Little Miss Run-for-your-lives

Mademoiselle Sauve-qui-peut (or Little Miss Run-for-your-lives)



Philippe Corentin’s brilliant little take on the Red Riding Hood story can be purchased in its paper back version for $10.00 from Amazon (along with many of his other hilarious and beautifully illustrated children’s books).


I haven’t found an English translation of Mademoiselle Sauve-qui-peut (which I translate as Little Miss Run-for-your-lives) so I here offer my own:


Little Miss Run-for-your-lives

Once upon a time there was a little girl, the most mischievous one that has ever been known.


She dreamt of nothing but of teasing and of playing pranks on everyone. She was a real little vixen.


She never stopped. “Pif! Paf! Pouf! Et patapouf!” It’s really very simple: she was such a pest that everywhere she went, she was known as “Little Miss Run-for-your-lives”.


“Et boum! Et badaboum!” She was indefatigable.


But her pranks, after a while, left nobody laughing.


So one morning, her mother, beyond herself, told her “Stop already! That’s enough. You’re making me crazy! Look, instead of driving me nuts, get yourself to your grandmother’s house. Bring her this little cake and this small pot of butter.”

“Et zou!” Off she went! Run for your Lives!

“Et hop!” The next thing you know, she was at her grandmothers.  Knock! Knock!




But at her grandmother’s house…nobody was there. “Mamie, mamie!” No mamie. A hearty stew cooking that smelled delicious, but no mamie.


“Mamie, mamie! It’s only me. Don’t be afraid.”


“Mamie, mamie! Where ARE you?”


“She’s not here. That’s strange…Hmm. Now's my chance to prank her by making her bed sheets into an envelope” it suddenly occurred to Little Miss Run-for-your-lives. “Hee, Hee!. Let’s have a good laugh.”


“But Mamie, what are you doing here in bed? Why didn’t you answer when I called? Are you sick?”


“Do you have a toothache mamie? Poor mamie. Let me have a look…Oh! But your teeth are all huge!”

“And your tongue…Have you seen your tongue, how huge it is and how it’s all white?”


“And your eyes…Have you seen your eyes, mamie? They’re bulgy and all yellow. Did you swallow something without chewing properly? Do you have a booboo in your tummy?”


“Give me a break Mr. Wolf. Do you really think I don’t know how to tell the difference between a wolf and a grandmother? Come on. Up you get! Out you go!”

“Allez, zou! OUT! And get a move on! Do you want me to get pissed off for real Mr. Wolf. Who do you take me for? Little Red Riding Hood or something?”


“Stop, you miserable child!” said the grandmother, entering. “Leave him alone. It’s only a poor little creature that I found in the snow banks, dying of cold and hunger.”


“Allez. Come instead to the table. I have a lovely stew for dinner,” said the grandmother. “No, no, mamie, I’ve got to run. I’ve go all sorts of things to do,” her granddaughter replied, giving her a big kiss. “Well at least give me a big hug,” said the grandmother. “No, no mamie, I’ve gotta run.”

“Is it over? Is she gone? Asked Mr. Wolf anxiously. “Of course,” replied the grandmother. “For sure?” “Mais oui, I’ve already reassured you. It’s the end of that story and in any event, it’s the last page.” “Ouf,” said Mr. Wolf. “What a tale!...”