy frame which matched his Swedish name. He was
naturally dramatic. It was easy to see that he instinctively visualised