Once upon a time there was a miller who left no more riches to the three
sons he had than his mill, his ass, and his cat. The division was soon
made. Neither the lawyer nor the attorney was sent for. They would soon
have eaten up all the poor property. The eldest had the mill, the second
the ass, and the youngest nothing but the cat.

The youngest, as we can understand, was quite unhappy at having so poor
a share.

"My brothers," said he, "may get their living handsomely enough by
joining their stocks together; but, for my part, when I have eaten up my
cat, and made me a muff of his skin, I must die of hunger."

The Cat, who heard all this, without appearing to take any notice, said
to him with a grave and serious air:--

"Do not thus afflict yourself, my master; you have nothing else to do
but to give me a bag, and get a pair of boots made for me, that I may
scamper through the brambles, and you shall see that you have not so
poor a portion in me as you think."

Though the Cat's master did not think much of what he said, he had seen
him play such cunning tricks to catch rats and mice--hanging himself by
the heels, or hiding himself in the meal, to make believe he was
dead--that he did not altogether despair of his helping him in his
misery. When the Cat had what he asked for, he booted himself very
gallantly, and putting his bag about his neck, he held the strings of it
in his two forepaws, and went into a warren where was a great number of
rabbits. He put bran and sow-thistle into his bag, and, stretching out
at length, as if he were dead, he waited for some young rabbits, not yet