Puss in Boots
A poor miller's son, a clever cat in fine boots, and a castle won by wits
Page 1
In a sunny corner of the French countryside, beside a slow green river, there stood an old watermill. It had belonged to a miller who, when he died, left all he had to his three sons. To the eldest he left the mill, to the second the donkey, and to the youngest — nothing at all but the family cat. The poor young man sat down on the riverbank and sighed, sure that he would starve, for what use was a cat? But this was no ordinary cat. He sat up on his hind legs, looked his master in the eye, and spoke: if the young man would only buy him a pair of good boots and a stout sack, the cat promised, he would make his master's fortune. The young man had nothing to lose, and so he agreed.
Page 2
The young man scraped together his very last coins and bought the cat exactly what he had asked for: a fine pair of tall leather boots, a feathered hat, and a good strong sack with a drawstring. The cat pulled on his new boots, set the hat at a jaunty angle, slung the sack over his shoulder, and strutted up and down the cottage floor, admiring himself. He looked so splendid and so pleased that his master could not help laughing out loud. Then, with a wink and a flourish of his hat, the cat dropped a little bran and some fresh greens into the bottom of his sack, propped it open on the floor, and trotted off out of the door toward the meadows — leaving his puzzled master wondering what on earth a cat in boots could possibly be planning.
Page 3
Out in the sunny meadows and warrens, the cat set to work. He laid his sack open on the grass, hid himself quietly behind it, and waited. Before long a plump, curious rabbit came hopping along, sniffed the fresh greens, and climbed right inside — and quick as a flash the cat pulled the drawstring tight and caught him. He did the same with a brace of fat partridges among the wheat. But the cat did not take his catch home to eat. Instead he threw the sack over his shoulder, straightened his hat, and marched off boldly down the road toward the King's palace, rehearsing a very grand speech under his breath — for he had thought of a clever way to make the King take notice of his master.
Page 4
At the palace, the cat marched straight into the great throne hall, swept off his feathered hat in a magnificent bow, and laid his gift before the King. 'Your Majesty,' he announced grandly, 'my noble master, the Marquis of Carabas, sends you this rabbit and these fine partridges with his compliments.' The King had never heard of any Marquis of Carabas — for the cat had invented the splendid title on the spot — but he was delighted with the gift, and said so warmly. Over the next weeks the cat came again and again, always with something fine from fields and streams, always 'from the Marquis of Carabas,' until the King and all his court were quite sure that this mysterious marquis must be a very great and generous lord indeed.
Page 5
One day the cat learned that the King would be driving along the river road with his daughter the princess. Quick as ever, he ran to his master and told him to go and bathe in the river at a certain spot, and to leave the rest to him. No sooner was the young man in the water than the King's carriage came rolling by — and the cat ran out waving his hat and crying for help: 'Oh please, the Marquis of Carabas is drowning, and worse, a thief has run off with all his fine clothes!' (In truth the cat had simply hidden his master's plain old shirt under a stone.) The kind King at once sent for a splendid suit of his own, and when the young man stepped out dressed like a true nobleman, he looked so handsome that the princess smiled at him straight away.
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While his master rode along in the royal carriage, chatting happily with the princess, the cat raced on ahead down the road. Everywhere he passed reapers cutting the wheat and mowers gathering the hay, he stopped just long enough to give them a friendly but very firm instruction: when the King asked whose land this was, they must all answer that it belonged to the Marquis of Carabas. The country folk, charmed and amused by the splendid talking cat, agreed. So as the King's carriage rolled on, he leaned out again and again to ask who owned all these fine golden fields, and every time the answer came back the same — 'the Marquis of Carabas, Your Majesty' — until the King was more impressed with the young man than ever.
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All these fine fields, though, really belonged to a rich and terrible ogre who lived in the great castle on the hill — and it was to that castle that the cat now hurried, well ahead of the King. Puss had heard that the ogre was not only enormously rich but enormously proud of his magic, able to change himself into any creature he pleased. The cat straightened his hat, marched boldly up to the huge castle gate, and asked very politely to pay his respects, saying he could not pass so grand a castle without calling on so famous and clever a lord. The ogre, who was as vain as he was large, was flattered to have such a well-mannered visitor, and bade the cat come in.
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Inside, the ogre turned out to be a huge, round, boastful fellow, very pleased with himself. The cat bowed low and said he had heard the most astonishing thing — that the great ogre could change himself into any animal at all, even a mighty lion. 'Change into a lion? Ha! Watch this!' cried the ogre, delighted to show off — and in a puff of smoke there stood a great roaring lion where the ogre had been. Puss, who really was a little startled, scrambled up onto the top of a tall cupboard, his hat askew, and called down his loudest applause. It was all part of his plan; for the cleverest trick was still to come, and the vain ogre had no idea that his own showing-off was about to be his undoing.
Page 9
The ogre, puffed up with pride, could not resist the challenge. 'A mouse? Child's play!' he boomed. 'Watch and be amazed!' There was another puff of smoke — and where the great ogre had stood, there was now only a tiny, squeaking little mouse, blinking on the flagstones. That was exactly what the clever cat had been waiting for. With a joyful bound Puss leapt down from the cupboard; the startled little mouse gave one indignant squeak and scurried away as fast as its tiny legs could carry it, straight out of the castle door, and was never, ever seen again. And just like that, by cleverness alone, the whole great castle and all its lands belonged to no one but the Marquis of Carabas.
Page 10
Just then the King's carriage came rolling up to the castle, and there at the gate stood the cat, bowing grandly. 'Welcome, Your Majesty,' he cried, 'to the castle of my master, the Marquis of Carabas!' The King was astonished and delighted to find that the fine young man he liked so well was lord of such a magnificent place, with all those golden fields besides. A great feast was laid in the ogre's old hall, and before the day was out the King happily gave the young man the hand of the princess, who had liked him from the very first. And as for the clever cat — he became a great lord himself, in the finest boots in the kingdom, and after that he chased mice only now and then, and only ever for the fun of it.
About this story
- Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
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