The French fairy tales, as first written. Newly translated, complete.

Once upon a time there was a little village girl, the prettiest that was ever seen; her mother was mad about her, and her grandmother madder still. This good woman had a little red riding hood made for her, which suited her so well that everywhere she was called Little Red Riding Hood.

One day her mother, having baked and made some cakes, said to her, “Go and see how your grandmother is doing, for I have been told she is ill; take her a cake and this little pot of butter.” Little Red Riding Hood set off at once to go to her grandmother’s, who lived in another village. Passing through a wood she met neighbor Wolf, who very much wanted to eat her, but dared not, because of some woodcutters who were in the forest. He asked her where she was going; the poor child, who did not know that it is dangerous to stop and listen to a wolf, said to him, “I am going to see my grandmother, and to take her a cake with a little pot of butter that my mother is sending her.” “Does she live very far away?” said the wolf to her. “Oh yes,” said Little Red Riding Hood, “it’s beyond the mill that you see way down there, down there, at the first house in the village.” “Well,” said the wolf, “I want to go and see her too; I’ll go by this road here, and you by that road there, and we’ll see which of us gets there first.” The wolf set off running with all his might along the road that was the shortest, and the little girl went off by the longest road, amusing herself gathering hazelnuts, running after butterflies, and making bouquets of the little flowers she came across. The wolf was not long in reaching the grandmother’s house; he knocks: Tap, tap. “Who’s there?” “It’s your girl Little Red Riding Hood,” said the wolf, disguising his voice, “bringing you a cake and a little pot of butter that my mother is sending you.” The good grandmother, who was in her bed because she was feeling a little unwell, called out to him, “Pull the peg, and the latch will fall”; the wolf pulled the peg, and the door opened. He threw himself on the good woman and devoured her in less than no time; for it was more than three days since he had eaten. Then he shut the door and went and lay down in the grandmother’s bed, to wait for Little Red Riding Hood, who some time later came knocking at the door. Tap, tap. “Who’s there?” Little Red Riding Hood, who heard the wolf’s deep voice, was frightened at first, but thinking that her grandmother had a cold, answered, “It’s your girl Little Red Riding Hood, bringing you a cake and a little pot of butter that my mother is sending you.” The wolf called out to her, softening his voice a little, “Pull the peg, and the latch will fall.” Little Red Riding Hood pulled the peg, and the door opened. The wolf, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself in the bed under the blanket, “Put the cake and the little pot of butter on the bread chest, and come and lie down with me.” Little Red Riding Hood undresses and goes to get into the bed, where she was quite astonished to see how her grandmother looked in her nightclothes; she said to her, “Grandmother, what big arms you have!” “It’s to embrace you better, my girl.” “Grandmother, what big legs you have!” “It’s to run better, my child.” “Grandmother, what big ears you have!” “It’s to listen better, my child.” “Grandmother, what big eyes you have!” “It’s to see better, my child.” “Grandmother, what big teeth you have!” “It’s to eat you.” And, saying these words, this wicked wolf threw himself on Little Red Riding Hood and ate her.