THEADVENTURESOFPINOCCHIO
byC.Collodi[PseudonymofCarloLorenzini]
TranslatedfromtheItalianbyCarolDellaChiesa
CONTENTS
CHAPTER1
CHAPTER2
CHAPTER3
CHAPTER4
CHAPTER5
CHAPTER6
CHAPTER7
CHAPTER8
CHAPTER9
CHAPTER10
CHAPTER11
CHAPTER12
CHAPTER13
CHAPTER14
CHAPTER15
CHAPTER16
CHAPTER17
CHAPTER18
CHAPTER19
CHAPTER20
CHAPTER21
CHAPTER22
CHAPTER23
CHAPTER24
CHAPTER25
CHAPTER26
CHAPTER27
CHAPTER28
CHAPTER29
CHAPTER30
CHAPTER31
CHAPTER32
CHAPTER33
CHAPTER34
CHAPTER35
CHAPTER36
CHAPTER1
How it happened thatMastroCherry, carpenter, found a pieceofwood thatweptandlaughedlikeachild.Centuriesagotherelived—“Aking!”mylittlereaderswillsayimmediately.No,children,youaremistaken.Onceuponatimetherewasapieceofwood.
It was not an expensive piece ofwood. Far from it. Just a common block offirewood,oneofthosethick,solidlogsthatareputonthefireinwintertomakecoldroomscozyandwarm.Idonotknowhowthisreallyhappened,yetthefactremainsthatonefineday
thispieceofwoodfounditselfintheshopofanoldcarpenter.HisrealnamewasMastroAntonio,buteveryonecalledhimMastroCherry,forthetipofhisnosewassoroundandredandshinythatitlookedlikearipecherry.As soon as he saw that piece of wood,Mastro Cherrywas filledwith joy.
Rubbinghishandstogetherhappily,hemumbledhalftohimself:“Thishascomeinthenickoftime.Ishalluseittomakethelegofatable.”Hegraspedthehatchetquicklytopeeloffthebarkandshapethewood.Butas
hewasabouttogiveitthefirstblow,hestoodstillwitharmuplifted,forhehadheardawee,littlevoicesayinabeseechingtone:“Pleasebecareful!Donothitmesohard!”What a look of surprise shone on Mastro Cherry’s face! His funny face
becamestillfunnier.He turned frightened eyes about the room to find outwhere thatwee, little
voicehadcomefromandhesawnoone!Helookedunderthebench—noone!Hepeepedinsidethecloset—noone!Hesearchedamongtheshavings—noone!Heopenedthedoortolookupanddownthestreet—andstillnoone!“Oh,Isee!”he thensaid, laughingandscratchinghisWig.“Itcaneasilybe
seen that I only thought I heard the tiny voice say thewords!Well, well—toworkoncemore.”Hestruckamostsolemnblowuponthepieceofwood.“Oh,oh!Youhurt!”criedthesamefar-awaylittlevoice.MastroCherrygrewdumb,hiseyespoppedoutofhishead,hismouthopened
wide,andhistonguehungdownonhischin.Assoonasheregainedtheuseofhissenses,hesaid,tremblingandstuttering
fromfright:“Wheredidthatvoicecomefrom,whenthereisnoonearound?Mightitbe
that thispieceofwoodhas learned toweepandcry likea child? I canhardlybelieve it.Here it is—a piece of common firewood, good only to burn in thestove, the same as any other.Yet—might someone be hidden in it? If so, theworseforhim.I’llfixhim!”Withthesewords,hegrabbedthelogwithbothhandsandstartedtoknockit
aboutunmercifully.Hethrewit tothefloor,against thewallsof theroom,andevenuptotheceiling.He listened for the tiny voice to moan and cry. He waited two minutes—
nothing;fiveminutes—nothing;tenminutes—nothing.“Oh,Isee,”hesaid,tryingbravelytolaughandrufflinguphiswigwithhis
hand.“ItcaneasilybeseenIonlyimaginedIheardthetinyvoice!Well,well—toworkoncemore!”Thepoor fellowwas scaredhalf to death, sohe tried to sing a gay song in
ordertogaincourage.Hesetasidethehatchetandpickeduptheplanetomakethewoodsmoothand
even, but as he drew it to and fro, he heard the same tiny voice. This time itgiggledasitspoke:“Stopit!Oh,stopit!Ha,ha,ha!Youticklemystomach.”This time poorMastroCherry fell as if shot.When he opened his eyes, he
foundhimselfsittingonthefloor.Hisfacehadchanged;frighthadturnedeventhe tipofhisnosefromredto
deepestpurple.
CHAPTER2
MastroCherrygivesthepieceofwoodtohisfriendGeppetto,whotakesittomakehimselfaMarionettethatwilldance,fence,andturnsomersaults.In thatvery instant, a loudknocksoundedon thedoor. “Come in,” said the
carpenter,nothavinganatomofstrengthleftwithwhichtostandup.Atthewords,thedooropenedandadapperlittleoldmancamein.Hisname
was Geppetto, but to the boys of the neighborhood he was Polendina,* onaccountofthewighealwaysworewhichwasjustthecolorofyellowcorn.
* Cornmealmush
Geppettohadaverybad temper.Woeto theonewhocalledhimPolendina!Hebecameaswildasabeastandnoonecouldsoothehim.“Good day, Mastro Antonio,” said Geppetto. “What are you doing on the
floor?”“IamteachingtheantstheirABC’s.”“Goodlucktoyou!”“Whatbroughtyouhere,friendGeppetto?”“Mylegs.Anditmayflatteryoutoknow,MastroAntonio,thatIhavecome
toyoutobegforafavor.”“HereIam,atyourservice,”answeredthecarpenter,raisinghimselfontohis
knees.“Thismorningafineideacametome.”“Let’shearit.”“I thought of making myself a beautiful wooden Marionette. It must be
wonderful,onethatwillbeabletodance,fence,andturnsomersaults.WithitIintendtogoaroundtheworld,toearnmycrustofbreadandcupofwine.Whatdoyouthinkofit?”“Bravo,Polendina!”criedthesametinyvoicewhichcamefromnooneknew
where.Onhearinghimself calledPolendina,MastroGeppetto turned thecolorof a
redpepperand,facingthecarpenter,saidtohimangrily:“Whydoyouinsultme?”“Whoisinsultingyou?”
“YoucalledmePolendina.”“Ididnot.”“IsupposeyouthinkIdid!YetIKNOWitwasyou.”“No!”“Yes!”“No!”“Yes!”And growing angrier each moment, they went from words to blows, and
finallybegantoscratchandbiteandslapeachother.When the fightwasover,MastroAntoniohadGeppetto’syellowwig inhis
handsandGeppettofoundthecarpenter’scurlywiginhismouth.“Givemebackmywig!”shoutedMastroAntonioinasurlyvoice.“Youreturnmineandwe’llbefriends.”Thetwolittleoldmen,eachwithhisownwigbackonhisownhead,shook
handsandsworetobegoodfriendsfortherestoftheirlives.“Wellthen,MastroGeppetto,”saidthecarpenter,toshowheborehimnoill
will,“whatisityouwant?”“IwantapieceofwoodtomakeaMarionette.Willyougiveittome?”MastroAntonio,veryglad indeed,went immediately tohisbench toget the
pieceofwoodwhichhadfrightenedhimsomuch.Butashewasabouttogiveittohisfriend,withaviolentjerkitslippedoutofhishandsandhitagainstpoorGeppetto’sthinlegs.“Ah!Is this thegentleway,MastroAntonio, inwhichyoumakeyourgifts?
Youhavemademealmostlame!”“IsweartoyouIdidnotdoit!”“ItwasI,ofcourse!”“It’sthefaultofthispieceofwood.”“You’reright;butrememberyouweretheonetothrowitatmylegs.”“Ididnotthrowit!”“Liar!”“Geppetto,donotinsultmeorIshallcallyouPolendina.”“Idiot.”“Polendina!”
“Donkey!”“Polendina!”“Uglymonkey!”“Polendina!”OnhearinghimselfcalledPolendinaforthethirdtime,Geppettolosthishead
withrageandthrewhimselfuponthecarpenter.Thenandtheretheygaveeachotherasoundthrashing.After this fight, Mastro Antonio had two more scratches on his nose, and
Geppetto had two buttons missing from his coat. Thus having settled theiraccounts, they shook hands and swore to be good friends for the rest of theirlives.Then Geppetto took the fine piece of wood, thankedMastro Antonio, and
limpedawaytowardhome.
CHAPTER3
As soon as he gets home, Geppetto fashions the Marionette and calls itPinocchio.ThefirstpranksoftheMarionette.Little asGeppetto’s housewas, itwas neat and comfortable. Itwas a small
roomonthegroundfloor,withatinywindowunderthestairway.Thefurniturecould not have beenmuch simpler: a very old chair, a rickety old bed, and atumble-down table. A fireplace full of burning logs was painted on the walloppositethedoor.Overthefire,therewaspaintedapotfullofsomethingwhichkeptboilinghappilyawayandsendingupcloudsofwhatlookedlikerealsteam.As soon as he reachedhome,Geppetto tookhis tools andbegan to cut and
shapethewoodintoaMarionette.“What shall I call him?” he said to himself. “I think I’ll call him
PINOCCHIO. This name will make his fortune. I knew a whole family ofPinocchi once—Pinocchio the father, Pinocchia the mother, and Pinocchi thechildren—andtheywerealllucky.Therichestofthembeggedforhisliving.”AfterchoosingthenameforhisMarionette,Geppettosetseriouslytoworkto
make thehair, the forehead, the eyes.Fancyhis surprisewhenhenoticed thatthese eyes moved and then stared fixedly at him. Geppetto, seeing this, feltinsultedandsaidinagrievedtone:“Uglywoodeneyes,whydoyoustareso?”Therewasnoanswer.After the eyes,Geppettomade the nose,which began to stretch as soon as
finished.Itstretchedandstretchedandstretchedtillitbecamesolong,itseemedendless.PoorGeppettokept cutting it andcutting it,but themorehecut, the longer
grewthatimpertinentnose.Indespairheletitalone.Nexthemadethemouth.Nosoonerwasitfinishedthanitbegantolaughandpokefunathim.“Stoplaughing!”saidGeppettoangrily;buthemightaswellhavespokento
thewall.“Stoplaughing,Isay!”heroaredinavoiceofthunder.Themouthstoppedlaughing,butitstuckoutalongtongue.
Notwishingtostartanargument,Geppettomadebelievehesawnothingandwentonwithhiswork.After themouth,hemade the chin, then theneck, theshoulders,thestomach,thearms,andthehands.Ashewasabout toput the last toucheson the finger tips,Geppetto felthis
wigbeingpulledoff.Heglancedupandwhatdidhesee?HisyellowwigwasintheMarionette’shand.“Pinocchio,givememywig!”But insteadof giving it back,Pinocchioput it onhis ownhead,whichwas
halfswallowedupinit.At that unexpected trick,Geppettobecamevery sad anddowncast,more so
thanhehadeverbeenbefore.“Pinocchio,youwickedboy!”hecriedout.“Youarenotyetfinished,andyou
startoutbybeingimpudenttoyourpooroldfather.Verybad,myson,verybad!”Andhewipedawayatear.Thelegsandfeetstillhadtobemade.Assoonastheyweredone,Geppetto
feltasharpkickonthetipofhisnose.“Ideserveit!”hesaidtohimself.“IshouldhavethoughtofthisbeforeImade
him.Nowit’stoolate!”He tookhold of theMarionette under the arms andput himon the floor to
teachhimtowalk.Pinocchio’slegsweresostiffthathecouldnotmovethem,andGeppettoheld
hishandandshowedhimhowtoputoutonefootaftertheother.When his legswere limbered up, Pinocchio startedwalking by himself and
ranallaroundtheroom.Hecametotheopendoor,andwithoneleaphewasoutintothestreet.Awayheflew!PoorGeppettoranafterhimbutwasunabletocatchhim,forPinocchioranin
leapsandbounds,histwowoodenfeet,astheybeatonthestonesofthestreet,makingasmuchnoiseastwentypeasantsinwoodenshoes.“Catchhim!Catchhim!”Geppettokeptshouting.Butthepeopleinthestreet,
seeing a woodenMarionette running like thewind, stood still to stare and tolaughuntiltheycried.At last, by sheer luck, aCarabineer* happened along,who, hearing all that
noise,thoughtthatitmightbearunawaycolt,andstoodbravelyinthemiddleofthe street, with legs wide apart, firmly resolved to stop it and prevent anytrouble.*Amilitarypoliceman
PinocchiosawtheCarabineerfromafarandtriedhisbesttoescapebetween
thelegsofthebigfellow,butwithoutsuccess.TheCarabineergrabbedhimby thenose (itwasanextremely longoneand
seemed made on purpose for that very thing) and returned him to MastroGeppetto.The littleoldmanwanted topullPinocchio’sears.Thinkhowhefeltwhen,
uponsearchingforthem,hediscoveredthathehadforgottentomakethem!AllhecoulddowastoseizePinocchiobythebackoftheneckandtakehim
home.As hewas doing so, he shook him two or three times and said to himangrily:“We’regoinghomenow.Whenwegethome,thenwe’llsettlethismatter!”Pinocchio,onhearing this, threwhimselfon thegroundand refused to take
anotherstep.Onepersonafteranothergatheredaroundthetwo.Somesaidonething,someanother.“PoorMarionette,”calledoutaman.“Iamnotsurprisedhedoesn’twant to
go home. Geppetto, no doubt, will beat him unmercifully, he is somean andcruel!”“Geppettolookslikeagoodman,”addedanother,“butwithboyshe’sareal
tyrant.IfweleavethatpoorMarionetteinhishandshemaytearhimtopieces!”They said so much that, finally, the Carabineer ended matters by setting
Pinocchio at liberty anddraggingGeppetto toprison.Thepoorold fellowdidnot know how to defend himself, but wept and wailed like a child and saidbetweenhissobs:“Ungrateful boy! To think I tried so hard to make you a well-behaved
Marionette!Ideserveit,however!Ishouldhavegiventhemattermorethought.”Whathappenedafterthisisanalmostunbelievablestory,butyoumayreadit,
dearchildren,inthechaptersthatfollow.
CHAPTER4
The story ofPinocchio and theTalkingCricket, inwhichone sees that badchildrendonotliketobecorrectedbythosewhoknowmorethantheydo.VerylittletimedidittaketogetpooroldGeppettotoprison.Inthemeantime
thatrascal,Pinocchio,freenowfromtheclutchesoftheCarabineer,wasrunningwildly across fields and meadows, taking one short cut after another towardhome.Inhiswildflight,heleapedoverbramblesandbushes,andacrossbrooksandponds,asifhewereagoatoraharechasedbyhounds.On reaching home, he found the house door half open.He slipped into the
room,lockedthedoor,andthrewhimselfonthefloor,happyathisescape.But his happiness lasted only a short time, for just then he heard someone
saying:“Cri-cri-cri!”“Whoiscallingme?”askedPinocchio,greatlyfrightened.“Iam!”Pinocchioturnedandsawalargecricketcrawlingslowlyupthewall.“Tellme,Cricket,whoareyou?”“IamtheTalkingCricketandIhavebeenlivinginthisroomformorethan
onehundredyears.”“Today,however,thisroomismine,”saidtheMarionette,“andifyouwishto
domeafavor,getoutnow,anddon’tturnaroundevenonce.”“I refuse to leave this spot,” answered theCricket, “until I have told you a
greattruth.”“Tellit,then,andhurry.”“Woetoboyswhorefusetoobeytheirparentsandrunawayfromhome!They
will never be happy in thisworld, andwhen they are older theywill be verysorryforit.”“Sing on, Cricket mine, as you please. What I know is, that tomorrow, at
dawn,Ileavethisplaceforever.IfIstayherethesamethingwillhappentomewhichhappenstoallotherboysandgirls.Theyaresenttoschool,andwhethertheywanttoornot,theymuststudy.Asforme,letmetellyou,Ihatetostudy!It’smuchmorefun,Ithink,tochaseafterbutterflies,climbtrees,andstealbirds’
nests.”“Poor littlesilly!Don’tyouknowthat ifyougoon like that,youwillgrow
intoaperfectdonkeyandthatyou’llbethelaughingstockofeveryone?”“Keepstill,youuglyCricket!”criedPinocchio.ButtheCricket,whowasawiseoldphilosopher,insteadofbeingoffendedat
Pinocchio’simpudence,continuedinthesametone:“Ifyoudonotlikegoingtoschool,whydon’tyouatleastlearnatrade,sothat
youcanearnanhonestliving?”“Shall I tell you something?” asked Pinocchio, who was beginning to lose
patience.“Ofallthetradesintheworld,thereisonlyonethatreallysuitsme.”“Andwhatcanthatbe?”“That of eating, drinking, sleeping, playing, and wandering around from
morningtillnight.”“Letmetellyou,foryourowngood,Pinocchio,”saidtheTalkingCricketin
hiscalmvoice,“thatthosewhofollowthattradealwaysendupinthehospitalorinprison.”“Careful,uglyCricket!Ifyoumakemeangry,you’llbesorry!”“PoorPinocchio,Iamsorryforyou.”“Why?”“BecauseyouareaMarionetteand,whatismuchworse,youhaveawooden
head.”Attheselastwords,Pinocchiojumpedupinafury,tookahammerfromthe
bench,andthrewitwithallhisstrengthattheTalkingCricket.Perhaps he did not think he would strike it. But, sad to relate, my dear
children,hedidhittheCricket,straightonitshead.Withalastweak“cri-cri-cri”thepoorCricketfellfromthewall,dead!
