This is the whole tale, the same ten pages it runs in Pillowbook on the phone. Read it here tonight if that is easier. Nothing is cut, nothing asks you to sign up, and every picture was painted for this book.
Reading time is about five minutes at an unhurried pace, one page every thirty seconds or so. Cheerful from beginning to end. The cat bluffs; nobody is hurt.
When the old miller died there was the mill, and the donkey, and the cat, and three sons to divide them between. The eldest took the mill. The second took the donkey. The youngest was left standing in the yard holding a cat, and he sat down on the step and said, out loud and to nobody, that he did not see how this was going to work."A bag," said the cat, "and a pair of boots. Tall ones. Then say nothing to anybody for a fortnight." The youngest son had exactly enough for the boots and not much argument left in him. The shoemaker made them in russet leather, and the cat pulled them on in the mill doorway with the morning sun coming in, and stood up, and found that they suited him enormously.He put a handful of bran in the bag, left it open in a meadow, and lay down beside it looking like something that had died. Two rabbits went in. That afternoon he walked up to the castle in his boots and his plumed hat, swept the hat off, and presented them to the king with the compliments of his master the Marquis of Carabas, a gentleman the king had never heard of.After that it was partridges, and then more rabbits, and then a basket of trout. It went on for two months. The king began to look forward to Thursdays. He asked questions about the Marquis and got answers that were long and warm and entirely without facts, and by the end of it he felt he knew the man rather well and rather liked him.Then the cat learned that the king would drive along the river on Friday. He got his master into the water for a swim, hid his clothes under a stone, and stood at the roadside waving his hat and calling that the Marquis had been robbed. The king stopped at once. He had a spare coat in the carriage, and he was delighted to be of use.The cat went on ahead. He found mowers in a hayfield, sat on the gatepost, and told them what a fine thing it was to work land belonging to the Marquis of Carabas, and how the king himself was coming to see it, and would they like to be in a story. They said they would. They said it all afternoon, to everybody who asked.The castle at the end of the road belonged to a giant in a gaudy waistcoat, who could turn into anything at all and would tell you so before you had taken your hat off. The cat admired the waistcoat. The cat admired the hall. Then he said he had heard the giant could be a lion, but had not believed it, being a cautious sort of cat.There was a lion in the hall for about four seconds. The cat applauded from the top of a cupboard and said it was very fine, but that any large thing can be a large thing, and the real trick would be something small. A mouse would be beyond anybody. The giant said the word "beyond" twice, in a rising voice, and then became a mouse.The cat stepped down, walked past him, and held the great door open. The mouse looked at the door, and at the cat, and went out through it into the long grass and kept going. Nobody chased him. Nobody ever saw him again. The cat shut the door, straightened his hat in the window glass, and told the cook there would be eight for supper.When the carriage came up the drive the cat was on the steps under the banners, bowing so low his plume touched the stone. There was a feast in the courtyard that evening and the king laughed until he had to put his cup down. His master got the castle, and never once had to explain himself. And the cat sat in the warm light with one boot off, half asleep, entirely satisfied.
The end.
Read any of the 12 tonight, free
12 classic fairy tales, ten painted pages each, one story an evening. No sign-up before you can read.
Yes. All ten pages of Puss in Boots are on this page, each with the illustration that belongs to it. Nothing is held back for the app.
Is it suitable for a three year old?
It is written for children between three and eight. Cheerful from beginning to end. The cat bluffs; nobody is hurt.
How long does it take to read aloud?
About five minutes at an unhurried pace, which is roughly one page every thirty seconds.
Where do the pictures come from?
They were painted for Pillowbook, one plate per page, in a single visual voice shared across all 12 tales. They are not stock illustrations.
Can I read the other tales here?
Yes. All 12 are on this site in full, free and without an account. The app is for reading them at bedtime — offline, no advertising, one page to a screen — and for the tale it writes about your own child.
