PUSS IN BOOTS.
'THERE once was a miller, who lived till he died—
It's been done by a good many people beside;
But this miller, you see,
In particular—he,
On the brink of the grave—"on the banks of the dee,"
As a Scotchman would say (vide song "Annie Laurie;"
It North-country short is
For articula mortis)—
Made a will, whence arises the whole of my story.
Three sons had this miller,
To whom all his "siller," *
Stock, business, premises, goodwill, and "wilier"—
A tenure, in short, not to spin out my verse, on all
Things he died "seised" of, both real and personal,
(Exclusive, of course, of the very bad cough
With which he was seized—and which carried him off)
He had to devise—
And, as you would surmise,
Would divide in accordance with ages and size.
But no!—not a bit!
He hadn't the wit
For such a division—or didn't see fit;
* Though with terms Caledonian this story is filled,
You 'll find it, I hope, only scotched, and not killed.
But made a partition
So strange in condition
That to one 't was a blow—for the others a hit.
It is half after one,
The funeral 's done,
The reading should now of the will be begun.
The youngest is crying,
The others are trying
To think who's most colour for praising the dying;
Their loss doesn't grieve,
Since it does not bereave
Them of all that their father was able to leave.
(Though "where there s a will," says the proverb, you know,
There's always a Way"—there's not always a Woe.)
When the will is recited
They both are delighted,
For it proves their young brother is cruelly slighted.
For joy they with decency scarce can bemean them
When they find that their dad
Every thing that he had
Has left them, the eldest, to own all between them,
Save one thing—and that
Is only the cat,
Which he leaves to the youngest, described as "that brat."
The youngest, poor lad! didn't care what he had,
By the loss of a father, not fortune, made sad.
But as silent he sat, nursing his cat,
And quite at a loss what he next should be at,
Each brother, addressing him sternly as Nemesis,
(Who, the Greeks say, less just and more cruel than Themis is,)
Said, "Now then, young Lazybones! Clear off the premises!''
He asked for some bread and some straw for a bed,
And he'd work like a slave for his brothers, he said.
But they both answered, "No! you'd much better go:
We shall have to assist you along if you're slow!"
So, half broken-hearted, the poor lad departed,
And thus in the world for himself he was started.
'T was a poorish look out,
Of that there's no doubt;
He'd not an idea what he'd best set about.
So, much to be pitied,
The old mill he quitted.
The door gave a slam—
Not one pang was spared for him—
He sat by the dam,
And that nobody cared for him
He could not help feeling—and what was prepared for him!
Thus he sat, while big tear-drops his eyes were suffusing,
Nor speaking a word,
Till he suddenly heard,
As he was a-musing, his cat, too, a mew sing.
"Ah, Puss," he said, "you
Are unfortunate too;
I'm inclined to think yours the more serious disaster
In having a penniless wretch for a master."
Puss, thus addressed, his master caressed,
And then in plain language his feelings expressed.
"Dear master," said he, "just leave it to me;
You shall see, then, I promise, what then you shall see.
I 'll at once undertake
Your fortune to make,
And assist you to wreak your revenge on those brutes;
And all that I want is a new pair of boots!"
The notion was funny:
He hadn't much money,
But as nothing more hopeful appeared to be done, he
Went off to a cobbler, who lived in a stall,
And ordered the boots to be made—rather small.
New boots, too! Not shabby, old, worn-out, and holey 'uns,
But a spick-and-span pair of resplendent Napoleons.
The boots arrived, the bill was paid,
And Pussy an excursion made.
Some snares he prepares,
To take dozens of hares,
And a wire that will grab its
Quantum of rabbits;
Without burning cartridges,
Catches some partridges
And several pheasants;
And bears them as presents
To the court of the King—I can't tell you his name,
But history reports he was partial to game.
Day after day the cat brought his prey
In numbers sufficient to load a big dray,
Or the cart which they call in the Crimea an arabah;
And each single thing
He brought to the King
"With the loyal respects of the Marquis of Carabas."
Said the monarch one day, "Come, tell me, I pray,
Whereabouts is the Marquis's property, eh?
The cat, as requested, the quarter suggested
Where the lands lay whose fee in the Marquis was vested.
Said the monarch, "Hooray!
I'll drive over that way:
Tell the Master of Horse just to bring round the chay."
In a moment at that off went the cat
At what modern slang styles "a terrible bat,"
Faster and faster, till, reaching his master,
He cried, "Of your clothes be at once off a caster,
And jump in the river that runs by the path!"
"In the river—" "Don't talk, sir, but pray go to bath!"
On the bank Pussy stayed, while his master obeyed;
But the Royal procession so long was delayed
That he felt very cold in the stream, I'm afraid.