CHAPTER5
Pinocchio ishungryand looksforanegg tocookhimselfanomelet;but, tohissurprise,theomeletfliesoutofthewindow.If the Cricket’s death scared Pinocchio at all, it was only for a very few
moments.For,asnightcameon,aqueer,emptyfeelingatthepitofhisstomachremindedtheMarionettethathehadeatennothingasyet.A boy’s appetite grows very fast, and in a few moments the queer, empty
feelinghadbecomehunger,andthehungergrewbiggerandbigger,untilsoonhewasasravenousasabear.PoorPinocchio ran to the fireplacewhere thepotwasboiling and stretched
out his hand to take the cover off, but to his amazement the pot was onlypainted!Thinkhowhefelt!Hislongnosebecameatleasttwoincheslonger.He ran about the room, dug in all the boxes and drawers, and even looked
underthebedinsearchofapieceofbread,hardthoughitmightbe,oracookie,orperhapsabitoffish.Aboneleftbyadogwouldhavetastedgoodtohim!Buthefoundnothing.Andmeanwhilehishungergrewandgrew.TheonlyreliefpoorPinocchiohad
was to yawn; and he certainly did yawn, such a big yawn that his mouthstretchedouttothetipsofhisears.Soonhebecamedizzyandfaint.Heweptandwailed to himself: “The Talking Cricket was right. It was wrong of me todisobeyFatherandtorunawayfromhome.Ifhewereherenow,Iwouldn’tbesohungry!Oh,howhorribleitistobehungry!”Suddenly, he saw, among the sweepings in a corner, something round and
white that lookedverymuchlikeahen’segg. Ina jiffyhepounceduponit. Itwasanegg.TheMarionette’sjoyknewnobounds.Itisimpossibletodescribeit,youmust
pictureittoyourself.Certainthathewasdreaming,heturnedtheeggoverandoverinhishands,fondledit,kissedit,andtalkedtoit:“Andnow,howshallIcookyou?ShallImakeanomelet?No,itisbetterto
fryyouinapan!OrshallIdrinkyou?No,thebestwayistofryyouinthepan.Youwilltastebetter.”Nosoonersaidthandone.Heplacedalittlepanoverafootwarmerfullofhot
coals.Inthepan,insteadofoilorbutter,hepouredalittlewater.Assoonasthe
waterstartedtoboil—tac!—hebroketheeggshell.Butinplaceofthewhiteandtheyolkof theegg, a littleyellowChick, fluffyandgayand smiling, escapedfromit.BowingpolitelytoPinocchio,hesaidtohim:“Many,manythanks,indeed,Mr.Pinocchio,forhavingsavedmethetrouble
ofbreakingmyshell!Good-byandgood luck toyouandrememberme to thefamily!”Withthesewordshespreadouthiswingsand,dartingtotheopenwindow,he
flewawayintospacetillhewasoutofsight.ThepoorMarionettestoodasifturnedtostone,withwideeyes,openmouth,
andtheemptyhalvesoftheegg-shellinhishands.Whenhecametohimself,hebegantocryandshriekatthetopofhislungs,stampinghisfeetonthegroundandwailingallthewhile:“TheTalkingCricketwasright!IfIhadnotrunawayfromhomeandifFather
were here now, I should not be dying of hunger.Oh, how horrible it is to behungry!”And as his stomach kept grumblingmore than ever and he had nothing to
quiet itwith, he thoughtof goingout for awalk to thenear-byvillage, in thehopeoffindingsomecharitablepersonwhomightgivehimabitofbread.
CHAPTER6
Pinocchio fallsasleepwithhis feetona footwarmer,andawakens thenextdaywithhisfeetallburnedoff.Pinocchiohatedthedarkstreet,buthewassohungrythat,inspiteofit,heran
outofthehouse.Thenightwaspitchblack.It thundered,andbrightflashesoflightning now and again shot across the sky, turning it into a sea of fire. Anangrywindblewcoldandraiseddensecloudsofdust,whilethetreesshookandmoanedinaweirdway.Pinocchiowasgreatlyafraidof thunderandlightning,but thehungerhefelt
wasfargreaterthanhisfear.Inadozenleapsandbounds,hecametothevillage,tiredout,puffinglikeawhale,andwithtonguehanging.Thewholevillagewasdarkanddeserted.Thestoreswereclosed, thedoors,
thewindows.Inthestreets,notevenadogcouldbeseen.ItseemedtheVillageoftheDead.Pinocchio, indesperation, ranup toadoorway, threwhimselfuponthebell,
andpulleditwildly,sayingtohimself:“Someonewillsurelyanswerthat!”Hewasright.Anoldmaninanightcapopenedthewindowandlookedout.
Hecalleddownangrily:“Whatdoyouwantatthishourofnight?”“Willyoubegoodenoughtogivemeabitofbread?Iamhungry.”“WaitaminuteandI’llcomerightback,”answeredtheoldfellow,thinkinghe
had to dealwith one of those boyswho love to roam around at night ringingpeople’sbellswhiletheyarepeacefullyasleep.Afteraminuteortwo,thesamevoicecried:“Getunderthewindowandholdoutyourhat!”Pinocchiohadnohat,buthemanagedtogetunderthewindowjustintimeto
feel a shower of ice-cold water pour down on his poor wooden head, hisshoulders,andoverhiswholebody.Hereturnedhomeaswetasarag,andtiredoutfromwearinessandhunger.Ashenolongerhadanystrengthleftwithwhichtostand,hesatdownona
littlestoolandputhistwofeetonthestovetodrythem.There he fell asleep, and while he slept, his wooden feet began to burn.
Slowly,veryslowly,theyblackenedandturnedtoashes.Pinocchio snoredawayhappily as if his feetwerenothisown.Atdawnhe
openedhiseyesjustasaloudknockingsoundedatthedoor.“Whoisit?”hecalled,yawningandrubbinghiseyes.“ItisI,”answeredavoice.ItwasthevoiceofGeppetto.
CHAPTER7
GeppettoreturnshomeandgiveshisownbreakfasttotheMarionette
ThepoorMarionette,whowasstillhalfasleep,hadnotyetfoundoutthathistwo feet were burned and gone. As soon as he heard his Father’s voice, hejumpedupfromhisseattoopenthedoor,but,ashedidso,hestaggeredandfellheadlongtothefloor.In falling, hemade asmuch noise as a sack ofwood falling from the fifth
storyofahouse.“Openthedoorforme!”Geppettoshoutedfromthestreet.“Father,dearFather,Ican’t,”answeredtheMarionetteindespair,cryingand
rollingonthefloor.“Whycan’tyou?”“Becausesomeonehaseatenmyfeet.”“Andwhohaseatenthem?”“The cat,” answeredPinocchio, seeing that little animal busily playingwith
someshavingsinthecorneroftheroom.“Open!Isay,”repeatedGeppetto,“orI’llgiveyouasoundwhippingwhenI
getin.”“Father,believeme,Ican’tstandup.Oh,dear!Oh,dear!Ishallhavetowalk
onmykneesallmylife.”Geppetto,thinkingthatallthesetearsandcrieswereonlyotherpranksofthe
Marionette,climbedupthesideofthehouseandwentinthroughthewindow.Atfirsthewasveryangry,butonseeingPinocchiostretchedoutonthefloor
andreallywithoutfeet,hefeltverysadandsorrowful.Pickinghimupfromthefloor,hefondledandcaressedhim,talkingtohimwhilethetearsrandownhischeeks:“MylittlePinocchio,mydearlittlePinocchio!Howdidyouburnyourfeet?”“Idon’tknow,Father,butbelieveme,thenighthasbeenaterribleoneandI
shallrememberitaslongasIlive.Thethunderwassonoisyandthelightningsobright—andIwashungry.AndthentheTalkingCricketsaidtome,‘Youdeserve
it;youwerebad;’andIsaidtohim,‘Careful,Cricket;’andhesaidtome,‘YouareaMarionetteandyouhaveawoodenhead;’andIthrewthehammerathimandkilledhim.Itwashisownfault,forIdidn’twanttokillhim.AndIputthepan on the coals, but the Chick flew away and said, ‘I’ll see you again!Remembermetothefamily.’Andmyhungergrew,andIwentout,andtheoldmanwith a nightcap lookedout of thewindowand threwwater onme, and IcamehomeandputmyfeetonthestovetodrythembecauseIwasstillhungry,and I fell asleep andnowmy feet are gonebutmyhunger isn’t!Oh!—Oh!—Oh!”AndpoorPinocchiobegan to screamandcry so loudly thathe couldbeheardformilesaround.Geppetto,whohadunderstoodnothingofallthatjumbledtalk,exceptthatthe
Marionette was hungry, felt sorry for him, and pulling three pears out of hispocket,offeredthemtohim,saying:“Thesethreepearswereformybreakfast,butIgivethemtoyougladly.Eat
themandstopweeping.”“Ifyouwantmetoeatthem,pleasepeelthemforme.”“Peel them?” asked Geppetto, very much surprised. “I should never have
thought,dearboyofmine, thatyouweresodaintyandfussyaboutyourfood.Bad,verybad!In thisworld,evenaschildren,wemustaccustomourselves toeatofeverything,forweneverknowwhatlifemayholdinstoreforus!”“Youmayberight,”answeredPinocchio,“butIwillnoteatthepearsifthey
arenotpeeled.Idon’tlikethem.”AndgoodoldGeppetto tookoutaknife,peeled the threepears,andput the
skinsinarowonthetable.Pinocchioateonepearinatwinklingandstartedtothrowthecoreaway,but
Geppettoheldhisarm.“Oh,no,don’tthrowitaway!Everythinginthisworldmaybeofsomeuse!”“ButthecoreIwillnoteat!”criedPinocchioinanangrytone.“Whoknows?”repeatedGeppettocalmly.Andlaterthethreecoreswereplacedonthetablenexttotheskins.Pinocchiohadeatenthethreepears,orratherdevouredthem.Thenheyawned
deeply,andwailed:“I’mstillhungry.”“ButIhavenomoretogiveyou.”“Really,nothing—nothing?”
“Ihaveonlythesethreecoresandtheseskins.”“Verywell,then,”saidPinocchio,“ifthereisnothingelseI’lleatthem.”At first hemade awry face, but, one after another, the skins and the cores
disappeared.“Ah!NowIfeelfine!”hesaidaftereatingthelastone.“Yousee,”observedGeppetto,“thatIwasrightwhenItoldyouthatonemust
notbe toofussyandtoodaintyaboutfood.Mydear,weneverknowwhat lifemayhaveinstoreforus!”
CHAPTER8
GeppettomakesPinocchioanewpairoffeet,andsellshiscoattobuyhimanA-B-Cbook.TheMarionette,assoonashishungerwasappeased,startedtogrumbleand
crythathewantedanewpairoffeet.ButMastroGeppetto, inorder topunishhimforhismischief, lethimalone
thewholemorning.Afterdinnerhesaidtohim:“WhyshouldImakeyourfeetoveragain?Toseeyourunawayfromhome
oncemore?”“Ipromiseyou,”answeredtheMarionette,sobbing,“thatfromnowonI’llbe
good—”“Boysalwayspromisethatwhentheywantsomething,”saidGeppetto.“Ipromisetogotoschooleveryday,tostudy,andtosucceed—”“Boysalwayssingthatsongwhentheywanttheirownwill.”“ButIamnotlikeotherboys!IambetterthanallofthemandIalwaystellthe
truth. Ipromiseyou,Father, that I’ll learna trade, and I’llbe thecomfort andstaffofyouroldage.”Geppetto,thoughtryingtolookverystern,felthiseyesfillwithtearsandhis
heartsoftenwhenhesawPinocchiosounhappy.Hesaidnomore,buttakinghistoolsandtwopiecesofwood,hesettoworkdiligently.In less than an hour the feet were finished, two slender, nimble little feet,
strongandquick,modeledasifbyanartist’shands.“Closeyoureyesandsleep!”GeppettothensaidtotheMarionette.Pinocchioclosedhiseyesandpretendedtobeasleep,whileGeppettostuckon
thetwofeetwithabitofgluemeltedinaneggshell,doinghisworksowellthatthejointcouldhardlybeseen.AssoonastheMarionettefelthisnewfeet,hegaveoneleapfromthetable
andstartedtoskipandjumparound,asifhehadlosthisheadfromveryjoy.“ToshowyouhowgratefulIamtoyou,Father,I’llgotoschoolnow.Butto
gotoschoolIneedasuitofclothes.”Geppettodidnothaveapennyinhispocket,sohemadehissonalittlesuitof
floweredpaper,apairofshoesfromthebarkofatree,andatinycapfromabit
ofdough.Pinocchiorantolookathimselfinabowlofwater,andhefeltsohappythat
hesaidproudly:“NowIlooklikeagentleman.”“Truly,”answeredGeppetto.“Butrememberthatfineclothesdonotmakethe
manunlesstheybeneatandclean.”“Very true,” answeredPinocchio, “but, in order to go to school, I still need
somethingveryimportant.”“Whatisit?”“AnA-B-Cbook.”“Tobesure!Buthowshallwegetit?”“That’seasy.We’llgotoabookstoreandbuyit.”“Andthemoney?”“Ihavenone.”“NeitherhaveI,”saidtheoldmansadly.Pinocchio,althoughahappyboyalways,becamesadanddowncastat these
words.When poverty shows itself, evenmischievous boys understandwhat itmeans.“Whatdoesitmatter,afterall?”criedGeppettoallatonce,ashejumpedup
fromhischair.Puttingonhisoldcoat,fullofdarnsandpatches,heranoutofthehousewithoutanotherword.Afterawhilehereturned.InhishandshehadtheA-B-Cbookforhisson,but
theoldcoatwasgone.Thepoorfellowwasinhisshirtsleevesandthedaywascold.“Where’syourcoat,Father?”“Ihavesoldit.”“Whydidyousellyourcoat?”“Itwastoowarm.”Pinocchio understood the answer in a twinkling, and, unable to restrain his
tears,hejumpedonhisfather’sneckandkissedhimoverandover.
CHAPTER9
PinocchiosellshisA-B-CbooktopayhiswayintotheMarionetteTheater.SeePinocchiohurryingofftoschoolwithhisnewA-B-Cbookunderhisarm!
Ashewalkedalong,hisbrainwasbusyplanninghundredsofwonderfulthings,buildinghundredsofcastlesintheair.Talkingtohimself,hesaid:“In school today, I’ll learn to read, tomorrow to write, and the day after
tomorrowI’lldoarithmetic.Then,cleverasIam,Icanearnalotofmoney.WiththeveryfirstpenniesImake,I’llbuyFatheranewclothcoat.Cloth,didIsay?No,itshallbeofgoldandsilverwithdiamondbuttons.Thatpoormancertainlydeservesit;for,afterall,isn’theinhisshirtsleevesbecausehewasgoodenoughtobuyabook forme?On this coldday, too!Fathers are indeedgood to theirchildren!”As he talked to himself, he thought he heard sounds of pipes and drums
comingfromadistance:pi-pi-pi,pi-pi-pi...zum,zum,zum,zum.Hestoppedtolisten.Thosesoundscamefromalittlestreetthatledtoasmall
villagealongtheshore.“What can that noise be? What a nuisance that I have to go to school!
Otherwise...”Therehestopped,verymuchpuzzled.Hefelthehadtomakeuphismindfor
either one thing or another. Should he go to school, or should he follow thepipes?“TodayI’ll followthepipes,andtomorrowI’llgotoschool.There’salways
plenty of time to go to school,” decided the little rascal at last, shrugging hisshoulders.Nosoonersaidthandone.Hestarteddownthestreet,goinglikethewind.On
heran,andloudergrewthesoundsofpipeanddrum:pi-pi-pi,pi-pi-pi,pi-pi-pi...zum,zum,zum,zum.Suddenly,hefoundhimselfinalargesquare,fullofpeoplestandinginfront
ofalittlewoodenbuildingpaintedinbrilliantcolors.“Whatisthathouse?”Pinocchioaskedalittleboynearhim.“Readthesignandyou’llknow.”“I’dliketoread,butsomehowIcan’ttoday.”
“Oh,really?ThenI’llreadittoyou.Know,then,thatwritteninlettersoffireIseethewords:GREATMARIONETTETHEATER.“Whendidtheshowstart?”“Itisstartingnow.”“Andhowmuchdoesonepaytogetin?”“Fourpennies.”Pinocchio,whowaswildwith curiosity to knowwhatwasgoingon inside,
lostallhisprideandsaidtotheboyshamelessly:“Willyougivemefourpenniesuntiltomorrow?”“I’dgivethemtoyougladly,”answeredtheother,pokingfunathim,“butjust
nowIcan’tgivethemtoyou.”“Forthepriceoffourpennies,I’llsellyoumycoat.”“Ifitrains,whatshallIdowithacoatoffloweredpaper?Icouldnottakeit
offagain.”“Doyouwanttobuymyshoes?”“Theyareonlygoodenoughtolightafirewith.”“Whataboutmyhat?”“Finebargain,indeed!Acapofdough!Themicemightcomeandeatitfrom
myhead!”Pinocchiowasalmostintears.Hewasjustabouttomakeonelastoffer,buthe
lackedthecourage todoso.Hehesitated,hewondered,hecouldnotmakeuphismind.Atlasthesaid:“Willyougivemefourpenniesforthebook?”“IamaboyandIbuynothingfromboys,”saidthelittlefellowwithfarmore
commonsensethantheMarionette.“I’llgiveyoufourpenniesforyourA-B-Cbook,”saidaragpickerwhostood
by.Thenandthere,thebookchangedhands.AndtothinkthatpooroldGeppetto
satathomeinhisshirtsleeves,shiveringwithcold,havingsoldhiscoattobuythatlittlebookforhisson!
