He looked around to see if he could find a pair of boots like those in the picture.
To his delight he saw in a corner the very pair he wanted, and they had red tops, too. He slipped them on and looked at himself in an old cracked mirror which stood against the wall.
On a peg near by hung a cap, dusty, but not a bit shabby or worn. Placing it on his head, he hunted around until he found an old cane with a bent handle. "There's a cane in the picture—I suppose they called it a staff in those days; at any rate, I'm now complete; I'm a real Puss in Boots, Junior!" and with these words he scampered down the stairs as fast as he dared, not yet being used to his new-found boots.
"Hurray!" he cried, as he reached the front door, and he took a hop, skip, and jump across the piazza, holding his tail gracefully in his left paw. "Hurray!"
Down the steps he skipped, two at a time, down the walk to the gate, his heels clattering on the stone pavement, rat-a-tat-tat, like a cavalryman. The road was dusty, but he went along gaily, the sun shining on the bright-red tops of his boots, making him very proud indeed.
He hadn't gone very far when he heard a funny little squeak, and, looking to the side of the road from which the sound came, he saw a small pig stuck between two boards in the fence.
"Squeak, squeak! Oh, help me out!" cried Piggie.
Puss in Boots, Jr., ran up and, with the help of his cane, pried the boards apart so that the little pig could just squeeze himself through. "Squeak, squeak! Oh, thank you!" cried the little fellow. "I wish I could do something to repay you!"
"You can," replied Puss, Jr., who had by this time grown very hungry, "I would like something to eat."
"Come with me," said Piggie. "Mother always gets some milk from the dairymaid about this time. Come." And he took Puss, Jr., by the front paw and started to run across the field.