The Gingerbread Man
Enjoy sharing The Gingerbread Man, alternately titled, The Little Gingerbread Man, with
pictures and decorations by Robert Gaston Herbert, 1910. We've taken the liberty to add
Gingerbread Man's taunting chant as he evades his captors throughout the story: "RUN,
RUN, FAST AS YOU CAN. YOU CAN'T CATCH ME, I'M THE GINGERBREAD MAN!"
This story is featured in our collection of Favorite Fairy Tales and Children's Stories.
ONE day, the cook went into the kitchen to make some gingerbread.
She took some flour and water, and treacle and ginger, and mixed them
all well together, and she put in some more water to make it thin, and
then some more flour to make it thick, and a little salt and some spice,
and then she rolled it out into a beautiful, smooth, dark-yellow dough.
Then she took the square
tins and cut out some square cakes for the little boys, and with some
round tins she cut out some round cakes for the little girls, and then she
said, “I’m going to make a little gingerbread man for little Bobby.” So she
took a nice round lump of dough for his body, and a smaller lump for his
head, which she pulled out a little for the neck. Two other lumps were
stuck on beneath for the legs, and were pulled out into proper shape,
with feet and toes all complete, and two still smaller pieces were made
into arms, with dear little hands and fingers.
But the nicest work was done on the head, for the top was frizzed up
into a pretty sugary hat; on either side was made a dear little ear, and in
front, after the nose had been carefully moulded, a beautiful mouth was
made out of a big raisin, and two bright little eyes with burnt almonds
and caraway seeds.
Then the gingerbread man was finished ready for baking, and a very
jolly little man he was. In fact, he looked so sly that the cook was afraid
he was plotting some mischief, and when the batter was ready for the
oven, she put in the square cakes and she put in the round cakes; and
then she put in the little gingerbread man in a far back corner, where he
couldn’t get away in a hurry.
Then she
went up to sweep the parlor, and she swept and she swept till the clock
struck twelve, when she dropped her broom in a hurry, and exclaiming,
“Lawks! the gingerbread will be all baked to a cinder,” she ran down into
the kitchen, and threw open the oven door. And the square cakes were
all done, nice and hard and brown, and the round cakes were all done,
nice and hard and brown, and the gingerbread man was all done too,
nice and hard and brown; and he was standing up in his corner, with his
little caraway-seed eyes sparkling, and his raisin mouth bubbling over
with mischief, while he waited for the oven door to be opened. The
instant the door was opened, with a hop, skip, and a jump, he went right
over the square cakes and the round cakes, and over the cook’s arm,
and before she could say “Jack Robinson” he was running across the
kitchen floor, as fast as his little legs would carry him, towards the back
door, which was standing wide open, and through which he could see
the garden path.
"RUN, RUN, FAST AS YOU CAN. YOU CAN'T CATCH ME, I'M THE
GINGERBREAD MAN!"
The old cook turned round as fast as she could, which wasn’t very fast,
for she was rather a heavy woman and she had been quite taken by
surprise, and she saw lying right across the door-way, fast asleep in the
sun, old Mouser, the cat.
“Mouser, Mouser,” she cried, “stop the
gingerbread man! I want him for little Bobby.” When the cook first called,
Mouser thought it was only some one calling in her dreams, and simply
rolled over lazily; and the cook called again, “Mouser, Mouser!” The old
cat sprang up with a jump, but just as she turned round to ask the cook
what all the noise was about, the little gingerbread man cleverly jumped
under her tail, and in an instant was trotting down the garden walk.
Mouser turned in a hurry and ran after, although she was still rather too
sleepy to know what it was she was trying to catch, and after the cat
came the cook, lumbering along rather heavily, but also making pretty
good speed.
Now at the bottom of the walk, lying fast asleep in the sun against the
warm stones of the garden wall, was Towser, the dog.
And the cook called out: “Towser, Towser, stop the gingerbread man! I
want him for little Bobby.”