CHAPTER10
TheMarionettes recognize their brotherPinocchio, andgreet himwith loudcheers; but theDirector, FireEater, happens along and poor Pinocchio almostloseshislife.Quickasaflash,PinocchiodisappearedintotheMarionetteTheater.Andthen
somethinghappenedwhichalmostcausedariot.Thecurtainwasupandtheperformancehadstarted.HarlequinandPulcinellawererecitingon thestageand,asusual, theywere
threateningeachotherwithsticksandblows.The theaterwas fullofpeople, enjoying the spectacleand laughing till they
criedattheanticsofthetwoMarionettes.The play continued for a few minutes, and then suddenly, without any
warning,Harlequinstoppedtalking.Turningtowardtheaudience,hepointedtotherearoftheorchestra,yellingwildlyatthesametime:“Look,look!AmIasleeporawake?OrdoIreallyseePinocchiothere?”“Yes,yes!ItisPinocchio!”screamedPulcinella.“Itis!Itis!”shriekedSignoraRosaura,peekinginfromthesideofthestage.“ItisPinocchio!ItisPinocchio!”yelledalltheMarionettes,pouringoutofthe
wings.“ItisPinocchio.ItisourbrotherPinocchio!HurrahforPinocchio!”“Pinocchio,comeuptome!”shoutedHarlequin.“Cometothearmsofyour
woodenbrothers!”At such a loving invitation, Pinocchio, with one leap from the back of the
orchestra, found himself in the front rows.With another leap, he was on theorchestraleader’shead.Withathird,helandedonthestage.Itisimpossibletodescribetheshrieksofjoy,thewarmembraces,theknocks,
and the friendlygreetingswithwhich that strangecompanyofdramaticactorsandactressesreceivedPinocchio.It was a heart-rending spectacle, but the audience, seeing that the play had
stopped,becameangryandbegantoyell:“Theplay,theplay,wewanttheplay!”Theyellingwasofnouse,fortheMarionettes,insteadofgoingonwiththeir
act, made twice as much racket as before, and, lifting up Pinocchio on their
shoulders,carriedhimaroundthestageintriumph.Atthatverymoment,theDirectorcameoutofhisroom.Hehadsuchafearful
appearance that one look at himwould fill youwith horror.His beardwas asblackaspitch, and so long that it reached fromhis chindown tohis feet.Hismouthwas aswide as an oven, his teeth like yellow fangs, and his eyes, twoglowingredcoals.Inhishuge,hairyhands,alongwhip,madeofgreensnakesandblackcats’tailstwistedtogether,swishedthroughtheairinadangerousway.Attheunexpectedapparition,noonedaredeventobreathe.Onecouldalmost
hearaflygoby.ThosepoorMarionettes,oneandall,trembledlikeleavesinastorm.“Why have you brought such excitement intomy theater;” the huge fellow
askedPinocchiowiththevoiceofanogresufferingwithacold.“Believeme,yourHonor,thefaultwasnotmine.”“Enough!Bequiet!I’lltakecareofyoulater.”Assoonastheplaywasover, theDirectorwenttothekitchen,whereafine
big lamb was slowly turning on the spit. More wood was needed to finishcookingit.HecalledHarlequinandPulcinellaandsaidtothem:“BringthatMarionettetome!Helooksasifheweremadeofwell-seasoned
wood.He’llmakeafinefireforthisspit.”HarlequinandPulcinellahesitatedabit.Then,frightenedbyalookfromtheir
master, they left the kitchen to obey him. A fewminutes later they returned,carrying poor Pinocchio, who was wriggling and squirming like an eel andcryingpitifully:“Father,saveme!Idon’twanttodie!Idon’twanttodie!”
CHAPTER11
FireEater sneezes and forgivesPinocchio,who saves his friend,Harlequin,fromdeath.Inthetheater,greatexcitementreigned.FireEater(thiswasreallyhisname)wasveryugly,buthewasfarfrombeing
asbadashelooked.Proofofthisisthat,whenhesawthepoorMarionettebeingbroughtintohim,strugglingwithfearandcrying,“Idon’twanttodie!Idon’twanttodie!”hefeltsorryforhimandbeganfirsttowaverandthentoweaken.Finally,hecouldcontrolhimselfnolongerandgavealoudsneeze.At that sneeze, Harlequin, who until then had been as sad as a weeping
willow,smiledhappilyandleaningtowardtheMarionette,whisperedtohim:“Goodnews,brothermine!FireEaterhassneezedand this isasign thathe
feelssorryforyou.Youaresaved!”Forbeitknown,that,whileotherpeople,whensadandsorrowful,weepand
wipetheireyes,FireEater,ontheotherhand,hadthestrangehabitofsneezingeachtimehefeltunhappy.Thewaywasjustasgoodasanyother toshowthekindnessofhisheart.Aftersneezing,FireEater,uglyasever,criedtoPinocchio:“Stopcrying!Yourwailsgivemeafunnyfeelingdownhere inmystomach
and—E—tchee!—E—tchee!”Twoloudsneezesfinishedhisspeech.“Godblessyou!”saidPinocchio.“Thanks!Areyourfatherandmotherstillliving?”demandedFireEater.“Myfather,yes.MymotherIhaveneverknown.”“YourpoorfatherwouldsufferterriblyifIweretouseyouasfirewood.Poor
old man! I feel sorry for him! E—tchee! E—tchee! E—tchee!” Three moresneezessounded,louderthanever.“Godblessyou!”saidPinocchio.“Thanks!However, I ought to be sorry formyself, too, just now.My good
dinner is spoiled. I havenomorewood for the fire, and the lamb is onlyhalfcooked.Nevermind!InyourplaceI’llburnsomeotherMarionette.Heythere!Officers!”At the call, twowoodenofficers appeared, long and thin as a yard of rope,
withqueerhatsontheirheadsandswordsintheirhands.FireEateryelledattheminahoarsevoice:“TakeHarlequin, tie him, and throw him on the fire. Iwantmy lambwell
done!”Think how poorHarlequin felt!Hewas so scared that his legs doubled up
underhimandhefelltothefloor.Pinocchio,at thatheartbreakingsight, threwhimselfat thefeetofFireEater
and,weepingbitterly,askedinapitifulvoicewhichcouldscarcelybeheard:“Havepity,Ibegofyou,signore!”“Therearenosignorihere!”“Havepity,kindsir!”“Therearenosirshere!”“Havepity,yourExcellency!”On hearing himself addressed as your Excellency, the Director of the
MarionetteTheatersatupverystraightinhischair,strokedhislongbeard,andbecoming suddenly kind and compassionate, smiled proudly as he said toPinocchio:“Well,whatdoyouwantfrommenow,Marionette?”“Ibegformercyformypoorfriend,Harlequin,whohasneverdonetheleast
harminhislife.”“Thereisnomercyhere,Pinocchio.Ihavesparedyou.Harlequinmustburn
inyourplace.Iamhungryandmydinnermustbecooked.”“Inthatcase,”saidPinocchioproudly,ashestoodupandflungawayhiscap
ofdough,“inthatcase,mydutyisclear.Come,officers!Tiemeupandthrowmeon thoseflames.No, it isnot fair forpoorHarlequin, thebest friend that Ihaveintheworld,todieinmyplace!”Thesebravewords, said in apiercingvoice,made all theotherMarionettes
cry.Eventheofficers,whoweremadeofwoodalso,criedliketwobabies.FireEateratfirstremainedhardandcoldasapieceofice;butthen,littleby
little,hesoftenedandbegantosneeze.Andafterfourorfivesneezes,heopenedwidehisarmsandsaidtoPinocchio:“Youareabraveboy!Cometomyarmsandkissme!”Pinocchiorantohimandscurryinglikeasquirrelupthelongblackbeard,he
gaveFireEateralovingkissonthetipofhisnose.“Haspardonbeengrantedtome?”askedpoorHarlequinwithavoicethatwas
hardlyabreath.“Pardonisyours!”answeredFireEater;andsighingandwagginghishead,he
added:“Well,tonightIshallhavetoeatmylambonlyhalfcooked,butbewarethenexttime,Marionettes.”Atthenewsthatpardonhadbeengiven,theMarionettesrantothestageand,
turningonallthelights,theydancedandsangtilldawn.
CHAPTER12
FireEater givesPinocchio fivegoldpieces for his father,Geppetto; but theMarionettemeetsaFoxandaCatandfollowsthem.ThenextdayFireEatercalledPinocchioasideandaskedhim:“Whatisyourfather’sname?”“Geppetto.”“Andwhatishistrade?”“He’sawoodcarver.”“Doesheearnmuch?”“Heearnssomuchthatheneverhasapennyinhispockets.Justthinkthat,in
order to buy me an A-B-C book for school, he had to sell the only coat heowned,acoatsofullofdarnsandpatchesthatitwasapity.”“Poorfellow!Ifeelsorryforhim.Here,takethesefivegoldpieces.Go,give
themtohimwithmykindestregards.”Pinocchio, as may easily be imagined, thanked him a thousand times. He
kissedeachMarionette in turn,even theofficers,and,besidehimselfwith joy,setoutonhishomewardjourney.He had gone barely half amilewhen hemet a lame Fox and a blind Cat,
walkingtogetherliketwogoodfriends.ThelameFoxleanedontheCat,andtheblindCatlettheFoxleadhimalong.“Goodmorning,Pinocchio,”saidtheFox,greetinghimcourteously.“Howdoyouknowmyname?”askedtheMarionette.“Iknowyourfatherwell.”“Wherehaveyouseenhim?”“Isawhimyesterdaystandingatthedoorofhishouse.”“Andwhatwashedoing?”“Hewasinhisshirtsleevestremblingwithcold.”“PoorFather!But,aftertoday,Godwilling,hewillsuffernolonger.”“Why?”“BecauseIhavebecomearichman.”
“You,arichman?”saidtheFox,andhebegantolaughoutloud.TheCatwaslaughingalso,buttriedtohideitbystrokinghislongwhiskers.“There is nothing to laugh at,” criedPinocchio angrily. “I amvery sorry to
makeyourmouthwater,butthese,asyouknow,arefivenewgoldpieces.”AndhepulledoutthegoldpieceswhichFireEaterhadgivenhim.Atthecheerfultinkleofthegold,theFoxunconsciouslyheldouthispawthat
wassupposedtobelame,andtheCatopenedwidehistwoeyestilltheylookedlikelivecoals,butheclosedthemagainsoquicklythatPinocchiodidnotnotice.“Andmay I ask,” inquired theFox, “whatyouaregoing todowithall that
money?”“Firstofall,”answeredtheMarionette,“Iwanttobuyafinenewcoatformy
father,acoatofgoldandsilverwithdiamondbuttons;afterthat,I’llbuyanA-B-Cbookformyself.”“Foryourself?”“Formyself.Iwanttogotoschoolandstudyhard.”“Lookatme,”saidtheFox.“Forthesillyreasonofwantingtostudy,Ihave
lostapaw.”“Lookatme,”saidtheCat.“Forthesamefoolishreason,Ihavelostthesight
ofbotheyes.”Atthatmoment,aBlackbird,perchedonthefencealongtheroad,calledout
sharpandclear:“Pinocchio,donotlistentobadadvice.Ifyoudo,you’llbesorry!”Poor little Blackbird! If he had only kept his words to himself! In the
twinklingofaneyelid,theCatleapedonhim,andatehim,feathersandall.After eating the bird, he cleaned hiswhiskers, closed his eyes, and became
blindoncemore.“PoorBlackbird!”saidPinocchiototheCat.“Whydidyoukillhim?”“Ikilledhimtoteachhimalesson.Hetalkstoomuch.Nexttimehewillkeep
hiswordstohimself.”Bythistimethethreecompanionshadwalkedalongdistance.Suddenly,the
Foxstoppedinhistracksand,turningtotheMarionette,saidtohim:“Doyouwanttodoubleyourgoldpieces?”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Do youwant one hundred, a thousand, two thousand gold pieces for your
miserablefive?”
“Yes,buthow?”“Thewayisveryeasy.Insteadofreturninghome,comewithus.”“Andwherewillyoutakeme?”“TotheCityofSimpleSimons.”Pinocchiothoughtawhileandthensaidfirmly:“No,Idon’twanttogo.Homeisnear,andI’mgoingwhereFatheriswaiting
forme.HowunhappyhemustbethatIhavenotyetreturned!Ihavebeenabadson, and the Talking Cricket was right when he said that a disobedient boycannotbehappyinthisworld.Ihavelearnedthisatmyownexpense.Evenlastnight in the theater,whenFireEater. . .Brrrr!!!!! . . .The shivers runup anddownmybackatthemerethoughtofit.”“Well, then,” said the Fox, “if you really want to go home, go ahead, but
you’llbesorry.”“You’llbesorry,”repeatedtheCat.“Thinkwell,Pinocchio,youareturningyourbackonDameFortune.”“OnDameFortune,”repeatedtheCat.“Tomorrowyourfivegoldpieceswillbetwothousand!”“Twothousand!”repeatedtheCat.“Buthowcantheypossiblybecomesomany?”askedPinocchiowonderingly.“I’ll explain,” said the Fox. “Youmust know that, just outside the City of
SimpleSimons,thereisablessedfieldcalledtheFieldofWonders.Inthisfieldyoudigaholeandintheholeyouburyagoldpiece.Aftercoveringuptheholewithearthyouwateritwell,sprinkleabitofsaltonit,andgotobed.Duringthenight, the gold piece sprouts, grows, blossoms, and next morning you find abeautifultree,thatisloadedwithgoldpieces.”“SothatifIweretoburymyfivegoldpieces,”criedPinocchiowithgrowing
wonder,“nextmorningIshouldfind—howmany?”“Itisverysimpletofigureout,”answeredtheFox.“Why,youcanfigureiton
your fingers! Granted that each piece gives you five hundred, multiply fivehundredbyfive.Nextmorningyouwillfindtwenty-fivehundrednew,sparklinggoldpieces.”“Fine!Fine!”criedPinocchio,dancingaboutwithjoy.“AndassoonasIhave
them,IshallkeeptwothousandformyselfandtheotherfivehundredI’llgivetoyoutwo.”“Agiftforus?”criedtheFox,pretendingtobeinsulted.“Why,ofcoursenot!”
“Ofcoursenot!”repeatedtheCat.“We do not work for gain,” answered the Fox. “We work only to enrich
others.”“Toenrichothers!”repeatedtheCat.“Whatgoodpeople,”thoughtPinocchiotohimself.Andforgettinghisfather,
thenewcoat, theA-B-Cbook,andallhisgoodresolutions,hesaid to theFoxandtotheCat:“Letusgo.Iamwithyou.”
CHAPTER13
TheInnoftheRedLobster
CatandFoxandMarionettewalkedandwalkedandwalked.Atlast, towardevening,deadtired,theycametotheInnoftheRedLobster.“Letusstophereawhile,”saidtheFox,“toeatabiteandrestforafewhours.
Atmidnightwe’llstartoutagain,foratdawntomorrowwemustbeattheFieldofWonders.”TheywentintotheInnandallthreesatdownatthesametable.However,not
oneofthemwasveryhungry.ThepoorCat feltveryweak,andhewasable toeatonly thirty-fivemullets
withtomatosauceandfourportionsoftripewithcheese.Moreover,ashewassoinneedofstrength,hehadtohavefourmorehelpingsofbutterandcheese.TheFox,afteragreatdealofcoaxing,triedhisbesttoeatalittle.Thedoctor
hadputhimonadiet,andhehadtobesatisfiedwithasmallharedressedwithadozen young and tender spring chickens. After the hare, he ordered somepartridges,a fewpheasants,acoupleof rabbits,andadozenfrogsand lizards.Thatwasall.Hefeltill,hesaid,andcouldnoteatanotherbite.Pinocchioateleastofall.Heaskedforabiteofbreadandafewnutsandthen
hardly touchedthem.Thepoorfellow,withhismindon theFieldofWonders,wassufferingfromagold-pieceindigestion.Supperover,theFoxsaidtotheInnkeeper:“Giveustwogoodrooms,oneforMr.Pinocchioandtheotherformeandmy
friend. Before starting out, we’ll take a little nap. Remember to call us atmidnightsharp,forwemustcontinueonourjourney.”“Yes,sir,”answeredtheInnkeeper,winkinginaknowingwayattheFoxand
theCat,asiftosay,“Iunderstand.”AssoonasPinocchiowasinbed,hefellfastasleepandbegantodream.He
dreamedhewasinthemiddleofafield.Thefieldwasfullofvinesheavywithgrapes.Thegrapeswerenootherthangoldcoinswhichtinkledmerrilyastheyswayedinthewind.Theyseemedtosay,“Lethimwhowantsustakeus!”Just as Pinocchio stretched out his hand to take a handful of them, hewas
awakenedbythreeloudknocksatthedoor.ItwastheInnkeeperwhohadcome
totellhimthatmidnighthadstruck.“Aremyfriendsready?”theMarionetteaskedhim.“Indeed,yes!Theywenttwohoursago.”“Whyinsuchahurry?”“UnfortunatelytheCatreceivedatelegramwhichsaidthathisfirst-bornwas
sufferingfromchilblainsandwasonthepointofdeath.Hecouldnotevenwaittosaygood-bytoyou.”“Didtheypayforthesupper?”“Howcouldtheydosuchathing?Beingpeopleofgreatrefinement,theydid
notwant tooffendyou sodeeply asnot to allowyou thehonorofpaying thebill.”“Too bad! That offense would have been more than pleasing to me,” said
Pinocchio,scratchinghishead.“Wheredidmygoodfriendssaytheywouldwaitforme?”headded.“AttheFieldofWonders,atsunrisetomorrowmorning.”Pinocchio paid a gold piece for the three suppers and started on his way
towardthefieldthatwastomakehimarichman.Hewalkedon,notknowingwherehewasgoing,foritwasdark,sodarkthat
notathingwasvisible.Roundabouthim,notaleafstirred.Afewbatsskimmedhisnosenowandagainandscaredhimhalftodeath.Onceortwiceheshouted,“Whogoesthere?”andthefar-awayhillsechoedbacktohim,“Whogoesthere?Whogoesthere?Whogoes...?”Ashewalked,Pinocchionoticeda tiny insectglimmeringon the trunkof a
tree,asmallbeingthatglowedwithapale,softlight.“Whoareyou?”heasked.“I am theghost of theTalkingCricket,” answered the little being in a faint
voicethatsoundedasifitcamefromafar-awayworld.“Whatdoyouwant?”askedtheMarionette.“Iwant togiveyoua fewwordsofgoodadvice.Returnhomeandgive the
fourgoldpiecesyouhavelefttoyourpooroldfatherwhoisweepingbecausehehasnotseenyouformanyaday.”“Tomorrow my father will be a rich man, for these four gold pieces will
becometwothousand.”“Don’t listentothosewhopromiseyouwealthovernight,myboy.Asarule
theyareeitherfoolsorswindlers!Listentomeandgohome.”
