Puss in Boots

Tonight’s story comes from France. Charles Perrault wrote it down more than three hundred years ago, from tales people told in the French countryside, a land of wheat fields, windmills and castles on hills.

Long ago there was a miller who had three sons. When he died, he left exactly three things: his mill, his donkey and his cat. The eldest son took the mill. The second son took the donkey. The youngest son got only the cat.

The youngest son was miserable. “My brothers can earn a living. But me? Once I’ve eaten the cat and made a muff out of his fur, I’ll just starve.”

The cat heard every word. He sat up and said, very seriously, “Don’t worry, master. Just give me a bag, and have a pair of boots made for me so I can walk through the brambles. You’ll see you didn’t get such a bad share after all.”

The young man didn’t really believe him. But he knew this cat was clever and a great mouse-catcher. So he got him the boots and the bag.

The cat pulled on his boots, hung the bag round his neck and went off into a wood full of rabbits. He put some bran and lettuce in the bag, stretched out and played dead, and waited. Before long a young rabbit hopped into the bag to see what was inside, and the cat pulled the string tight.

He took the rabbit to the palace and asked to see the King. He bowed low and said, “Your Majesty, here is a rabbit which my master, the Marquis of Carabas, has sent me to give you.”

The Marquis of Carabas was a name the cat had made up for his master. The King thanked him and praised the gift.

The next day the cat hid in a wheat field, caught two partridges and took them to the King too. For months he went on like this, bringing gifts to the palace, each time saying they were from the Marquis of Carabas.

One day the cat heard that the King was going for a drive along the river with his daughter, the most beautiful princess in the world. The cat told his master, “Do just what I say. Go and bathe in the river at the spot I show you, and leave the rest to me.”

His master did. Just as he was bathing, the King’s carriage came by, and the cat ran out shouting, “Help! Help! The Marquis of Carabas is drowning!”

The King recognised the cat who brought him presents and sent his guards to pull the young man out. The cat then told the King that thieves had stolen his master’s clothes. In fact the cat had hidden them under a big stone himself. The King sent for one of his finest suits.

The young man was handsome already, and in fine clothes he looked even better. The princess liked him the moment she saw him. The King invited him to ride in the carriage with them.

The cat ran on ahead. When he came to some men mowing a meadow, he told them very sternly, “If the King asks whose meadow this is, you must say it belongs to the Marquis of Carabas.” He told the reapers in the wheat fields the same thing. When the carriage passed and the King asked, everyone said: the Marquis of Carabas. The King was most impressed.

The cat ran on to a beautiful castle. It belonged to an ogre, the richest in the land, who owned all the meadows and fields they had passed. The cat asked to pay his respects. Then he said, “I hear you can turn yourself into any animal at all, even a lion or an elephant?”

“That’s right,” said the ogre, and turned into a lion on the spot. The cat was so frightened he leapt up into the gutter on the roof, his boots slipping and sliding before he could hold on.

When the ogre turned back into himself, the cat climbed down and said, “Turning into a big animal must be easy. But I don’t suppose you could turn into something tiny, like a mouse?”

“Couldn’t I? Watch this!” The ogre turned into a mouse and went scampering across the floor.

Quick as a flash, the cat pounced, and that was that.

Just then the King’s carriage arrived at the castle gate. The cat ran out to meet it. “Your Majesty, welcome to the castle of the Marquis of Carabas!”

The King went in and found a splendid castle with a feast already laid out. He thought very highly of the young man, and the princess had truly fallen for him. Not long after, the miller’s youngest son married the princess.

And Puss in Boots became a great lord in the castle. From then on he never had to catch mice again, except when he felt like chasing one for fun.