The Tale of the Cat, the Rooster, and the Sickle

Once upon a time, a poor miller died, leaving his three sons only a cat, a rooster, and a sickle as their inheritance. "What about the mill and the donkey?" you might ask. The mill belonged to the village owner, and the donkey had died a week before the miller's passing.

"What are we to do?" the brothers wondered as they returned from the cemetery.

"What to do? What to do?" they repeated gloomily.

"We're out of luck," said the eldest brother. "Let's divide our father's inheritance—meager as it is—and go out into the world to seek our fortune. If you agree, let's meet back here in exactly one year and one day."

"Very well," replied the younger brothers. "You're the eldest, so you divide the inheritance."

"Alright. Here we are at home. Jean, take the rooster. Jacques, take the sickle. I'll keep the cat, Mine."

Jean called the rooster, Jacques took the sickle, and Pierre, the miller's eldest son, called the cat, and they set off on their journey.

The three brothers reached a crossroads, embraced, and parted ways.

Each went his own path: Pierre with his cat, Jean with the rooster, and Jacques with the sickle.

Pierre walked and walked until he finally arrived at a royal castle. At that very moment, two thousand royal servants, armed with huge sticks, were battling mice that had devastated the kingdom. It turned out that the kingdom had been at war with the mice for half a year, and so far, they had only managed to kill four. Pierre watched in amazement when suddenly a fat mouse darted out of the palace cellar and ran straight toward him, pursued by at least fifty hunters. Pierre couldn't help but laugh as he watched them trying to kill the mouse, which seemed to deliberately dart under the feet of its furious pursuers, taunting them. The mouse hunters swung their sticks wildly, trying to hit the creature, while Pierre laughed louder and louder. The servants grew angry. One of them said to Pierre:

"If you were in our place, you wouldn't be laughing, stranger."

"Why do you think so?"

"Why? Can't you see how hard it is for us to catch these creatures, may God punish them!"

"I can catch that mouse with ease. Watch."

With that, Pierre released his cat, Mine, from the bag. The cat leaped, caught the mouse, and brought it to his master.

"Oh heavens! What is this marvelous creature?" the royal servants exclaimed in unison, still recovering from their astonishment.

"This creature is called a cat, and it can easily rid your kingdom of all the mice."

"A cat? Does it eat people?"

"No, but it has a great appetite for rats and mice."

"If that's the case, come with us to the king. He will be very interested in seeing your... what did you call it? A cat."

"...Your cat, and he will pay you a great deal of money for it. Just remember—the king is very wealthy, so ask for a high price."

Pierre followed the servants to the palace, and they brought him before the king.

"I've been told that the creature you hold in your hands can kill any mouse in an instant and that it can be released without fear for the lives of my subjects. Is this true?"

"It is true, and if you wish, I can prove it to you now."

Half a dozen mice were scurrying back and forth across the room. Pierre released the cat, whose appetite was whetted by the first mouse, and Mine, delighted by the abundance of prey, began leaping from one mouse to another until he had dealt with them all.

The king was astounded.

"How much do you want for it?"

"My cat is not for sale. There is no other creature like it in the world, and I cannot part with it."

"But I like it so much that I am willing to give half my kingdom for it!"

"I cannot. But here's what I propose: give me your daughter in marriage, and all will be well—I won't have to part with Mine, and he will belong to you."

The king gladly agreed to this condition, and Pierre married the king's daughter that same day.

Jean, the miller's second son, also arrived at a royal castle, but in a different kingdom. He asked for shelter there, and in the evening, he was greatly surprised to see a huge carriage drawn by large black horses emerge from the castle and rush off toward the east. Jean asked one of the palace servants:

"Where is that carriage going?"

"Where is it going? What a question! Of course, it's going to fetch the day, which otherwise won't return. Or is it eternal night in your land?"

"No, of course not! Thank you for explaining."

And Jean waited for the next day. He woke up when the palace clock struck six, and since it was summer, he found it strange that it was still completely dark. The clock struck seven, then eight, and still, the night persisted. Finally, at nine o'clock, the loud clatter of wheels was heard in the distance: the carriage that had left the previous evening had returned, bringing the day.

"Well, well! Don't they have roosters in this land? Let's see what happens tomorrow."

Jean said nothing to the servants about his plan, but when night fell again, he released his rooster in his room and waited.

Around three in the morning, the rooster woke up, flapped its wings, and let out a deafening "cock-a-doodle-doo," not once, but several times.

Immediately, dawn began to break. What a commotion erupted in the castle! At first, they thought the carriage had returned earlier than usual, but they quickly realized their mistake. They questioned the servants, and one of them mentioned hearing a bird in the stranger's room crow "cock-a-doodle-doo" just before daybreak. The king ordered Jean to be brought before him and asked:

"So, it was you who summoned the day?"

"Yes, it was me—or rather, the bird I hold in my hands."

"What is it called?"

"A rooster. When it crows 'cock-a-doodle-doo,' the day rushes to its call."

"Where do these marvelous birds come from?"

"There is no other like it in the world. My godmother, a fairy, gave it to me."

"Sell me the rooster, and I will give you anything you want, even half my kingdom."

"My rooster is not for sale, neither for silver nor gold, and I will never part with it. But if you like it so much, here's what we can do: give me your daughter, the princess, in marriage, and I will let you have the rooster. It will bring you the day every morning, and I won't have to part with it."

"Agreed, agreed!" the king exclaimed joyfully, delighted with such a favorable deal.

And that same day, Jean married the king's daughter. Meanwhile, Jacques, who felt he had been shortchanged, had often considered throwing away the sickle. Fortunately for him, he didn't and continued down the road he had taken after parting with his brothers.

Like Pierre and Jean, he arrived in an unfamiliar kingdom, at the palace of the ruling king. The palace was surrounded on all sides by wheat fields, and thousands of reapers were harvesting the crops with sticks. In the process, most of the grain was lost, and the people were exhausted from the labor.

Jacques watched in disbelief, unable to believe his eyes. Then he approached the peasants, showed them his sickle, and with a single swing, cut down a whole bundle of stalks.

"What is this thing you have?" the reapers cried. "Let's go tell the king."

They went to the king and told him what the stranger had done. The king wanted to see the miracle for himself and, along with his servants, went to the field to speak with the miller's son.

At the king's request, Jacques cut down several bundles of stalks with his sickle...

"Sell me your sickle," the king asked.

"My sickle is not for sale. But I will give it to you on one condition."

"What condition?"

"Give me your daughter in marriage."

"Agreed, agreed!"

And that very evening, Jacques married the king's daughter, the princess.

Exactly one year and one day later, the three brothers—Pierre, Jean, and Jacques—returned to the mill, embraced each other, and shared how they now lived in wealth, honor, and happiness, all thanks to the cat, the rooster, and the sickle—the inheritance of the poor miller!

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The Tale of the Cat, the Rooster, and the Sickle

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