“ButIwanttogoon!”“Thehourislate!”“Iwanttogoon.”“Thenightisverydark.”“Iwanttogoon.”“Theroadisdangerous.”“Iwanttogoon.”“Remember that boys who insist on having their own way, sooner or later
cometogrief.”“Thesamenonsense.Good-by,Cricket.”“Goodnight,Pinocchio,andmayHeavenpreserveyoufromtheAssassins.”There was silence for a minute and the light of the Talking Cricket
disappearedsuddenly,justasifsomeonehadsnuffeditout.Onceagaintheroadwasplungedindarkness.
CHAPTER14
Pinocchio,nothavinglistenedtothegoodadviceoftheTalkingCricket,fallsintothehandsoftheAssassins.“Dear,oh,dear!WhenIcometothinkofit,”saidtheMarionettetohimself,
as he once more set out on his journey, “we boys are really very unlucky.Everybody scolds us, everybody gives us advice, everybody warns us. If wewere to allow it, everyonewould try to be father andmother to us; everyone,eventheTalkingCricket.Takeme,forexample.JustbecauseIwouldnotlistentothatbothersomeCricket,whoknowshowmanymisfortunesmaybeawaitingme!Assassinsindeed!AtleastIhaveneverbelievedinthem,noreverwill.Tospeaksensibly, I thinkassassinshavebeen inventedby fathersandmothers tofrighten childrenwhowant to run away at night.And then, even if Iwere tomeet them on the road,whatmatter? I’ll just run up to them, and say, ‘Well,signori,whatdoyouwant?Remember thatyoucan’tfoolwithme!Runalongandmindyourbusiness.’Atsuchaspeech,Icanalmostseethosepoorfellowsrunninglikethewind.Butincasetheydon’trunaway,Icanalwaysrunmyself...”Pinocchiowasnotgiventimetoargueanylonger,forhethoughthehearda
slightrustleamongtheleavesbehindhim.He turned to look and behold, there in the darkness stood two big black
shadows, wrapped from head to foot in black sacks. The two figures leapedtowardhimassoftlyasiftheywereghosts.“Heretheycome!”Pinocchiosaidtohimself,and,notknowingwheretohide
thegoldpieces,hestuckallfourofthemunderhistongue.He tried to runaway,buthardlyhadhe takena step,whenhe felthis arms
graspedandheard twohorrible,deepvoicessay tohim:“Yourmoneyoryourlife!”Onaccountofthegoldpiecesinhismouth,Pinocchiocouldnotsayaword,
sohetriedwithheadandhandsandbodytoshow,asbesthecould,thathewasonlyapoorMarionettewithoutapennyinhispocket.“Come,come,lessnonsense,andoutwithyourmoney!”criedthetwothieves
inthreateningvoices.Oncemore,Pinocchio’sheadandhandssaid,“Ihaven’tapenny.”
“Out with that money or you’re a dead man,” said the taller of the twoAssassins.“Deadman,”repeatedtheother.“Andafterhavingkilledyou,wewillkillyourfatheralso.”“Yourfatheralso!”“No, no, no, not my Father!” cried Pinocchio, wild with terror; but as he
screamed,thegoldpiecestinkledtogetherinhismouth.“Ah,yourascal!Sothat’sthegame!Youhavethemoneyhiddenunderyour
tongue.Outwithit!”ButPinocchiowasasstubbornasever.“Areyoudeaf?Wait,youngman,we’llgetitfromyouinatwinkling!”OneofthemgrabbedtheMarionettebythenoseandtheotherbythechin,and
theypulledhimunmercifully fromside to side inorder tomakehimopenhismouth.All was of no use. TheMarionette’s lips might have been nailed together.
Theywouldnotopen.Indesperationthesmallerof the twoAssassinspulledouta longknifefrom
hispocket,andtriedtopryPinocchio’smouthopenwithit.Quickasaflash,theMarionettesankhisteethdeepintotheAssassin’shand,
bititoffandspatitout.Fancyhissurprisewhenhesawthatitwasnotahand,butacat’spaw.Encouraged by this first victory, he freed himself from the claws of his
assailers and, leaping over the bushes along the road, ran swiftly across thefields.Hispursuerswereafterhimatonce,liketwodogschasingahare.After runningsevenmilesorso,Pinocchiowaswell-nighexhausted.Seeing
himselflost,heclimbedupagiantpinetreeandsattheretoseewhathecouldsee.TheAssassinstriedtoclimbalso,buttheyslippedandfell.Far from giving up the chase, this only spurred them on. They gathered a
bundle of wood, piled it up at the foot of the pine, and set fire to it. In atwinkling the tree began to sputter andburn like a candle blownby thewind.Pinocchiosawtheflamesclimbhigherandhigher.Notwishingtoendhisdaysasa roastedMarionette,he jumpedquickly to thegroundandoffhewent, theAssassinsclosetohim,asbefore.Dawnwasbreakingwhen,withoutanywarningwhatsoever,Pinocchiofound
hispathbarredbyadeeppoolfullofwaterthecolorofmuddycoffee.
Whatwas there todo?Witha“One, two, three!”he jumpedclearacross it.The Assassins jumped also, but not having measured their distance well—splash!!!—theyfell right into themiddleof thepool.Pinocchiowhoheard thesplashandfeltit,too,criedout,laughing,butneverstoppinginhisrace:“Apleasantbathtoyou,signori!”Hethoughttheymustsurelybedrownedandturnedhisheadtosee.Butthere
werethetwosomberfiguresstillfollowinghim,thoughtheirblacksacksweredrenchedanddrippingwithwater.
CHAPTER15
TheAssassinschasePinocchio, catchhim,andhanghim to thebranchofagiantoaktree.Ashe ran, theMarionette feltmoreandmorecertain thathewouldhave to
givehimselfupintothehandsofhispursuers.Suddenlyhesawalittlecottagegleamingwhiteasthesnowamongthetreesoftheforest.“If Ihaveenoughbreath leftwithwhich to reach that littlehouse, Imaybe
saved,”hesaidtohimself.Not waiting another moment, he darted swiftly through the woods, the
Assassinsstillafterhim.Afterahardraceofalmostanhour,tiredandoutofbreath,Pinocchiofinally
reachedthedoorofthecottageandknocked.Nooneanswered.Heknockedagain,harderthanbefore,forbehindhimheheardthestepsand
thelaboredbreathingofhispersecutors.Thesamesilencefollowed.As knockingwas of no use, Pinocchio, in despair, began to kick and bang
againstthedoor,asifhewantedtobreakit.Atthenoise,awindowopenedandalovelymaidenlookedout.Shehadazurehairandafacewhiteaswax.Hereyeswereclosedandherhandscrossedonherbreast.Withavoice soweak that ithardlycouldbeheard,shewhispered:“Noonelivesinthishouse.Everyoneisdead.”“Won’tyou,atleast,openthedoorforme?”criedPinocchioinabeseeching
voice.“Ialsoamdead.”“Dead?Whatareyoudoingatthewindow,then?”“Iamwaitingforthecoffintotakemeaway.”Afterthesewords,thelittlegirldisappearedandthewindowclosedwithouta
sound.“Oh,LovelyMaidenwithAzureHair,”criedPinocchio,“open,Ibegofyou.
TakepityonapoorboywhoisbeingchasedbytwoAssass—”Hedidnot finish, for twopowerful handsgraspedhimby theneck and the
sametwohorriblevoicesgrowledthreateningly:“Nowwehaveyou!”TheMarionette, seeingdeathdancingbeforehim, trembled sohard that the
jointsofhislegsrattledandthecoinstinkledunderhistongue.“Well,”theAssassinsasked,“willyouopenyourmouthnowornot?Ah!You
donotanswer?Verywell,thistimeyoushallopenit.”Taking out two long, sharp knives, they struck two heavy blows on the
Marionette’sback.Happilyforhim,Pinocchiowasmadeofveryhardwoodandtheknivesbroke
into a thousandpieces.TheAssassins lookedat eachother indismay,holdingthehandlesoftheknivesintheirhands.“Iunderstand,”saidoneofthemtotheother,“thereisnothinglefttodonow
buttohanghim.”“Tohanghim,”repeatedtheother.They tied Pinocchio’s hands behind his shoulders and slipped the noose
aroundhisneck.Throwingtheropeoverthehighlimbofagiantoaktree,theypulledtillthepoorMarionettehungfarupinspace.Satisfiedwiththeirwork,theysatonthegrasswaitingforPinocchiotogive
his last gasp. But after three hours theMarionette’s eyes were still open, hismouthstillshutandhislegskickedharderthanever.Tired of waiting, the Assassins called to him mockingly: “Good-by till
tomorrow.Whenwereturninthemorning,wehopeyou’llbepoliteenoughtolet us find you dead and gone and with your mouth wide open.”With thesewordstheywent.Afewminuteswentbyandthenawildwindstarted toblow.Asitshrieked
andmoaned,thepoorlittlesuffererwasblowntoandfrolikethehammerofabell.Therockingmadehimseasickandthenoose,becomingtighterandtighter,chokedhim.Littlebylittleafilmcoveredhiseyes.Deathwascreepingnearerandnearer,andtheMarionettestillhopedforsome
goodsoultocometohisrescue,butnooneappeared.Ashewasabouttodie,hethought of his poor old father, and hardly conscious of what he was saying,murmuredtohimself:“Oh,Father,dearFather!Ifyouwereonlyhere!”Thesewerehislastwords.Heclosedhiseyes,openedhismouth,stretchedout
hislegs,andhungthere,asifheweredead.
CHAPTER16
TheLovelyMaidenwithAzureHairsendsforthepoorMarionette,putshimtobed,andcallsthreeDoctorstotellherifPinocchioisdeadoralive.If thepoorMarionettehaddangled theremuch longer, all hopewouldhave
been lost. Luckily for him, the Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair once againlookedoutofherwindow.Filledwithpityat thesightof thepoor littlefellowbeing knocked helplessly about by the wind, she clapped her hands sharplytogetherthreetimes.At the signal, a loud whirr of wings in quick flight was heard and a large
Falconcameandsettleditselfonthewindowledge.“Whatdoyoucommand,mycharmingFairy?”askedtheFalcon,bendinghis
beakindeepreverence(foritmustbeknownthat,afterall,theLovelyMaidenwithAzureHairwasnoneotherthanaverykindFairywhohadlived,formorethanathousandyears,inthevicinityoftheforest).“DoyouseethatMarionettehangingfromthelimbofthatgiantoaktree?”“Iseehim.”“Verywell. Fly immediately to him.With your strong beak, break the knot
whichholdshimtied,takehimdown,andlayhimsoftlyonthegrassatthefootoftheoak.”TheFalcon flewawayandafter twominutes returned, saying, “Ihavedone
whatyouhavecommanded.”“Howdidyoufindhim?Aliveordead?”“Atfirstglance,Ithoughthewasdead.ButIfoundIwaswrong,forassoon
asIloosenedtheknotaroundhisneck,hegavealongsighandmumbledwithafaintvoice,‘NowIfeelbetter!’”TheFairyclappedherhandstwice.AmagnificentPoodleappeared,walking
on his hind legs just like a man. He was dressed in court livery. A tricorntrimmedwithgoldlacewassetatarakishangleoverawigofwhitecurlsthatdroppeddowntohiswaist.Heworea jauntycoatofchocolate-coloredvelvet,withdiamondbuttons,andwithtwohugepocketswhichwerealwaysfilledwithbones, dropped there at dinner by his loving mistress. Breeches of crimsonvelvet, silk stockings, and low, silver-buckled slippers completed his costume.His tailwas encased in a blue silk covering,whichwas to protect it from the
rain.“Come,Medoro,”saidtheFairytohim.“Getmybestcoachreadyandsetout
toward the forest. On reaching the oak tree, you will find a poor, half-deadMarionette stretched out on the grass. Lift him up tenderly, place him on thesilkencushionsofthecoach,andbringhimheretome.”ThePoodle, toshowthatheunderstood,waggedhissilk-coveredtail twoor
threetimesandsetoffataquickpace.Ina fewminutes, a lovely littlecoach,madeofglass,with liningas soft as
whippedcreamandchocolatepudding,andstuffedwithcanaryfeathers,pulledout of the stable. It was drawn by one hundred pairs of white mice, and thePoodlesatonthecoachman’sseatandsnappedhiswhipgaylyintheair,asifhewerearealcoachmaninahurrytogettohisdestination.Inaquarterofanhourthecoachwasback.TheFairy,whowaswaitingatthe
door of the house, lifted the poor littleMarionette in her arms, took him to adainty roomwithmother-of-pearlwalls, puthim tobed, and sent immediatelyforthemostfamousdoctorsoftheneighborhoodtocometoher.Oneafteranotherthedoctorscame,aCrow,andOwl,andaTalkingCricket.“I should like to know, signori,” said theFairy, turning to the three doctors
gatheredaboutPinocchio’sbed,“IshouldliketoknowifthispoorMarionetteisdeadoralive.”At this invitation, theCrowsteppedoutandfeltPinocchio’spulse,hisnose,
hislittletoe.Thenhesolemnlypronouncedthefollowingwords:“TomymindthisMarionetteisdeadandgone;butif,byanyevilchance,he
werenot,thenthatwouldbeasuresignthatheisstillalive!”“Iamsorry,”saidtheOwl,“tohavetocontradicttheCrow,myfamousfriend
andcolleague.TomymindthisMarionetteisalive;butif,byanyevilchance,hewerenot,thenthatwouldbeasuresignthatheiswhollydead!”“Anddoyouholdanyopinion?”theFairyaskedtheTalkingCricket.“I say that awisedoctor,whenhedoesnot knowwhat he is talking about,
shouldknowenoughtokeephismouthshut.However,thatMarionetteisnotastrangertome.Ihaveknownhimalongtime!”Pinocchio,whountilthenhadbeenveryquiet,shudderedsohardthatthebed
shook.“ThatMarionette,” continued the Talking Cricket, “is a rascal of the worst
kind.”Pinocchioopenedhiseyesandclosedthemagain.
“Heisrude,lazy,arunaway.”Pinocchiohidhisfaceunderthesheets.“ThatMarionetteisadisobedientsonwhoisbreakinghisfather’sheart!”Longshudderingsobswereheard,cries,anddeepsighs.Thinkhowsurprised
everyonewaswhen,onraisingthesheets,theydiscoveredPinocchiohalfmeltedintears!“When the dead weep, they are beginning to recover,” said the Crow
solemnly.“Iamsorrytocontradictmyfamousfriendandcolleague,”saidtheOwl,“but
asfarasI’mconcerned,Ithinkthatwhenthedeadweep,itmeanstheydonotwanttodie.”
CHAPTER17
Pinocchio eats sugar, but refuses to take medicine. When the undertakerscomeforhim,hedrinksthemedicineandfeelsbetter.Afterwardshetellsalieand,inpunishment,hisnosegrowslongerandlonger.Assoonasthethreedoctorshadlefttheroom,theFairywenttoPinocchio’s
bedand,touchinghimontheforehead,noticedthathewasburningwithfever.She tookaglassofwater,putawhitepowder into it, and,handing it to the
Marionette,saidlovinglytohim:“Drinkthis,andinafewdaysyou’llbeupandwell.”Pinocchiolookedattheglass,madeawryface,andaskedinawhiningvoice:
“Isitsweetorbitter?”“Itisbitter,butitisgoodforyou.”“Ifitisbitter,Idon’twantit.”“Drinkit!”“Idon’tlikeanythingbitter.”“DrinkitandI’llgiveyoualumpofsugartotakethebitter tastefromyour
mouth.”“Where’sthesugar?”“Hereitis,”saidtheFairy,takingalumpfromagoldensugarbowl.“Iwantthesugarfirst,thenI’lldrinkthebitterwater.”“Doyoupromise?”“Yes.”TheFairygavehimthesugarandPinocchio,afterchewingandswallowingit
inatwinkling,said,smackinghislips:“Ifonlysugarweremedicine!Ishouldtakeiteveryday.”“Nowkeepyourpromiseanddrinkthesefewdropsofwater.They’llbegood
foryou.”Pinocchiotooktheglassinbothhandsandstuckhisnoseintoit.Helifteditto
hismouthandoncemorestuckhisnoseintoit.“Itistoobitter,muchtoobitter!Ican’tdrinkit.”“Howdoyouknow,whenyouhaven’teventastedit?”
