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 Rh wariness saves him from the utter ruin of nobler and duller beasts.

In the fable, as in folk-lore, it is always astute rascality which wins a final triumph. Honesty is never the best policy, and the Master Thief still shines, a dazzling hero, despite our centuries of ethics. Not for his integrity do we value Puss-in-Boots, that hardy and brilliant impostor, who lifted the miller's son on the crest of his splendid lies until he landed the stupid lout, who could n't lie for himself, at the foot of a throne, with a princess for a bride. "Puss-in-Boots" was translated from Italian into French in 1585, and from French into English a few years later; but the story itself is very, very old. Like so many fairy tales, it may be traced to India, where the cat's part was originally played by a fox,—a fox as unscrupulous as Reineke, but more faithful, through whose cunning and devotion a peasant lad becomes the son-in-law of a king. The surpassing cynicism of the Eastern tale lies in the ingratitude of the peasant, who, having reached the summit of his ambition, has no further need of his colleague, and drives him shamefully from the palace doors. One is glad that this touch of unutterable baseness has never contaminated our nurseries; and that all children who rejoice—as good children should—in the triumphant scampishness of Puss-in-Boots, are told in