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It was not long before someone knocked at the house-door and

called: 'Open the door, dear children; your mother is here, and

has brought something back with her for each of you.' But the

little kids knew that it was the wolf, by the rough voice. 'We

will not open the door,' cried they, 'you are not our mother. She

has a soft, pleasant voice, but your voice is rough; you are the

wolf!' Then the wolf went away to a shopkeeper and bought himself

a great lump of chalk, ate this and made his voice soft with it.