At last, "Here they come!" cried Pussy: "now, mum
Is the word!" Said his master, "With cold I am numb,
But, while my teeth chatter so, cannot be dumb."
Said the cat, "My young friend, to this warning attend;
If you do, it will all turn out well in the end.
You've good fortune at hand, and the path's very quick to it,
So keep a look-out,
Mind what you 're about,
And whatever I say, say you likewise—and stick to it!"
[Original Size] -- [Medium-Size]
Then crafty Puss goes
And hides all the clothes
With grass and dead leaves; and when he perceives
The royal coach nearing him, loudly calls "Thieves!"
His cries the whole neighbourhood round might awaken—
"The Marquis of Carabas' clothes have been taken!"
Said the King, "Deary me!
What is it I see?
My good friend the cat up a tropical tree?"
Ah," said Puss, "my dear master has had a disaster,
For some one has cut—" "Cut! Oh, here's some court plaster."
"No, sire," said the cat,
"He doesn't want that.
He needs no court plaster, but needs a court suit;
For while he was bathing some mannerless brute,
Who had chosen the reeds and the rushes to lurk in,
Cut away with his hosen, knee-breeches, and jerkin."
"Is that all?" said the King;
"My servants shall bring
Whatever is needful—cloak, stockings, cap, sword, robe,
Gloves, collar, and doublet—in short, a whole wardrobe,
Each thing that he wants,
From castor to pants."
[Of course, you 're aware when a king takes the air
He's provided with changes of clothing to spare—
At least, so this legend would seem to declare.]
The servants produce for the Marquis's use
A rich velvet suit with gold trimmings profuse,
A rich velvet mantle with a lining of satin,
A diamond brooch stuck a point-lace cravat in,
While another the ostrich plume fastened the hat in.
These elegant clothes
Were couleur de rose,
With trimmings of green and with apple-green hose,
With noeuds of ruban, to encase his stout mollets (For further particulars, please see Le Follet).
Our hero, attired in the garb thus acquired,
By the King's lovely daughter was greatly admired,
Who sat (as before I intended to state) on
The right of her pa in the royal "phe-ayton."
But I'm bound to confess
Our hero no less
Was charmed by her grace and her beauty in turn—
For if she liked his looks, he was ravished with "hern
Said the King, "My dear Marquis, it's really a treat
Thus to fall in with one I 've been dying to meet.
Pray take a seat,
And let me repeat
How much I'm obliged for your numerous presents
Of partridges, rabbits, grouse, woodcocks, and pheasants.
We 're going for a drive—pray enter the carriage.
Here's my daughter—she's yours, if you wish it, in marriage.
Any news? None, I fear:
Bread's still getting dear,
But the weather is fine for the time of the year.
I suppose we are passing here through your estate?"
So the King rattled on,
But the old miller's son,
Unable to answer, sat scratching his pate,
But Pussy cut in with, "Yes! though he's in doubt of it;
And for why? Dash my wig!
Because it's so big
He never can tell if he's in it or out of it.
But your Majesty, p'rhaps,
Will order your chaps
To drive to the castle, which certainly caps
Any castles you'll meet in a long summer day;
And, if you 'll allow me, I'll show them the way."
To Pussy's request the King promptly accedes,
Bids his coachman to follow wherever he leads,
And away the cat sped
A long way ahead
On a road that was bordered by corn-land and meads.
Pussy well knew
That the land they passed through
Belonged to a wizard—a mighty one, too——
Who, besides with the Evil One being "colloguer,"
(Don't think I, in quoting from "Arrah na Pogue," err:
It's what Shaun the Post says to Feeney,—the rogue—urgh!) *
Was that Middle Aged cannibal known as an ogre.
But where'er in the fields, as on they kept going,
They came upon labourers reaping or mowing,
Or ploughing or harrowing, weeding or sowing—
The cat ran before,
And cried out, "Give o'er!
Your master commands!" and the workmen forebore.
Said Puss, "He 'll approach
In a splendid state-coach,
And has sent me before him these tidings to broach,
And to bid you, unless you wish demons to tease you,
If the King, his companion, inquires who employs you,
With one voice in a moment, men, women, and boys, you
Must haste to declare,
With a satisfied air,
'The Marquis of Carabas, sire, an it please you!'
See! The carriage draws near!
Come, haste! Do you hear?
Quit all occupations,
And haste to your stations,
And give him the lowest of low salutations!"
[Original Size] -- [Medium-Size]
The poor people, afraid,
His orders obeyed.—
The Marquis himself became rather dismayed,
* This expletive, used to express utter loathing,
I scarcely can spell—
One really can't tell
How to put sounds in etymological clothing.