“Icanimagineit.Ismellit.Iwantanotherlumpofsugar,thenI’lldrinkit.”TheFairy,withall thepatienceofagoodmother,gavehimmoresugarand
againhandedhimtheglass.“Ican’tdrinkitlikethat,”theMarionettesaid,makingmorewryfaces.“Why?”“Becausethatfeatherpillowonmyfeetbothersme.”TheFairytookawaythepillow.“It’snouse.Ican’tdrinkitevennow.”“What’sthematternow?”“Idon’tlikethewaythatdoorlooks.It’shalfopen.”TheFairyclosedthedoor.“Iwon’t drink it,” cried Pinocchio, bursting out crying. “Iwon’t drink this
awfulwater.Iwon’t.Iwon’t!No,no,no,no!”“Myboy,you’llbesorry.”“Idon’tcare.”“Youareverysick.”“Idon’tcare.”“Inafewhoursthefeverwilltakeyoufarawaytoanotherworld.”“Idon’tcare.”“Aren’tyouafraidofdeath?”“Notabit.I’dratherdiethandrinkthatawfulmedicine.”Atthatmoment,thedooroftheroomflewopenandincamefourRabbitsas
blackasink,carryingasmallblackcoffinontheirshoulders.“Whatdoyouwantfromme?”askedPinocchio.“Wehavecomeforyou,”saidthelargestRabbit.“Forme?ButI’mnotdeadyet!”“No,notdeadyet;butyouwillbeinafewmomentssinceyouhaverefusedto
takethemedicinewhichwouldhavemadeyouwell.”“Oh,Fairy,myFairy,” theMarionettecriedout,“giveme thatglass!Quick,
please!Idon’twanttodie!No,no,notyet—notyet!”Andholdingtheglasswithhistwohands,heswallowedthemedicineatone
gulp.“Well,”saidthefourRabbits,“thistimewehavemadethetripfornothing.”
Andturningontheirheels,theymarchedsolemnlyoutoftheroom,carryingtheirlittleblackcoffinandmutteringandgrumblingbetweentheirteeth.Inatwinkling,Pinocchiofeltfine.Withoneleaphewasoutofbedandinto
hisclothes.TheFairy,seeinghimrunandjumparoundtheroomgayasabirdonwing,
saidtohim:“Mymedicinewasgoodforyou,afterall,wasn’tit?”“Goodindeed!Ithasgivenmenewlife.”“Why,then,didIhavetobegyousohardtomakeyoudrinkit?”“I’maboy,yousee,andallboyshatemedicinemorethantheydosickness.”“Whatashame!Boysought toknow,afterall, thatmedicine, taken in time,
cansavethemfrommuchpainandevenfromdeath.”“Next time I won’t have to be begged so hard. I’ll remember those black
RabbitswiththeblackcoffinontheirshouldersandI’lltaketheglassandpouf!—downitwillgo!”“Comeherenowandtellmehowitcameaboutthatyoufoundyourselfinthe
handsoftheAssassins.”“IthappenedthatFireEatergavemefivegoldpiecestogivetomyFather,but
ontheway,ImetaFoxandaCat,whoaskedme,‘Doyouwantthefivepiecestobecometwothousand?’AndIsaid,‘Yes.’Andtheysaid,‘ComewithustotheFieldofWonders.’AndIsaid,‘Let’sgo.’Thentheysaid,‘LetusstopattheInnoftheRedLobsterfordinnerandaftermidnightwe’llsetoutagain.’Weateandwenttosleep.WhenIawoketheyweregoneandIstartedoutinthedarknessallalone.OntheroadImettwoAssassinsdressedinblackcoalsacks,whosaidtome,‘Yourmoneyoryourlife!’andIsaid,‘Ihaven’tanymoney’;for,yousee,Ihadput themoneyundermy tongue.Oneof them tried toputhishand inmymouthandIbititoffandspatitout;butitwasn’tahand,itwasacat’spaw.AndtheyranaftermeandIranandran,tillatlasttheycaughtmeandtiedmyneckwitharopeandhangedmetoatree,saying,‘Tomorrowwe’llcomebackforyouandyou’llbedeadandyourmouthwillbeopen,and thenwe’ll take thegoldpiecesthatyouhavehiddenunderyourtongue.’”“Wherearethegoldpiecesnow?”theFairyasked.“I lost them,” answeredPinocchio, but he told a lie, for hehad them inhis
pocket.Ashespoke,hisnose,longthoughitwas,becameatleasttwoincheslonger.“Andwheredidyoulosethem?”
“Inthewoodnearby.”Atthissecondlie,hisnosegrewafewmoreinches.“Ifyou lost themin thenear-bywood,”said theFairy,“we’ll lookfor them
andfindthem,foreverythingthatislostthereisalwaysfound.”“Ah, now I remember,” replied the Marionette, becoming more and more
confused.“Ididnotlosethegoldpieces,butIswallowedthemwhenIdrankthemedicine.”Atthisthirdlie,hisnosebecamelongerthanever,solongthathecouldnot
eventurnaround.Ifheturnedtotheright,heknockeditagainstthebedorintothewindowpanes;ifheturnedtotheleft,hestruckthewallsorthedoor;ifheraiseditabit,healmostputtheFairy’seyesout.TheFairysatlookingathimandlaughing.“Whydoyou laugh?” theMarionetteaskedher,worriednowat thesightof
hisgrowingnose.“Iamlaughingatyourlies.”“HowdoyouknowIamlying?”“Lies,myboy,areknowninamoment.Therearetwokindsoflies,lieswith
shortlegsandlieswithlongnoses.Yours,justnow,happentohavelongnoses.”Pinocchio, not knowing where to hide his shame, tried to escape from the
room,buthisnosehadbecomesolongthathecouldnotgetitoutofthedoor.
CHAPTER18
PinocchiofindstheFoxandtheCatagain,andgoeswiththemtosowthegoldpiecesintheFieldofWonders.Cryingasifhisheartwouldbreak,theMarionettemournedforhoursoverthe
lengthofhisnose.Nomatterhowhetried,itwouldnotgothroughthedoor.TheFairyshowednopitytowardhim,asshewastryingtoteachhimagoodlesson,sothathewouldstoptellinglies,theworsthabitanyboymayacquire.Butwhenshesawhim,palewithfrightandwithhiseyeshalfoutofhisheadfromterror,she began to feel sorry for him and clapped her hands together. A thousandwoodpeckersflewinthroughthewindowandsettledthemselvesonPinocchio’snose. They pecked and pecked so hard at that enormous nose that in a fewmoments,itwasthesamesizeasbefore.“How good you are,my Fairy,” said Pinocchio, drying his eyes, “and how
muchIloveyou!”“Iloveyou,too,”answeredtheFairy,“andifyouwishtostaywithme,you
maybemylittlebrotherandI’llbeyourgoodlittlesister.”“Ishouldliketostay—butwhataboutmypoorfather?”“Ihavethoughtofeverything.Yourfatherhasbeensentforandbeforenight
hewillbehere.”“Really?”criedPinocchiojoyfully.“Then,mygoodFairy,ifyouarewilling,I
shouldliketogotomeethim.Icannotwaittokissthatdearoldman,whohassufferedsomuchformysake.”“Surely;goahead,butbe carefulnot to loseyourway.Take thewoodpath
andyou’llsurelymeethim.”Pinocchiosetout,andassoonashefoundhimselfinthewood,heranlikea
hare.Whenhereachedthegiantoaktreehestopped,forhethoughtheheardarustle in the brush. He was right. There stood the Fox and the Cat, the twotravelingcompanionswithwhomhehadeatenattheInnoftheRedLobster.“Here comes our dear Pinocchio!” cried the Fox, hugging and kissing him.
“Howdidyouhappenhere?”“Howdidyouhappenhere?”repeatedtheCat.“Itisalongstory,”saidtheMarionette.“Letmetellittoyou.Theothernight,
whenyouleftmealoneattheInn,ImettheAssassinsontheroad—”
“TheAssassins?Oh,mypoorfriend!Andwhatdidtheywant?”“Theywantedmygoldpieces.”“Rascals!”saidtheFox.“Theworstsortofrascals!”addedtheCat.“ButIbegantorun,”continuedtheMarionette,“andtheyafterme,untilthey
overtookmeandhangedmetothelimbofthatoak.”Pinocchiopointedtothegiantoaknearby.“Couldanythingbeworse?”saidtheFox.“What an awful world to live in! Where shall we find a safe place for
gentlemenlikeourselves?”AstheFoxtalkedthus,PinocchionoticedthattheCatcarriedhisrightpawin
asling.“Whathappenedtoyourpaw?”heasked.TheCat triedtoanswer,buthebecamesoterriblytwistedinhisspeechthat
theFoxhadtohelphimout.“Myfriendistoomodesttoanswer.I’llanswerforhim.Aboutanhourago,
we met an old wolf on the road. He was half starved and begged for help.Havingnothingtogivehim,whatdoyouthinkmyfrienddidoutofthekindnessofhisheart?Withhis teeth,hebitoff thepawofhisfrontfootandthrewitatthatpoorbeast,sothathemighthavesomethingtoeat.”Ashespoke,theFoxwipedoffatear.Pinocchio,almostintearshimself,whisperedintheCat’sear:“Ifallthecatswerelikeyou,howluckythemicewouldbe!”“Andwhatareyoudoinghere?”theFoxaskedtheMarionette.“Iamwaitingformyfather,whowillbehereatanymomentnow.”“Andyourgoldpieces?”“Istillhavetheminmypocket,exceptonewhichIspentattheInnoftheRed
Lobster.”“Tothinkthatthosefourgoldpiecesmightbecometwothousandtomorrow.
Whydon’tyoulistentome?Whydon’tyousowthemintheFieldofWonders?”“Todayitisimpossible.I’llgowithyousomeothertime.”“Anotherdaywillbetoolate,”saidtheFox.“Why?”“Becausethatfieldhasbeenboughtbyaveryrichman,andtodayisthelast
daythatitwillbeopentothepublic.”“HowfaristhisFieldofWonders?”“Onlytwomilesaway.Willyoucomewithus?We’llbethereinhalfanhour.
You can sow the money, and, after a fewminutes, you will gather your twothousandcoinsandreturnhomerich.Areyoucoming?”Pinocchiohesitatedamomentbeforeanswering,forherememberedthegood
Fairy, oldGeppetto, and the advice of theTalkingCricket. Then he ended bydoingwhatallboysdo,whentheyhavenoheartandlittlebrain.HeshruggedhisshouldersandsaidtotheFoxandtheCat:“Letusgo!Iamwithyou.”Andtheywent.Theywalkedandwalkedforahalfadayatleastandatlasttheycametothe
town called the City of Simple Simons. As soon as they entered the town,Pinocchio noticed that all the streets were filled with hairless dogs, yawningfromhunger;withshearedsheep,tremblingwithcold;withcomblesschickens,begging for a grain ofwheat;with large butterflies, unable to use theirwingsbecausetheyhadsoldalltheirlovelycolors;withtaillesspeacocks,ashamedtoshow themselves; and with bedraggled pheasants, scuttling away hurriedly,grievingfortheirbrightfeathersofgoldandsilver,losttothemforever.Throughthiscrowdofpaupersandbeggars,abeautifulcoachpassednowand
again.WithinitsateitheraFox,aHawk,oraVulture.“WhereistheFieldofWonders?”askedPinocchio,growingtiredofwaiting.“Bepatient.Itisonlyafewmorestepsaway.”Theypassed through thecityand, justoutside thewalls, theystepped intoa
lonelyfield,whichlookedmoreorlesslikeanyotherfield.“Hereweare,”said theFoxto theMarionette.“Digaholehereandput the
goldpiecesintoit.”TheMarionetteobeyed.Hedugthehole,putthefourgoldpiecesintoit,and
coveredthemupverycarefully.“Now,”saidtheFox,“gotothatnear-bybrook,bringbackapailfullofwater,andsprinkleitoverthespot.”Pinocchiofollowedthedirectionsclosely,but,ashehadnopail,hepulledoff
his shoe, filled itwithwater, and sprinkled the earthwhich covered the gold.Thenheasked:“Anythingelse?”“Nothing else,” answered the Fox. “Now we can go. Return here within
twentyminutes andyouwill find the vine grown and the branches filledwithgoldpieces.”Pinocchio,besidehimselfwithjoy, thankedtheFoxandtheCatmanytimes
andpromisedthemeachabeautifulgift.“Wedon’twantanyofyourgifts,”answeredthetworogues.“Itisenoughfor
usthatwehavehelpedyoutobecomerichwithlittleornotrouble.Forthisweareashappyaskings.”They said good-by toPinocchio and,wishing himgood luck,went on their
way.
CHAPTER19
Pinocchioisrobbedofhisgoldpiecesand,inpunishment,issentencedtofourmonthsinprison.If theMarionettehadbeen told towaitaday insteadof twentyminutes, the
timecouldnothaveseemedlongertohim.HewalkedimpatientlytoandfroandfinallyturnedhisnosetowardtheFieldofWonders.Andashewalkedwithhurriedsteps,hisheartbeatwithanexcitedtic,tac,tic,
tac,justasifitwereawallclock,andhisbusybrainkeptthinking:“Whatif,insteadofathousand,Ishouldfindtwothousand?Orif,insteadof
twothousand,Ishouldfindfivethousand—oronehundredthousand?I’llbuildmyselfabeautifulpalace,withathousandstablesfilledwithathousandwoodenhorsestoplaywith,acellaroverflowingwithlemonadeandicecreamsoda,andalibraryofcandiesandfruits,cakesandcookies.”Thusamusinghimselfwithfancies,hecametothefield.Therehestoppedto
see if, by any chance, a vine filledwith gold coinswas in sight. But he sawnothing! He took a few steps forward, and still nothing! He stepped into thefield.Hewentup to theplacewherehehaddug thehole andburied thegoldpieces. Again nothing! Pinocchio became very thoughtful and, forgetting hisgoodmannersaltogether,hepulledahandoutofhispocketandgavehisheadathoroughscratching.Ashedidso,heheardaheartyburstoflaughterclosetohishead.Heturned
sharply, and there, just above him on the branch of a tree, sat a large Parrot,busilypreeninghisfeathers.“Whatareyoulaughingat?”Pinocchioaskedpeevishly.“Iam laughingbecause, inpreeningmy feathers, I tickledmyselfunder the
wings.”TheMarionettedidnotanswer.Hewalkedto thebrook,filledhisshoewith
water,andoncemoresprinkledthegroundwhichcoveredthegoldpieces.Anotherburstoflaughter,evenmoreimpertinentthanthefirst,washeardin
thequietfield.“Well,”criedtheMarionette,angrilythistime,“mayIknow,Mr.Parrot,what
amusesyouso?”“Iamlaughingatthosesimpletonswhobelieveeverythingtheyhearandwho
allowthemselvestobecaughtsoeasilyinthetrapssetforthem.”“Doyou,perhaps,meanme?”“Icertainlydomeanyou,poorPinocchio—youwhoaresuchalittlesillyasto
believethatgoldcanbesowninafieldjustlikebeansorsquash.I,too,believedthatonceandtodayIamverysorryforit.Today(buttoolate!)Ihavereachedthe conclusion that, in order to come bymoney honestly, onemustwork andknowhowtoearnitwithhandorbrain.”“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said the Marionette, who was
beginningtotremblewithfear.“Toobad!I’llexplainmyselfbetter,”saidtheParrot.“Whileyouwereaway
inthecitytheFoxandtheCatreturnedhereinagreathurry.Theytookthefourgoldpieceswhichyouhaveburiedandranawayasfastasthewind.Ifyoucancatchthem,you’reabraveone!”Pinocchio’smouthopenedwide.HewouldnotbelievetheParrot’swordsand
begantodigawayfuriouslyattheearth.Hedugandhedugtilltheholewasasbigashimself,butnomoneywasthere.Everypennywasgone.Indesperation,herantothecityandwentstraighttothecourthousetoreport
the robbery to the magistrate. The Judge was a Monkey, a large Gorillavenerablewithage.Aflowingwhitebeardcoveredhischestandheworegold-rimmed spectacles from which the glasses had dropped out. The reason forwearing these, he said, was that his eyes had beenweakened by thework ofmanyyears.Pinocchio,standingbeforehim, toldhispitiful tale,wordbyword.Hegave
thenamesandthedescriptionsoftherobbersandbeggedforjustice.TheJudgelistenedtohimwithgreatpatience.Akindlookshoneinhiseyes.
He became verymuch interested in the story; he feltmoved; he almostwept.WhentheMarionettehadnomoretosay,theJudgeputouthishandandrangabell.Atthesound,twolargeMastiffsappeared,dressedinCarabineers’uniforms.Thenthemagistrate,pointingtoPinocchio,saidinaverysolemnvoice:“This poor simpleton has been robbed of four gold pieces. Take him,
therefore,andthrowhimintoprison.”TheMarionette,onhearingthissentencepassed upon him, was thoroughly stunned. He tried to protest, but the twoofficersclappedtheirpawsonhismouthandhustledhimawaytojail.Therehehadtoremainforfourlong,wearymonths.Andifithadnotbeenfor
averyluckychance,heprobablywouldhavehadtostaytherelonger.For,my
dearchildren,youmustknowthatithappenedjustthenthattheyoungemperorwhoruledover theCityofSimpleSimonshadgainedagreatvictoryoverhisenemy, and in celebration thereof, he had ordered illuminations, fireworks,showsofallkinds,and,bestofall,theopeningofallprisondoors.“Iftheothersgo,Igo,too,”saidPinocchiototheJailer.“Notyou,”answeredtheJailer.“Youareoneofthose—”“Ibegyourpardon,”interruptedPinocchio,“I,too,amathief.”“Inthatcaseyoualsoarefree,”saidtheJailer.Takingoffhiscap,hebowed
lowandopened the door of the prison, andPinocchio ran out and away,withneveralookbackward.
