Once upon a time . . . a miller died leaving the mill to his eldest son, his donkey to his second son and . . . a cat to his youngest son. "Now that"s some difference!" you might say; but there you are, that"s how the miller was! The eldest son kept the mill, the second son took the donkey and set off in search of his fortune . . . while the third sat down on a stone and sighed, "A cat! What am I going to do with that?"

　　But the cat heard his words and said, "Don"t worry, Master. What do you think? That I"m worth less than a half-ruined mill or a mangy donkey? Give me a cloak, a hat with a feather in it, a bag and a pair of boots, and you will see what I can do."

　　The young man, by no means surprised, for it was quite mon for cats to talk in those days, gave the cat what he asked for, and as he strode away, confident and cheerful. the cat said. "Don"t look so glum, Master. See you soon!"

　　Swift of foot as he was, the cat caught a fat wild rabbit, popped it into his bag, knocked at the castle gate, went before the King and, removing his hat, with a sweeping bow, he said: "Sire, the famous Marquis of Carabas sends you this fine plump rabbit as a gift."

<<<12345>>>
本文来自：逍遥右脑记忆 http://www.jiyifa.net/youer/345961.html

相关阅读：