Thinking what was to end all these funny proceedings
Into which he was following Pussy's queer leadings;
But he felt he was sinned against rather than sinning
For Pussy strange fun
With the clothes had begun,
But what would the close be of such a beginning?
Still on Pussy speeds
By pastures and meads,
And the coachman still follows wherever he leads.
"Your estates are enormous—
Pray, Marquis, inform us,
If I may inquire,
Did they come from your sire?
He must really have been a most terrible lord,
Acquiring so much by the right of the sword.
I'm pleased to perceive,
With such riches to leave,
He'd a son of such merit
The wealth to inherit
Of so mighty a conqueror and enemy-killer."
"Yes," said the youth,
"To tell you the truth,
My late father had quite a renown as a miller."
The Princess smiled sweetly,
As if to hint neatly,'
Though she counted the father
A conqueror rather,
She fancied the son
Had a victory won—
In fact, she was sure—as the smile would infer—
About one of his conquests, and that was of her!
For she felt he was lord of her bosom completely.
And now the fields and meads they leave;
To right and left huge mountains rise,
And seem—so much their heights deceive—
With lofty crests to touch the skies.
Pine forests clothe their sombre sides,
Where dark ravines and gorges frown,
And many a mountain torrent glides,
Or bounds from ledge to ledge adown.
Their mighty wings the eagles flap
High up among the summits lone,
Whose peaks the snows eternal cap,
Or where the glacier billows groan.
But in the plain about the base
Of this portentous mountain chain,
The signs of human toil they trace,
And find men labouring again.
Here, turned by some wild torrent's force,
Huge wheels revolve with busy hum;
There some vast chasm stops their course,
Whose depths the eye would vainly plumb;
Or, laden deep on shrieking wheels,
Toil waggons up the steep inclines:
Their load the mystery reveals,—
This region is a place of mines!
As soon as Puss got to this desolate spot,
Addressing the miners, he kept up the plot.
"See your master approach
In the King's grand state-coach;
He has sent me before him, his orders to broach.
"'Then haste to your stations
And make him the lowest of low salutations'"
If you don't wish the gnomes and the kobolds to seize you,
When asked whom you obey,
Be certain to say,
'The Marquis of Carabas, sire, an it please you!'
When His Majesty's Grace
Appears on the place,
You must bow till each one touches earth with his face!"
To every word
That from Pussy they heard
The miners attended—
Low bowed and low bended;
And when the King came,
And asked them the name
Of their master, they answered him all just the same.
And I'd just hint to you
That as thus this whole crew
Of miners obeyed—minors always should do.
But now having passed through this wild tract at last,
They came to a plain greenly wooded and vast,
And spied out, half hid
A thick forest amid,
A castle that stood on the crest of a hill,
Or the brow of a rock—you may choose which you will;
For the hill was so steep
The road had to creep
Round and round from the baser
To the gates of the place,
Though Pussy went straight up the side at full chase,
While slowly around
The royal coach wound,
The horses got pretty well tired, I 'll be bound,
For such roads will e'en puzzle a nag that is sound.
Half-way to the top Puss in Boots made a stop
Not because he was tired and quite ready to drop,
But because he encountered a dame and her goodman
And child—by profession the man was a woodman—
And wished to inquire
Ere he went any higher
If this past all doubt was the castle and dwelling
Of the wizard of whom I have elsewhere been telling.
So, making a bow, he said, "Pray allow
Me to ask you one question that struck me just now—
That castle that rises
To dazzle our eyes is
The abode, I suppose, of a man of position:
[Original Size] -- [Medium-Size]
"The palace," said they, "of a mighty magician,
So harsh and severe he's regarded with fear
By all the poor people who dwell about here;
The best course, if you asked us, that we'd recommend to you,
Is not to go near him—he may put an end to you."
Said Puss, "Never fear, for I'll persevere
Till the neighbourhood I of this wicked one clear."
So he went on once more, till reaching the door
Of the castle, he gave with the knocker a score
Of such rat-tat-tat-tats, to the blush as would put man-
-Y thundering knocks by a real London footman.
The door was flung wide, and Puss stept inside,
But not an attendant there was to be spied—
Nought but a hand
Bearing a wand,
That pointed the way with a courtesy bland,
By corridors gorgeous, up staircases grand,
Through halls by arched ceilings, all painted, o'erspanned,
Along galleries brilliant with lovely stained windows,
Whose curtains were made
Of that Indian brocade
Which Great Britain, 't is said, to the conquest of Scinde owes;
Though the wizard of course got his curtains by witchcraft,
Not by merchant-ships, P. and O. steamers, or sich craft.
At length doth Puss enter
A hall in whose centre
The Ogre he spies, cui Cyclopius venter.
(Which, translated, would mean "as a matter of taste,
His figure and form ran a good deal to waist."