CHAPTER20
Freedfromprison,PinocchiosetsouttoreturntotheFairy;butonthewayhemeetsaSerpentandlateriscaughtinatrap.FancythehappinessofPinocchioonfindinghimselffree!Withoutsayingyes
orno,hefledfromthecityandsetoutontheroadthatwastotakehimbacktothehouseofthelovelyFairy.It had rained for many days, and the road was so muddy that, at times,
Pinocchiosankdownalmosttohisknees.Buthekeptonbravely.Tormentedbythewishtoseehisfatherandhisfairysisterwithazurehair,he
racedlikeagreyhound.Asheran,hewassplashedwithmudevenuptohiscap.“How unhappy I have been,” he said to himself. “And yet I deserve
everything,forIamcertainlyverystubbornandstupid!Iwillalwayshavemyownway.Iwon’tlistentothosewholovemeandwhohavemorebrainsthanI.Butfromnowon,I’llbedifferentandI’lltrytobecomeamostobedientboy.Ihavefoundout,beyondanydoubtwhatever,thatdisobedientboysarecertainlyfarfromhappy,andthat,inthelongrun,theyalwaysloseout.IwonderifFatheriswaitingforme.WillIfindhimattheFairy’shouse?Itissolong,poorman,since I have seenhim, and I do sowant his love andhis kisses.Andwill theFairyeverforgivemeforallIhavedone?ShewhohasbeensogoodtomeandtowhomIowemylife!CantherebeaworseormoreheartlessboythanIamanywhere?”Ashespoke,hestoppedsuddenly,frozenwithterror.Whatwas thematter?An immenseSerpent laystretchedacross the road—a
Serpentwith a bright green skin, fiery eyeswhich glowed and burned, and apointedtailthatsmokedlikeachimney.HowfrightenedwaspoorPinocchio!Heranbackwildlyforhalfamile,and
atlastsettledhimselfatopaheapofstonestowaitfortheSerpenttogoonhiswayandleavetheroadclearforhim.Hewaitedanhour;twohours;threehours;buttheSerpentwasalwaysthere,
and even fromafar one could see the flashof his red eyes and the columnofsmokewhichrosefromhislong,pointedtail.Pinocchio, trying tofeelverybrave,walkedstraightup tohimandsaid ina
sweet,soothingvoice:“Ibegyourpardon,Mr.Serpent,wouldyoubesokindastostepasidetolet
mepass?”Hemightaswellhavetalkedtoawall.TheSerpentnevermoved.Oncemore,inthesamesweetvoice,hespoke:“You must know, Mr. Serpent, that I am going home where my father is
waitingforme.ItissolongsinceIhaveseenhim!WouldyoumindverymuchifIpassed?”Hewaitedforsomesignofananswertohisquestions,buttheanswerdidnot
come. On the contrary, the green Serpent, who had seemed, until then, wideawakeandfulloflife,becamesuddenlyveryquietandstill.Hiseyesclosedandhistailstoppedsmoking.“Is hedead, Iwonder?” saidPinocchio, rubbinghis hands together happily.
Withoutamoment’shesitation,hestartedtostepoverhim,buthehadjustraisedonelegwhentheSerpentshotuplikeaspringandtheMarionettefellheadoverheelsbackward.Hefellsoawkwardlythathisheadstuckinthemud,andtherehestoodwithhislegsstraightupintheair.AtthesightoftheMarionettekickingandsquirminglikeayoungwhirlwind,
theSerpentlaughedsoheartilyandsolongthatatlastheburstanarteryanddiedonthespot.Pinocchio freedhimself fromhisawkwardpositionandoncemorebegan to
run in order to reach theFairy’s house before dark.As hewent, the pangs ofhungergrewsostrongthat,unabletowithstandthem,hejumpedintoafieldtopickafewgrapesthattemptedhim.Woetohim!Nosoonerhadhereachedthegrapevinethan—crack!wenthislegs.The poorMarionette was caught in a trap set there by a Farmer for some
Weaselswhichcameeverynighttostealhischickens.
CHAPTER21
PinocchioiscaughtbyaFarmer,whouseshimasawatchdogforhischickencoop.Pinocchio,asyoumaywellimagine,begantoscreamandweepandbeg;but
allwasofnouse,fornohousesweretobeseenandnotasoulpassedbyontheroad.Nightcameon.A little because of the sharp pain in his legs, a little because of fright at
findinghimselfalone in thedarknessof the field, theMarionettewasabout tofaint,whenhesawatinyGlowwormflickeringby.Hecalledtoherandsaid:“DearlittleGlowworm,willyousetmefree?”“Poorlittlefellow!”repliedtheGlowworm,stoppingtolookathimwithpity.
“Howcameyoutobecaughtinthistrap?”“Isteppedintothislonelyfieldtotakeafewgrapesand—”“Arethegrapesyours?”“No.”“Whohastaughtyoutotakethingsthatdonotbelongtoyou?”“Iwashungry.”“Hunger, my boy, is no reason for taking something which belongs to
another.”“It’strue,it’strue!”criedPinocchiointears.“Iwon’tdoitagain.”Just then, the conversationwas interruptedby approaching footsteps. Itwas
theownerofthefield,whowascomingontiptoestoseeif,bychance,hehadcaughttheWeaselswhichhadbeeneatinghischickens.Greatwashissurprisewhen,onholdinguphislantern,hesawthat,insteadof
aWeasel,hehadcaughtaboy!“Ah,youlittlethief!”saidtheFarmerinanangryvoice.“Soyouaretheone
whostealsmychickens!”“NotI!No,no!”criedPinocchio,sobbingbitterly.“Icamehereonlytotakea
veryfewgrapes.”“Hewhostealsgrapesmayveryeasilystealchickensalso.Takemywordfor
it,I’llgiveyoualessonthatyou’llrememberforalongwhile.”Heopenedthetrap,grabbedtheMarionettebythecollar,andcarriedhimto
thehouseasifhewereapuppy.Whenhereachedtheyardinfrontofthehouse,heflunghimtotheground,putafootonhisneck,andsaidtohimroughly:“Itislatenowandit’stimeforbed.Tomorrowwe’llsettlematters.Inthemeantime,sincemywatchdogdiedtoday,youmaytakehisplaceandguardmyhenhouse.”No sooner said thandone.He slippedadogcollar aroundPinocchio’sneck
andtighteneditsothatitwouldnotcomeoff.Alongironchainwastiedtothecollar.Theotherendofthechainwasnailedtothewall.“If tonight itshouldhappentorain,”said theFarmer,“youcansleepin that
littledoghousenear-by,whereyouwillfindplentyofstrawforasoftbed.IthasbeenMelampo’sbedforthreeyears,anditwillbegoodenoughforyou.Andif,byanychance,anythievesshouldcome,besuretobark!”After this lastwarning, theFarmerwent into thehouse andclosed thedoor
andbarredit.Poor Pinocchio huddled close to the doghouse more dead than alive from
cold,hunger,andfright.Nowandagainhepulledandtuggedatthecollarwhichnearlychokedhimandcriedoutinaweakvoice:“I deserve it! Yes, I deserve it! I have been nothing but a truant and a
vagabond.IhaveneverobeyedanyoneandIhavealwaysdoneasIpleased.IfIwereonlylikesomanyothersandhadstudiedandworkedandstayedwithmypoor old father, I should not find myself here now, in this field and in thedarkness, taking theplaceofa farmer’swatchdog.Oh, if Icouldstartalloveragain!Butwhatisdonecan’tbeundone,andImustbepatient!”After this little sermon to himself,which came from the very depths of his
heart,Pinocchiowentintothedoghouseandfellasleep.
CHAPTER22
Pinocchiodiscovers the thievesand, asa reward for faithfulness,he regainshisliberty.Eventhoughaboymaybeveryunhappy,heveryseldomlosessleepoverhis
worries.TheMarionette,beingnoexceptiontothisrule,sleptonpeacefullyforafewhours tillwell along towardmidnight,whenhewas awakenedby strangewhisperingsandstealthysoundscomingfromtheyard.Hestuckhisnoseoutofthe doghouse and saw four slender, hairy animals. They wereWeasels, smallanimalsveryfondofbotheggsandchickens.Oneofthemlefthercompanionsand,goingtothedoorofthedoghouse,saidinasweetvoice:“Goodevening,Melampo.”“MynameisnotMelampo,”answeredPinocchio.“Whoareyou,then?”“IamPinocchio.”“Whatareyoudoinghere?”“I’mthewatchdog.”“But where is Melampo? Where is the old dog who used to live in this
house?”“Hediedthismorning.”“Died?Poorbeast!Hewassogood!Still,judgingbyyourface,Ithinkyou,
too,areagood-natureddog.”“Ibegyourpardon,Iamnotadog!”“Whatareyou,then?”“IamaMarionette.”“Areyoutakingtheplaceofthewatchdog?”“I’msorrytosaythatIam.I’mbeingpunished.”“Well, I shall make the same terms with you that we had with the dead
Melampo.Iamsureyouwillbegladtohearthem.”“Andwhataretheterms?”“Thisisourplan:We’llcomeonceinawhile,asinthepast,topayavisitto
this henhouse, andwe’ll take away eight chickens.Of these, seven are for us,
andoneforyou,provided,ofcourse,thatyouwillmakebelieveyouaresleepingandwillnotbarkfortheFarmer.”“DidMelamporeallydothat?”askedPinocchio.“Indeedhedid,andbecauseof thatwewerethebestoffriends.Sleepaway
peacefully,andrememberthatbeforewegoweshallleaveyouanicefatchickenallreadyforyourbreakfastinthemorning.Isthatunderstood?”“Eventoowell,”answeredPinocchio.Andshakinghisheadinathreatening
manner,heseemedtosay,“We’lltalkthisoverinafewminutes,myfriends.”AssoonasthefourWeaselshadtalkedthingsover,theywentstraighttothe
chickencoopwhichstoodclosetothedoghouse.Diggingbusilywithteethandclaws,theyopenedthelittledoorandslippedin.Buttheywerenosoonerinthantheyheardthedoorclosewithasharpbang.TheonewhohaddonethetrickwasPinocchio,who,notsatisfiedwiththat,
draggedaheavystoneinfrontofit.Thatdone,hestartedtobark.Andhebarkedasifhewerearealwatchdog:“Bow,wow,wow!Bow,wow!”TheFarmerheardthe loudbarksandjumpedoutofbed.Takinghisgun,he
leapedtothewindowandshouted:“What’sthematter?”“Thethievesarehere,”answeredPinocchio.“Wherearethey?”“Inthechickencoop.”“I’llcomedowninasecond.”And,infact,hewasdownintheyardinatwinklingandrunningtowardthe
chickencoop.Heopenedthedoor,pulledouttheWeaselsonebyone,and,aftertyingthem
in a bag, said to them in a happy voice: “You’re inmyhands at last! I couldpunishyounow,butI’llwait!Inthemorningyoumaycomewithmetotheinnandthereyou’llmakeafinedinnerforsomehungrymortal.Itisreallytoogreatanhonorforyou,oneyoudonotdeserve;but,asyousee,IamreallyaverykindandgenerousmanandIamgoingtodothisforyou!”ThenhewentuptoPinocchioandbegantopetandcaresshim.“Howdidyoueverfindthemoutsoquickly?AndtothinkthatMelampo,my
faithfulMelampo,neversawtheminalltheseyears!”The Marionette could have told, then and there, all he knew about the
shameful contract between the dog and theWeasels, but thinking of the deaddog,hesaidtohimself:“Melampoisdead.Whatistheuseofaccusinghim?The
dead are gone and they cannot defend themselves. The best thing to do is toleavetheminpeace!”“Wereyouawakeorasleepwhentheycame?”continuedtheFarmer.“I was asleep,” answered Pinocchio, “but they awakened me with their
whisperings.Oneofthemevencametothedoorofthedoghouseandsaidtome,‘Ifyoupromisenottobark,wewillmakeyouapresentofoneofthechickensfor your breakfast.’Did youhear that?Theyhad the audacity tomake such apropositionasthattome!Foryoumustknowthat, thoughIamaverywickedMarionettefulloffaults,stillIneverhavebeen,norevershallbe,bribed.”“Fineboy!”criedtheFarmer,slappinghimontheshoulderinafriendlyway.
“Yououghttobeproudofyourself.AndtoshowyouwhatIthinkofyou,youarefreefromthisinstant!”Andheslippedthedogcollarfromhisneck.
CHAPTER23
Pinocchioweeps upon learning that the LovelyMaidenwithAzureHair isdead.Hemeets aPigeon,who carries him to the seashore.He throwshimselfintotheseatogototheaidofhisfather.As soon as Pinocchio no longer felt the shameful weight of the dog collar
around his neck, he started to run across the fields and meadows, and neverstoppedtillhecametothemainroadthatwastotakehimtotheFairy’shouse.Whenhereachedit,helookedintothevalleyfarbelowhimandtherehesaw
thewoodwhereunluckilyhehadmettheFoxandtheCat,andthetalloaktreewherehehadbeenhanged;butthoughhesearchedfarandnear,hecouldnotseethehousewheretheFairywiththeAzureHairlived.He became terribly frightened and, running as fast as he could, he finally
cametothespotwhereithadoncestood.Thelittlehousewasnolongerthere.Initsplacelayasmallmarbleslab,whichborethissadinscription:HERELIES
THELOVELYFAIRYWITHAZUREHAIR
WHODIEDOFGRIEF
WHENABANDONEDBY
HERLITTLEBROTHERPINOCCHIO
ThepoorMarionettewasheartbrokenat reading thesewords.He fell to thegroundand,coveringthecoldmarblewithkisses,burstintobittertears.Hecriedall night, and dawn found him still there, though his tears had dried and onlyhard,drysobsshookhiswoodenframe.Buttheseweresoloudthattheycouldbeheardbythefarawayhills.Ashesobbedhesaidtohimself:“Oh,myFairy,mydear,dearFairy,whydidyoudie?WhydidInotdie,who
amsobad,insteadofyou,whoaresogood?Andmyfather—wherecanhebe?PleasedearFairy,tellmewhereheisandIshallnever,neverleavehimagain!Youarenotreallydead,areyou?Ifyouloveme,youwillcomeback,aliveasbefore.Don’tyoufeelsorryforme?I’msolonely.If thetwoAssassinscome,they’ll hangme again from the giant oak tree and Iwill really die, this time.WhatshallIdoaloneintheworld?Nowthatyouaredeadandmyfatherislost,whereshall Ieat?Whereshall Isleep?Whowillmakemynewclothes?Oh,Iwanttodie!Yes,Iwanttodie!Oh,oh,oh!”PoorPinocchio!Heeventriedtotearhishair,butasitwasonlypaintedonhis
woodenhead,hecouldnotevenpullit.JustthenalargePigeonflewfarabovehim.SeeingtheMarionette,hecriedto
him:“Tellme,littleboy,whatareyoudoingthere?”“Can’tyousee?I’mcrying,”criedPinocchio,liftinghisheadtowardthevoice
andrubbinghiseyeswithhissleeve.“Tell me,” asked the Pigeon, “do you by chance know of a Marionette,
Pinocchiobyname?”“Pinocchio!DidyousayPinocchio?” replied theMarionette, jumping tohis
feet.“Why,IamPinocchio!”Atthisanswer,thePigeonflewswiftlydowntotheearth.Hewasmuchlarger
thanaturkey.“ThenyouknowGeppettoalso?”“Do I know him? He’s my father, my poor, dear father! Has he, perhaps,
spoken toyouofme?Willyou takeme tohim? Ishe still alive?Answerme,please!Ishestillalive?”“Ilefthimthreedaysagoontheshoreofalargesea.”“Whatwashedoing?”“Hewasbuildingalittleboatwithwhichtocrosstheocean.Forthelastfour
months,thatpoormanhasbeenwanderingaroundEurope,lookingforyou.Nothaving found you yet, he has made up his mind to look for you in the NewWorld,faracrosstheocean.”“Howfarisitfromheretotheshore?”askedPinocchioanxiously.“Morethanfiftymiles.”“Fiftymiles?Oh,dearPigeon,howIwishIhadyourwings!”“Ifyouwanttocome,I’lltakeyouwithme.”“How?”“Astridemyback.Areyouveryheavy?”“Heavy?Notatall.I’monlyafeather.”“Verywell.”Saying nothing more, Pinocchio jumped on the Pigeon’s back and, as he
settledhimself,hecriedoutgayly:“Gallopon,gallopon,myprettysteed!I’minagreathurry.”ThePigeonflewaway,andinafewminuteshehadreachedtheclouds.The
Marionettelookedtoseewhatwasbelowthem.Hisheadswamandhewassofrightened that he clutched wildly at the Pigeon’s neck to keep himself fromfalling.Theyflewallday.TowardeveningthePigeonsaid:“I’mverythirsty!”“AndI’mveryhungry!”saidPinocchio.“Letusstopafewminutesatthatpigeoncoopdownthere.Thenwecangoon
andbeattheseashoreinthemorning.”Theywent into the emptycoopand there they foundnothingbut abowlof
waterandasmallbasketfilledwithchick-peas.The Marionette had always hated chick-peas. According to him, they had
alwaysmadehimsick;but thatnightheate themwitharelish.Ashefinishedthem,heturnedtothePigeonandsaid:“Inevershouldhavethoughtthatchick-peascouldbesogood!”“Youmustremember,myboy,”answeredthePigeon,“thathungeristhebest
sauce!”Afterrestingafewminuteslonger,theysetoutagain.Thenextmorningthey
wereattheseashore.Pinocchio jumped off the Pigeon’s back, and the Pigeon, not wanting any
thanksforakinddeed,flewawayswiftlyanddisappeared.Theshorewasfullofpeople,shriekingandtearingtheirhairas theylooked
towardthesea.“Whathashappened?”askedPinocchioofalittleoldwoman.“Apooroldfatherlosthisonlysonsometimeagoandtodayhebuilta tiny
boatforhimself inorder togoinsearchofhimacross theocean.Thewater isveryroughandwe’reafraidhewillbedrowned.”“Whereisthelittleboat?”“There. Straight down there,” answered the little old woman, pointing to a
tinyshadow,nobiggerthananutshell,floatingonthesea.Pinocchiolookedcloselyforafewminutesandthengaveasharpcry:“It’smyfather!It’smyfather!”Meanwhile, the little boat, tossed about by the angry waters, appeared and
disappearedinthewaves.AndPinocchio,standingonahighrock,tiredoutwithsearching,wavedtohimwithhandandcapandevenwithhisnose.ItlookedasifGeppetto,thoughfarawayfromtheshore,recognizedhisson,
forhetookoffhiscapandwavedalso.Heseemedtobetryingtomakeeveryoneunderstandthathewouldcomebackifhewereable,but theseawassoheavythathecoulddonothingwithhisoars.Suddenlyahugewavecameandtheboatdisappeared.Theywaitedandwaitedforit,butitwasgone.“Poorman!” said the fisher folk on the shore, whispering a prayer as they
turnedtogohome.Just then a desperate cry was heard. Turning around, the fisher folk saw
Pinocchiodiveintotheseaandheardhimcryout:“I’llsavehim!I’llsavemyfather!”TheMarionette, beingmade ofwood, floated easily along and swam like a
fish in the roughwater.Now and again he disappeared only to reappear oncemore.Inatwinkling,hewasfarawayfromland.Atlasthewascompletelylosttoview.“Poorboy!”criedthefisherfolkontheshore,andagaintheymumbledafew
prayers,astheyreturnedhome.
