My gramma was German, and she used to take me on her lap and read stories from this very gruesomely illustrated book of German language stories, like a little boy who refused to stop sucking his thumbs, so a tailor came along with huge shears and cut off his thumbs (much blood spurting), or another little boy who refused to eat his soup and got as skinny as a piece of string until he died, or a kid who played with matches and burned herself up, or another kid who never cut his hair or fingernails. The stories were pretty short, but my gramma read them in this really dramatic German, V E R Y S L O W L Y, milking every phrase, making them as scary as possible and pointing to each detail in the pictures, describing them in German and English.
I wish I still had that book ... I used to beg her to read me those stories! Yikes!
This may have been it.
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