He has taken his seat,
Preparing to eat
An enormous repast of all manner of meat—
Beef, mutton, and veal, each in separate bowl—
And the different beasts are served up to him whole;
And there's one dish, moreover,
That Puss can discover,
That strikes him with horror and harrows his soul—
Babes of quite slender years (that means tender, not thin, age)
Piled up on a dish (and no gammon), and spinach.*
Puss, nothing daunted
(Although 't will be granted
The sight in some hearts might have terror implanted),
Walked straight to the board
Where the monster abhorred
At the servants attending him bellowed and roared;
And servants sure ne'er on their master attended
With such an unwilling respect as those men did!
"Rascals of mine!
Bring me some wine,
Or I 'll cut you in sunder from head-piece to chine!"
* In thus making spinach
'To rhyme as with Greenwich
I 'm authorised wholly
By Anthony Rowley,
Whose edito princeps (of course it's a foli-
-O) spells the word s.p.i.n.n.a.g.e—
And if any should know how to spell it, 't would be he.
Alarmed at the speaker,
One brought a big beaker
Of wine—one-tenth part had floored any one weaker.
But the Ogre held up the great glass to his eye
In a critical way,
Smacked his lips, just to say
"That 'll do!" and then all at one gulp drained it dry,
And set down the goblet. [I cannot see why
It is called so, and count as a regular puzzle it;
For since it's to drink,
Not to eat from, you'd think
They'd, instead of a "gobble-it," call it a "guzzle-it.">[
[Original Size] -- [Medium-Size]
Drawing near the huge chair with a reverent air,
With knee lowly bent, hand on heart, and head bare,
"Quite delighted, I'm sure," so Puss courteously spake,
"The acquaintance of one so distinguished to make,
For skill that's gigantic in arts necromantic,
Whose fame—not to speak it in terms sycophantic—
Is driving with envy all wizards quite frantic,
European, or Asian, or e'en Transatlantic!"
Here Puss bowed again with a courtier-like antic.
Even wizards, I fear, or so 't would appear,
Cannot always, unmoved, artful flattery hear.
The Ogre said, "Ugh!
Pray who are you?
In return for these compliments what can I do?
For since I'm not vain, it seems pretty plain
You would not tell me this without some hope of gain."
Says Pussy, "Quite right—you 're very polite—
Of your magical powers I'd fain have a sight.
There's one now report says is yours, the which borders
On what is impossible." "Pray give your orders,
And I 'll open your eyes with a little surprise,
And prove that report does not always tell lies."
"Well, since you're so kind—what a wonderful dodge I call
Is the power of assuming all shapes zoological—
Ape, bear, lion, elephant, wolf, hippopotamus
(The latter a beast
Scarcely known in the least
Till the Pacha of Egypt obliging got 'em us),
Tiger, peccary, leopard, gnu, paradoxurus;
Or e'en if you wish
A bird or a fish—
The penguin, for instance, or Buckland's silurus."
Said the Ogre, "He! he!
You quickly shall see—
That's only child's-play to a wizard like me!"
So without more ado, hands and knees on he sunk,
His ears turned to flaps, and his nose to a trunk,
And his form all at once took so quickly to swelling,
He threatened to knock off the roof of his dwelling.
"Bravo!" cried the cat; "that's capital, that!
You 're almost as big as the Heidelberg vat!
But can you now, please, with just as much ease
Into smaller dimensions at once yourself squeeze?
Say, turn from the elephant, big as the house,
Sans any embarrassment, into a mouse?"
Bulk, big legs, and trunk
Immediately shrunk!
In three seconds—no more—
Was a mouse on the floor
Where the elephant stood but an instant before.
At one bound, quick as thought,
That mouse Pussy caught,
And before any aid from his charms could be sought,
Or help could be had from the spirits who followed him,
Had given the magician one grip—and then swallowed him!
Then back to the door
Puss hastened once more,
Just in time to receive the state carriage and four.
He helped to descend
His master and friend,
Who was still in bewilderment how it would end,
And proceeded to bring
The Princess and the King
Through all the grand rooms,
Where pages and grooms—
Who were glad with the Marquis their old situations
To hold in the castle—made low salutations.
To cut my tale short,
They returned to the court,
And, since nobody wished their attachment to thwart,
The young folks were married,
And he his bride carried
To his castle, where happily ever they tarried;
And the cat was provided—
The King so decided—
With a cushion of silk
And a gallon of milk
Every day of his life till the day that he died-ed.
I 've only to add
The fortunate lad
Sent and fetched his two brothers so cruel and bad,
And recalling the past
To their memory, at' last
Told his present good fortune, which made them aghast;
And then, bidding them better in future behave them,
To be nobly revenged on them both—he forgave them!