Children's stories, French -- Translations into English; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- France
Provided one has common sense,
And of the world but knows the ways,
This story bears the evidence
Of being one of bygone days.
No husband now is so terrific,
Impossibilities expecting:
Though jealous, he is still pacific,
Indifference to his wife affecting.
And of his beard, whate'er the hue,
His spouse need fear no such disaster;
Indeed, 'twould often puzzle you
To say which of the twain is master.
MASTER CAT; OR, PUSS IN BOOTS
A miller bequeathed to his three sons all he possessed of worldly goods,
which consisted only of his Mill, his Ass, and his Cat. It did not take
long to divide the property, and neither notary nor attorney was called
in; they would soon have eaten up the poor little patrimony. The eldest
son had the Mill; the second son, the Ass; and the youngest had nothing
but the Cat.
The latter was very disconsolate at having such a poor share of the
inheritance. "My brothers," said he, "may be able to earn an honest
livelihood by entering into partnership; but, as for me, when I have
eaten my Cat and made a muff of his skin, I must die of hunger." The
Cat, who had heard this speech, although he had not appeared to do so,
said to him with a sedate and serious air, "Do not be troubled, master;
you have only to give me a bag, and get a pair of boots made for me in
which I can go among the bushes, and you will see that you are not left
so badly off as you believe." Though his master did not place much
reliance on the Cat's words, he had seen him play such cunning tricks in
catching rats and mice, when he would hang himself up by the heels, or
hide in the flour pretending to be dead, that he was not altogether
without hope of being helped by him out of his distress.
As soon as the Cat had what he asked for, he boldly pulled on his boots,
and, hanging his bag round his neck, he took the strings of it in his
fore-paws, and started off for a warren where there were a great number
of rabbits. He put some bran and sow-thistles in his bag, and then,
stretching himself out as if he were dead, he waited till some young
rabbit, little versed in the wiles of the world, should come and poke
his way into the bag, in order to eat what was inside it.
He had hardly laid himself down before he had the pleasure of seeing a
young scatterbrain of a rabbit get into the bag, whereupon Master Cat
pulled the strings, caught it, and killed it without mercy. Proud of his
prey, he went to the palace, and asked to speak to the King. He was
ushered upstairs and into the state apartment, and, after making a low
bow to the King, he said, "Sire, here is a wild rabbit, which my Lord
the Marquis of Carabas--for such was the title he had taken a fancy to
give to his master--has ordered me to present, with his duty, to your
Majesty."
"Tell your master," replied the King, "that I thank him and am pleased
with his gift."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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