CHAPTER24
PinocchioreachestheIslandoftheBusyBeesandfindstheFairyoncemore.Pinocchio,spurredonbythehopeoffindinghisfatherandofbeingintimeto
savehim,swamallnightlong.Andwhatahorriblenightitwas!Itpouredrain,ithailed,itthundered,andthe
lightningwassobrightthatitturnedthenightintoday.At dawn, he saw, not far away fromhim, a long stretch of sand. Itwas an
islandinthemiddleofthesea.Pinocchiotriedhisbesttogetthere,buthecouldn’t.Thewavesplayedwith
him and tossed him about as if hewere a twig or a bit of straw.At last, andluckilyforhim,atremendouswavetossedhimtotheveryspotwherehewantedtobe.Theblowfromthewavewassostrongthat,ashefelltotheground,hisjointscrackedandalmostbroke.But,nothingdaunted,hejumpedtohisfeetandcried:“OncemoreIhaveescapedwithmylife!”Littlebylittletheskycleared.Thesuncameoutinfullsplendorandthesea
becameascalmasalake.ThentheMarionettetookoffhisclothesandlaidthemonthesandtodry.He
lookedoverthewaterstoseewhetherhemightcatchsightofaboatwithalittlemaninit.Hesearchedandhesearched,buthesawnothingexceptseaandskyandfarawayafewsails,sosmallthattheymighthavebeenbirds.“IfonlyIknewthenameofthisisland!”hesaidtohimself.“IfIevenknew
whatkindofpeopleIwouldfindhere!ButwhomshallIask?Thereisnoonehere.”Theideaoffindinghimselfinsolonesomeaspotmadehimsosadthathewas
abouttocry,butjustthenhesawabigFishswimmingnear-by,withhisheadfaroutofthewater.Notknowingwhattocallhim,theMarionettesaidtohim:“Heythere,Mr.Fish,mayIhaveawordwithyou?”“Eventwo,ifyouwant,”answeredthefish,whohappenedtobeaverypolite
Dolphin.“Willyoupleasetellmeif,onthisisland,thereareplaceswhereonemayeat
withoutnecessarilybeingeaten?”“Surely,thereare,”answeredtheDolphin.“Infactyou’llfindonenotfarfrom
thisspot.”“AndhowshallIgetthere?”“Takethatpathonyourleftandfollowyournose.Youcan’tgowrong.”“Tellmeanotherthing.Youwhotraveldayandnightthroughthesea,didyou
notperhapsmeetalittleboatwithmyfatherinit?”“Andwhoisyoufather?”“He is the best father in theworld, even as I am theworst son that can be
found.”“Inthestormoflastnight,”answeredtheDolphin,“thelittleboatmusthave
beenswamped.”“Andmyfather?”“Bythistime,hemusthavebeenswallowedbytheTerribleShark,which,for
thelastfewdays,hasbeenbringingterrortothesewaters.”“IsthisSharkverybig?”askedPinocchio,whowasbeginningtotremblewith
fright.“Ishebig?”repliedtheDolphin.“Justtogiveyouanideaofhissize,letme
tellyouthatheislargerthanafivestorybuildingandthathehasamouthsobigandsodeep,thatawholetrainandenginecouldeasilygetintoit.”“Mothermine!”criedtheMarionette,scaredtodeath;anddressinghimselfas
fastashecould,heturnedtotheDolphinandsaid:“Farewell,Mr.Fish.Pardonthebother,andmanythanksforyourkindness.”Thissaid,hetookthepathatsoswiftagaitthatheseemedtofly,andatevery
smallsoundheheard,he turned in fear toseewhether theTerribleShark, fivestorieshighandwithatraininhismouth,wasfollowinghim.Afterwalkingahalfhour,hecametoasmallcountrycalledtheLandofthe
BusyBees. The streetswere filledwith people running to and fro about theirtasks. Everyone worked, everyone had something to do. Even if one were tosearchwithalantern,notoneidlemanoronetrampcouldhavebeenfound.“Iunderstand,”saidPinocchioatoncewearily,“thisisnoplaceforme!Iwas
notbornforwork.”But in themeantime, he began to feel hungry, for itwas twenty-four hours
sincehehadeaten.Whatwastobedone?
Therewereonly twomeans left tohim inorder togetabite toeat.Hehadeithertoworkortobeg.Hewasashamedtobeg,becausehisfatherhadalwayspreachedtohimthat
beggingshouldbedoneonlybythesickortheold.Hehadsaidthattherealpoorin this world, deserving of our pity and help, were only those who, eitherthroughageorsickness,hadlostthemeansofearningtheirbreadwiththeirownhands.Allothersshouldwork,andiftheydidn’t,andwenthungry,somuchtheworseforthem.Justthenamanpassedby,wornoutandwetwithperspiration,pulling,with
difficulty,twoheavycartsfilledwithcoal.Pinocchiolookedathimand,judginghimbyhislookstobeakindman,said
tohimwitheyesdowncastinshame:“Willyoubesogoodastogivemeapenny,forIamfaintwithhunger?”“Notonlyonepenny,”answeredtheCoalMan.“I’llgiveyoufourifyouwill
helpmepullthesetwowagons.”“Iamsurprised!”answeredtheMarionette,verymuchoffended.“Iwishyou
toknowthatIneverhavebeenadonkey,norhaveIeverpulledawagon.”“Somuchthebetterforyou!”answeredtheCoalMan.“Then,myboy,ifyou
arereallyfaintwithhunger,eattwoslicesofyourpride;andIhopetheydon’tgiveyouindigestion.”Afewminutesafter,aBricklayerpassedby,carryingapailfullofplasteron
hisshoulder.“Goodman,willyoubekindenough togiveapenny toapoorboywho is
yawningfromhunger?”“Gladly,” answered theBricklayer. “Comewithme and carry some plaster,
andinsteadofonepenny,I’llgiveyoufive.”“But the plaster is heavy,” answeredPinocchio, “and thework too hard for
me.”“If thework is too hard for you,my boy, enjoy your yawns andmay they
bringyouluck!”Inlessthanahalfhour,atleasttwentypeoplepassedandPinocchiobeggedof
eachone,buttheyallanswered:“Aren’tyouashamed?Insteadofbeingabeggarinthestreets,whydon’tyou
lookforworkandearnyourownbread?”Finallyalittlewomanwentbycarryingtwowaterjugs.
“Goodwoman,will you allowme to have a drink fromoneof your jugs?”askedPinocchio,whowasburningupwiththirst.“Withpleasure,myboy!” she answered, setting the two jugson theground
beforehim.WhenPinocchiohadhadhisfill,hegrumbled,ashewipedhismouth:“Mythirstisgone.IfIcouldonlyaseasilygetridofmyhunger!”Onhearingthesewords,thegoodlittlewomanimmediatelysaid:“Ifyouhelpmetocarrythesejugshome,I’llgiveyouasliceofbread.”Pinocchiolookedatthejugandsaidneitheryesnorno.“Andwiththebread,I’llgiveyouanicedishofcauliflowerwithwhitesauce
onit.”Pinocchiogavethejuganotherlookandsaidneitheryesnorno.“Andafterthecauliflower,somecakeandjam.”Atthislastbribery,Pinocchiocouldnolongerresistandsaidfirmly:“Verywell.I’lltakethejughomeforyou.”Thejugwasveryheavy,andtheMarionette,notbeingstrongenoughtocarry
itwithhishands,hadtoputitonhishead.Whentheyarrivedhome,thelittlewomanmadePinocchiositdownatasmall
tableandplacedbeforehimthebread,thecauliflower,andthecake.Pinocchiodidnoteat;hedevoured.Hisstomachseemedabottomlesspit.Hishungerfinallyappeased,heraisedhisheadtothankhiskindbenefactress.
Buthehadnotlookedatherlongwhenhegaveacryofsurpriseandsattherewithhiseyeswideopen,hisforkintheair,andhismouthfilledwithbreadandcauliflower.“Whyallthissurprise?”askedthegoodwoman,laughing.“Because—”answeredPinocchio,stammeringandstuttering,“because—you
looklike—youremindmeof—yes,yes,thesamevoice,thesameeyes,thesamehair—yes, yes, yes, you alsohave the sameazurehair shehad—Oh,my littleFairy,mylittleFairy!Tellmethatit isyou!Don’tmakemecryanylonger!Ifyouonlyknew!Ihavecriedsomuch,Ihavesufferedso!”And Pinocchio threw himself on the floor and clasped the knees of the
mysteriouslittlewoman.
CHAPTER25
PinocchiopromisestheFairytobegoodandtostudy,asheisgrowingtiredofbeingaMarionette,andwishestobecomearealboy.IfPinocchiocriedmuchlonger,thelittlewomanthoughthewouldmeltaway,
soshefinallyadmittedthatshewasthelittleFairywithAzureHair.“You rascal of a Marionette! How did you know it was I?” she asked,
laughing.“Myloveforyoutoldmewhoyouwere.”“Doyouremember?YouleftmewhenIwasalittlegirlandnowyoufindme
agrownwoman.Iamsoold,Icouldalmostbeyourmother!”“Iamverygladofthat,forthenIcancallyoumotherinsteadofsister.Fora
longtimeIhavewantedamother,justlikeotherboys.Buthowdidyougrowsoquickly?”“That’sasecret!”“Tell it tome. Ialsowant togrowa little.Lookatme! Ihavenevergrown
higherthanapenny’sworthofcheese.”“Butyoucan’tgrow,”answeredtheFairy.“Whynot?”“Because Marionettes never grow. They are born Marionettes, they live
Marionettes,andtheydieMarionettes.”“Oh, I’m tired of always being aMarionette!” cried Pinocchio disgustedly.
“It’sabouttimeformetogrowintoamanaseveryoneelsedoes.”“Andyouwillifyoudeserveit—”“Really?WhatcanIdotodeserveit?”“It’saverysimplematter.Trytoactlikeawell-behavedchild.”“Don’tyouthinkIdo?”“Farfromit!Goodboysareobedient,andyou,onthecontrary—”“AndIneverobey.”“Goodboyslovestudyandwork,butyou—”“AndI,onthecontrary,amalazyfellowandatrampallyearround.”“Goodboysalwaystellthetruth.”
“AndIalwaystelllies.”“Goodboysgogladlytoschool.”“AndIgetsickifIgotoschool.FromnowonI’llbedifferent.”“Doyoupromise?”“I promise. I want to become a good boy and be a comfort to my father.
Whereismypoorfathernow?”“Idonotknow.”“WillIeverbeluckyenoughtofindhimandembracehimoncemore?”“Ithinkso.Indeed,Iamsureofit.”Atthisanswer,Pinocchio’shappinesswasverygreat.HegraspedtheFairy’s
hands and kissed them so hard that it looked as if he had lost his head.Thenliftinghis face,he lookedather lovinglyandasked:“Tellme, littleMother, itisn’ttruethatyouaredead,isit?”“Itdoesn’tseemso,”answeredtheFairy,smiling.“IfyouonlyknewhowIsufferedandhowIweptwhenIread‘Herelies—‘”“Iknowit,andforthatIhaveforgivenyou.Thedepthofyoursorrowmade
me see that you have a kind heart.There is always hope for boyswith heartssuchasyours, though theymayoftenbeverymischievous.This is the reasonwhy Ihavecomeso far to look foryou.Fromnowon, I’llbeyourown littlemother.”“Oh!Howlovely!”criedPinocchio,jumpingwithjoy.“YouwillobeymealwaysanddoasIwish?”“Gladly,verygladly,morethangladly!”“Beginningtomorrow,”saidtheFairy,“you’llgotoschooleveryday.”Pinocchio’sfacefellalittle.“Thenyouwillchoosethetradeyoulikebest.”Pinocchiobecamemoreserious.“Whatareyoumumblingtoyourself?”askedtheFairy.“Iwasjustsaying,”whinedtheMarionetteinawhisper,“thatitseemstoolate
formetogotoschoolnow.”“No,indeed.Rememberitisnevertoolatetolearn.”“ButIdon’twanteithertradeorprofession.”“Why?”
“Becauseworkweariesme!”“Mydearboy,”saidtheFairy,“peoplewhospeakasyoudousuallyendtheir
dayseitherinaprisonorinahospital.Aman,remember,whetherrichorpoor,should do something in this world. No one can find happiness without work.Woe betide the lazy fellow!Laziness is a serious illness and onemust cure itimmediately;yes,evenfromearlychildhood.Ifnot,itwillkillyouintheend.”ThesewordstouchedPinocchio’sheart.HeliftedhiseyestohisFairyandsaid
seriously: “I’llwork; I’ll study; I’ll do all you tellme.After all, the life of aMarionette has grown very tiresome to me and I want to become a boy, nomatterhowharditis.Youpromisethat,doyounot?”“Yes,Ipromise,andnowitisuptoyou.”
CHAPTER26
PinocchiogoestotheseashorewithhisfriendstoseetheTerribleShark.Inthemorning,brightandearly,Pinocchiostartedforschool.ImaginewhattheboyssaidwhentheysawaMarionetteentertheclassroom!
Theylaugheduntiltheycried.Everyoneplayedtricksonhim.Onepulledhishatoff,anothertuggedathiscoat,athirdtriedtopaintamustacheunderhisnose.Oneevenattemptedtotiestringstohisfeetandhishandstomakehimdance.ForawhilePinocchiowasverycalmandquiet.Finally,however,helostall
patienceandturningtohistormentors,hesaidtothemthreateningly:“Careful,boys,Ihaven’tcomeheretobemadefunof.I’llrespectyouandI
wantyoutorespectme.”“HurrahforDr.Know-all!Youhavespokenlikeaprintedbook!”howledthe
boys,burstingwithlaughter.Oneofthem,moreimpudentthantherest,putouthishandtopulltheMarionette’snose.Buthewasnotquickenough,forPinocchiostretchedhislegunderthetable
andkickedhimhardontheshin.“Oh,what hard feet!” cried the boy, rubbing the spotwhere theMarionette
hadkickedhim.“Andwhatelbows!Theyareevenharderthanthefeet!”shoutedanotherone,
who,becauseofsomeothertrick,hadreceivedablowinthestomach.With thatkickand thatblowPinocchiogainedeverybody’s favor.Everyone
admiredhim,dancedattendanceuponhim,pettedandcaressedhim.Asthedayspassedintoweeks,eventheteacherpraisedhim,forhesawhim
attentive, hard working, and wide awake, always the first to come in themorning,andthelasttoleavewhenschoolwasover.Pinocchio’sonly faultwas thathehad toomanyfriends.Among thesewere
manywell-knownrascals,whocarednotajotforstudyorforsuccess.The teacherwarnedhimeachday,andeven thegoodFairy repeated tohim
manytimes:“Takecare,Pinocchio!Thosebadcompanionswillsoonerorlatermakeyou
loseyourloveforstudy.Somedaytheywillleadyouastray.”“There’snosuchdanger,”answered theMarionette, shrugginghis shoulders
andpointingtohisforeheadasiftosay,“I’mtoowise.”Soithappenedthatoneday,ashewaswalkingtoschool,hemetsomeboys
whoranuptohimandsaid:“Haveyouheardthenews?”“No!”“ASharkasbigasamountainhasbeenseenneartheshore.”“Really?IwonderifitcouldbethesameoneIheardofwhenmyfatherwas
drowned?”“Wearegoingtoseeit.Areyoucoming?”“No,notI.Imustgotoschool.”“Whatdoyoucareaboutschool?Youcangotheretomorrow.Withalesson
moreorless,wearealwaysthesamedonkeys.”“Andwhatwilltheteachersay?”“Lethimtalk.Heispaidtogrumblealldaylong.”“Andmymother?”“Mothersdon’tknowanything,”answeredthosescamps.“DoyouknowwhatI’lldo?”saidPinocchio.“Forcertainreasonsofmine,I,
too,wanttoseethatShark;butI’llgoafterschool.Icanseehimthenaswellasnow.”“Poorsimpleton!”criedoneoftheboys.“Doyouthinkthatafishofthatsize
willstandtherewaitingforyou?Heturnsandoffhegoes,andnoonewilleverbethewiser.”“Howlongdoesittakefromheretotheshore?”askedtheMarionette.“One
hourthereandback.”“Verywell,then.Let’sseewhogetstherefirst!”criedPinocchio.Atthesignal,thelittletroop,withbooksundertheirarms,dashedacrossthe
fields.Pinocchioledtheway,runningasifonwings,theothersfollowingasfastastheycould.Nowandagain,he lookedbackand, seeinghis followershotand tired, and
withtongueshangingout,helaughedoutheartily.Unhappyboy!Ifhehadonlyknown then the dreadful things thatwere to happen to him on account of hisdisobedience!
