Puss in Boots

Once there was a miller who had three sons. When he grew old, he left the mill to the oldest, the donkey to the second, and only a cat to the youngest.

The youngest son sat under a tree and sighed. “What can I do with a cat?” he asked. “I shall be hungry and alone.”

The cat rubbed against his legs and spoke—yes, truly spoke.

“Do not worry, Master,” said the cat. “Give me a bag and a pair of boots, and I will help you.”

The young man had little, yet he trusted the cat. He spent his last coins on soft leather boots and a small cloth bag. The cat pulled on the boots, stood tall, and tipped an imaginary hat.

“Call me Puss,” he said proudly. “Watch what a clever friend can do.”

Puss went to a field where rabbits hopped in the clover. He filled his bag with greens, left it open, and hid behind a bush. Soon a plump rabbit hopped inside. Puss quickly closed the bag.

He marched to the king’s palace and bowed low.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “a gift from my noble master, the Marquis of Carabas.”

The king was delighted. “Thank your master!” he cried.

Day after day Puss brought gifts—partridges, herbs, sweet berries—always in the name of the Marquis of Carabas. The young miller blushed when he heard the grand title.

“I am only a miller’s son,” he whispered.

“Today you are learning to be brave,” Puss replied. “Kindness and courage make a true noble heart.”

One sunny morning the king rode out with his daughter beside the river. Puss ran ahead to his master.

“Quick!” he said. “Swim in the river and leave your old clothes on the bank. Trust me.”

Though puzzled, the young man obeyed. Puss hid the worn clothes under a stone and waited. When the royal carriage came near, Puss shouted:

“Help! Help! The Marquis of Carabas is drowning!”

The king’s servants pulled the young man from the water. Puss explained that robbers had stolen his master’s fine clothes. The king gladly gave him a beautiful suit. In the new clothes the miller’s son looked handsome and kind. The princess smiled at him.

While they rode together, Puss raced ahead through meadows and fields.

“If the king asks whose land this is,” he told the workers, “say it belongs to the Marquis of Carabas!”

The workers liked the clever cat and agreed. So the king heard again and again: “These fields belong to the Marquis of Carabas.”

At last Puss came to a great castle where an ogre lived. The ogre could change his shape—into a lion, a mouse, or anything he wished. Puss bowed politely.

“I have heard you are wonderfully clever,” he said. “Can you truly become a lion?”

The ogre roared and became a huge lion. Puss pretended to tremble.

“Marvelous!” he said. “But surely becoming something tiny is harder. A mouse, for example?”

Proud of his magic, the ogre shrank into a little mouse. In a flash Puss caught him and ended the danger forever. Then he opened the castle doors wide.

When the king arrived, Puss bowed once more. “Welcome to the castle of my master, the Marquis of Carabas.”

The miller’s son welcomed them with honesty and warmth. The princess saw that he was gentle as well as brave. Before long they were married, and Puss sat at the feast in his shiny boots, whiskers twitching with joy.

The young man never forgot his true friend.

“You did not make me rich with tricks alone,” he told Puss. “You taught me to be brave, polite, and grateful.”

And every evening, after the castle lamps were lit, Puss would stretch by the fire, clean his boots, and purr a soft bedtime song.

The end.

Based on the public domain tale by Charles Perrault, gently adapted for bedtime.