CHAPTER27
The great battle between Pinocchio and his playmates. One is wounded.Pinocchioisarrested.Goinglikethewind,Pinocchiotookbutaveryshorttimetoreachtheshore.
He glanced all about him, but there was no sign of a Shark. The sea was assmoothasglass.“Heythere,boys!Where’sthatShark?”heasked,turningtohisplaymates.“Hemayhavegoneforhisbreakfast,”saidoneofthem,laughing.“Or,perhaps,hewenttobedforalittlenap,”saidanother,laughingalso.From the answers and the laughter which followed them, Pinocchio
understoodthattheboyshadplayedatrickonhim.“Whatnow?”hesaidangrilytothem.“What’sthejoke?”“Oh, the joke’s on you!” cried his tormentors, laughingmore heartily than
ever,anddancinggaylyaroundtheMarionette.“Andthatis—?”“That we have made you stay out of school to come with us. Aren’t you
ashamedofbeingsuchagoody-goody,andofstudyingsohard?Youneverhaveabitofenjoyment.”“Andwhatisittoyou,ifIdostudy?”“Whatdoestheteacherthinkofus,youmean?”“Why?”“Don’tyousee?Ifyoustudyandwedon’t,wepayforit.Afterall, it’sonly
fairtolookoutforourselves.”“Whatdoyouwantmetodo?”“Hate school and books and teachers, as we all do. They are your worst
enemies,youknow,andtheyliketomakeyouasunhappyastheycan.”“AndifIgoonstudying,whatwillyoudotome?”“You’llpayforit!”“Really,youamuseme,”answeredtheMarionette,noddinghishead.“Hey,Pinocchio,”cried the tallestof themall,“thatwilldo.Weare tiredof
hearing you bragging about yourself, you little turkey cock! Youmay not be
afraidofus,butrememberwearenotafraidofyou,either!Youarealone,youknow,andweareseven.”“Likethesevensins,”saidPinocchio,stilllaughing.“Didyouhearthat?Hehasinsultedusall.Hehascalledussins.”“Pinocchio,apologizeforthat,orlookout!”“Cuck—oo!”saidtheMarionette,mockingthemwithhisthumbtohisnose.“You’llbesorry!”“Cuck—oo!”“We’llwhipyousoundly!”“Cuck—oo!”“You’llgohomewithabrokennose!”“Cuck—oo!”“Very well, then! Take that, and keep it for your supper,” called out the
boldestofhistormentors.Andwiththewords,hegavePinocchioaterribleblowonthehead.Pinocchio answered with another blow, and that was the signal for the
beginningofthefray.Inafewmoments,thefightragedhotandheavyonbothsides.Pinocchio,althoughalone,defendedhimselfbravely.Withthosetwowooden
feet of his, heworked so fast that his opponents kept at a respectful distance.Wherevertheylanded,theylefttheirpainfulmarkandtheboyscouldonlyrunawayandhowl.EnragedatnotbeingabletofighttheMarionetteatclosequarters,theystarted
to throw all kinds of books at him.Readers, geographies, histories, grammarsflew in all directions.ButPinocchiowas keenof eye and swift ofmovement,andthebooksonlypassedoverhishead,landedinthesea,anddisappeared.Thefish,thinkingtheymightbegoodtoeat,cametothetopofthewaterin
great numbers. Some took a nibble, some took a bite, but no sooner had theytastedapageortwo,thantheyspatthemoutwithawryface,asiftosay:“Whatahorridtaste!Ourownfoodissomuchbetter!”Meanwhile, the battle waxedmore and more furious. At the noise, a large
Crab crawled slowly out of the water and, with a voice that sounded like atrombonesufferingfromacold,hecriedout:“Stop fighting, you rascals! These battles between boys rarely end well.
Troubleissuretocometoyou!”
PoorCrab!Hemightaswellhavespokentothewind.Insteadoflisteningtohisgoodadvice,Pinocchioturnedtohimandsaidasroughlyasheknewhow:“Keepquiet,uglyGab!Itwouldbebetterforyoutochewafewcoughdrops
togetridofthatcoldyouhave.Gotobedandsleep!Youwillfeelbetterinthemorning.”Inthemeantime,theboys,havingusedalltheirbooks,lookedaroundfornew
ammunition. Seeing Pinocchio’s bundle lying idle near-by, they somehowmanagedtogetholdofit.Oneofthebookswasaverylargevolume,anarithmetictext,heavilybound
inleather.ItwasPinocchio’spride.Amongallhisbooks,helikedthatonethebest.Thinking itwouldmake a finemissile, one of the boys took hold of it and
threw it with all his strength at Pinocchio’s head. But instead of hitting theMarionette,thebookstruckoneoftheotherboys,who,aspaleasaghost,criedoutfaintly:“Oh,Mother,help!I’mdying!”andfellsenselesstotheground.At the sight of that pale little corpse, the boyswere so frightened that they
turnedtailandran.Inafewmoments,allhaddisappeared.AllexceptPinocchio.Althoughscaredtodeathbythehorrorofwhathadbeen
done,herantotheseaandsoakedhishandkerchiefinthecoolwaterandwithitbathedtheheadofhispoorlittleschoolmate.Sobbingbitterly,hecalledtohim,saying:“Eugene!MypoorEugene!Openyoureyesandlookatme!Whydon’tyou
answer? Iwasnot theonewhohit you,youknow.Believeme, I didn’tdo it.Openyoureyes,Eugene?Ifyoukeepthemshut,I’lldie,too.Oh,dearme,howshallIevergohomenow?HowshallIeverlookatmylittlemotheragain?Whatwillhappentome?WhereshallIgo?WhereshallIhide?Oh,howmuchbetteritwouldhavebeen,athousandtimesbetter,ifonlyIhadgonetoschool!WhydidIlistentothoseboys?Theyalwayswereabadinfluence!Andtothinkthatthe teacher had told me—and my mother, too!—‘Beware of bad company!’That’swhatshesaid.ButI’mstubbornandproud.Ilisten,butalwaysIdoasIwish.AndthenIpay.I’veneverhadamoment’speacesinceI’vebeenborn!Oh,dear!Whatwillbecomeofme?Whatwillbecomeofme?”Pinocchiowentoncryingandmoaningandbeatinghishead.Againandagain
hecalledtohislittlefriend,whensuddenlyheheardheavystepsapproaching.HelookedupandsawtwotallCarabineersnearhim.“Whatareyoudoingstretchedoutontheground?”theyaskedPinocchio.
“I’mhelpingthisschoolfellowofmine.”“Hashefainted?”“I should say so,” said one of the Carabineers, bending to look at Eugene.
“Thisboyhasbeenwoundedonthetemple.Whohashurthim?”“NotI,”stammeredtheMarionette,whohadhardlyabreathleftinhiswhole
body.“Ifitwasn’tyou,whowasit,then?”“NotI,”repeatedPinocchio.“Andwithwhatwashewounded?”“Withthisbook,”andtheMarionettepickedupthearithmetictexttoshowit
totheofficer.“Andwhosebookisthis?”“Mine.”“Enough.”“Notanotherword!Getupasquicklyasyoucanandcomealongwithus.”“ButI—”“Comewithus!”“ButIaminnocent.”“Comewithus!”Beforestartingout,theofficerscalledouttoseveralfishermenpassingbyina
boatandsaidtothem:“Takecareofthislittlefellowwhohasbeenhurt.Takehimhomeandbindhis
wounds.Tomorrowwe’llcomeafterhim.”TheythentookholdofPinocchioand,puttinghimbetweenthem,saidtohim
inaroughvoice:“March!Andgoquickly,oritwillbetheworseforyou!”Theydidnothavetorepeattheirwords.TheMarionettewalkedswiftlyalong
theroadtothevillage.Butthepoorfellowhardlyknewwhathewasabout.Hethoughthehadanightmare.Hefeltill.Hiseyessaweverythingdouble,hislegstrembled,his tonguewasdry, and, tryashemight,hecouldnotutter a singleword.Yet,inspiteofthisnumbnessoffeeling,hesufferedkeenlyatthethoughtofpassingunderthewindowsofhisgoodlittleFairy’shouse.WhatwouldshesayonseeinghimbetweentwoCarabineers?They had just reached the village, when a sudden gust of wind blew off
Pinocchio’scapandmadeitgosailingfardownthestreet.
“Would you allowme,” theMarionette asked theCarabineers, “to run aftermycap?”“Verywell,go;buthurry.”TheMarionettewent,pickeduphiscap—butinsteadofputtingitonhishead,
hestuckitbetweenhisteethandthenracedtowardthesea.Hewentlikeabulletoutofagun.TheCarabineers, judging that itwouldbeverydifficult tocatchhim, senta
large Mastiff after him, one that had won first prize in all the dog races.PinocchioranfastandtheDogranfaster.Atsomuchnoise,thepeoplehungoutof thewindowsorgatheredin thestreet,anxious tosee theendof thecontest.Buttheyweredisappointed,fortheDogandPinocchioraisedsomuchdustontheroadthat,afterafewmoments,itwasimpossibletoseethem.
CHAPTER28
Pinocchiorunsthedangerofbeingfriedinapanlikeafish
During thatwild chase,Pinocchio lived through a terriblemomentwhenhealmostgavehimselfupas lost.ThiswaswhenAlidoro(thatwas theMastiff’sname), in a frenzy of running, came so near that hewas on the very point ofreachinghim.TheMarionette heard, close behind him, the labored breathing of the beast
whowasfastonhistrail,andnowandagainevenfelthishotbreathblowoverhim.Luckily,bythistime,hewasveryneartheshore,andtheseawasinsight;in
fact,onlyafewshortstepsaway.Assoonasheset footon thebeach,Pinocchiogavea leapandfell into the
water.Alidorotriedtostop,butashewasrunningveryfast,hecouldn’t,andhe,too, landed farout in the sea.Strange though itmay seem, theDogcouldnotswim.He beat thewaterwith his paws to hold himself up, but the harder hetried,thedeeperhesank.Ashestuckhisheadoutoncemore,thepoorfellow’seyeswerebulgingandhebarkedoutwildly,“Idrown!Idrown!”“Drown!”answeredPinocchiofromafar,happyathisescape.“Help,Pinocchio,dearlittlePinocchio!Savemefromdeath!”Atthosecriesofsuffering,theMarionette,whoafterallhadaverykindheart,
wasmovedtocompassion.Heturnedtowardthepooranimalandsaidtohim:“ButifIhelpyou,willyoupromisenottobothermeagainbyrunningafter
me?”“Ipromise!Ipromise!Onlyhurry,forifyouwaitanothersecond,I’llbedead
andgone!”Pinocchio hesitated still anotherminute. Then, remembering how his father
had often told him that a kind deed is never lost, he swam to Alidoro and,catchingholdofhistail,draggedhimtotheshore.ThepoorDogwassoweakhecouldnot stand.Hehadswallowedsomuch
saltwaterthathewasswollenlikeaballoon.However,Pinocchio,notwishingtotrusthimtoomuch,threwhimselfonceagainintothesea.Asheswamaway,hecalledout:
“Good-by,Alidoro,goodluckandremembermetothefamily!”“Good-by,littlePinocchio,”answeredtheDog.“Athousandthanksforhaving
savedmefromdeath.Youdidmeagoodturn,and,inthisworld,whatisgivenisalwaysreturned.Ifthechancecomes,Ishallbethere.”Pinocchio went on swimming close to shore. At last he thought he had
reachedasafeplace.Glancingupanddownthebeach,hesawtheopeningofacaveoutofwhichroseaspiralofsmoke.“Inthatcave,”hesaidtohimself,“theremustbeafire.Somuchthebetter.I’ll
drymyclothesandwarmmyself,andthen—well—”Hismindmadeup,Pinocchioswamtotherocks,butashestartedtoclimb,he
felt somethingunderhim liftinghimuphigherandhigher.He tried toescape,buthewastoolate.Tohisgreatsurprise,hefoundhimselfinahugenet,amidacrowd of fish of all kinds and sizes, who were fighting and strugglingdesperatelytofreethemselves.Atthesametime,hesawaFishermancomeoutofthecave,aFishermanso
uglythatPinocchiothoughthewasaseamonster.Inplaceofhair,hisheadwascoveredbya thickbushofgreengrass.Greenwas theskinofhisbody,greenwerehiseyes,greenwasthelong,longbeardthatreacheddowntohisfeet.Helookedlikeagiantlizardwithlegsandarms.WhentheFishermanpulledthenetoutofthesea,hecriedoutjoyfully:“BlessedProvidence!OncemoreI’llhaveafinemealoffish!”“ThankHeaven,I’mnotafish!”saidPinocchiotohimself,tryingwiththese
wordstofindalittlecourage.TheFishermantook thenetand thefish to thecave,adark,gloomy,smoky
place.Inthemiddleofit,apanfullofoilsizzledoverasmokyfire,sendingoutarepellingodoroftallowthattookawayone’sbreath.“Now, let’s see what kind of fish we have caught today,” said the Green
Fisherman.Heputahandasbigasaspadeintothenetandpulledoutahandfulofmullets.“Finemullets, these!”hesaid,after lookingat themandsmelling themwith
pleasure.Afterthat,hethrewthemintoalarge,emptytub.Many timeshe repeated thisperformance.Ashepulledeach fishoutof the
net,hismouthwateredwiththethoughtofthegooddinnercoming,andhesaid:“Finefish,thesebass!”“Verytasty,thesewhitefish!”
“Deliciousflounders,these!”“Whatsplendidcrabs!”“Andthesedearlittleanchovies,withtheirheadsstillon!”Asyoucanwellimagine,thebass,theflounders,thewhitefish,andeventhe
littleanchoviesallwenttogetherintothetubtokeepthemulletscompany.ThelasttocomeoutofthenetwasPinocchio.As soon as theFishermanpulledhimout, his green eyesopenedwidewith
surprise,andhecriedoutinfear:“Whatkindoffishisthis?Idon’trememberevereatinganythinglikeit.”Helookedathimcloselyandafterturninghimoverandover,hesaidatlast:“Iunderstand.Hemustbeacrab!”Pinocchio,mortifiedatbeingtakenforacrab,saidresentfully:“Whatnonsense!Acrab indeed! I amno such thing.Bewarehowyoudeal
withme!IamaMarionette,Iwantyoutoknow.”“AMarionette?”askedtheFisherman.“ImustadmitthataMarionettefishis,
forme,anentirelynewkindoffish.Somuchthebetter.I’lleatyouwithgreaterrelish.”“Eatme?Butcan’tyouunderstandthatI’mnotafish?Can’tyouhearthatI
speakandthinkasyoudo?”“It’strue,”answeredtheFisherman;“butsinceIseethatyouareafish,well
abletotalkandthinkasIdo,I’lltreatyouwithallduerespect.”“Andthatis—”“That, as a signofmyparticular esteem, I’ll leave toyou the choiceof the
mannerinwhichyouaretobecooked.Doyouwishtobefriedinapan,ordoyouprefertobecookedwithtomatosauce?”“Totellyouthetruth,”answeredPinocchio,“ifImustchoose,Ishouldmuch
rathergofreesoImayreturnhome!”“Areyou fooling?Doyou think that Iwant to lose theopportunity to taste
suchararefish?AMarionettefishdoesnotcomeveryoftentotheseseas.Leaveittome.I’llfryyouinthepanwiththeothers.Iknowyou’lllikeit.It’salwaysacomforttofindoneselfingoodcompany.”The unluckyMarionette, hearing this, began to cry andwail and beg.With
tearsstreamingdownhischeeks,hesaid:“Howmuchbetteritwouldhavebeenformetogotoschool!Ididlistento
myplaymatesandnowIampayingforit!Oh!Oh!Oh!”
Andashestruggledandsquirmedlikeaneeltoescapefromhim,theGreenFishermantookastoutcordandtiedhimhandandfoot,andthrewhimintothebottomofthetubwiththeothers.Thenhepulledawoodenbowlfullofflouroutofacupboardandstartedto
rollthefishintoit,onebyone.Whentheywerewhitewithit,hethrewthemintothepan.Thefirsttodanceinthehotoilwerethemullets,thebassfollowed,thenthe whitefish, the flounders, and the anchovies. Pinocchio’s turn came last.Seeinghimselfsoneartodeath(andsuchahorribledeath!)hebegantotremblesowithfrightthathehadnovoiceleftwithwhichtobegforhislife.The poor boy beseeched onlywith his eyes. But theGreen Fisherman, not
even noticing that it was he, turned him over and over in the flour until helookedlikeaMarionettemadeofchalk.Thenhetookhimbytheheadand...
CHAPTER29
Pinocchio returns to the Fairy’s house and she promises him that, on themorrow,hewillceasetobeaMarionetteandbecomeaboy.Awonderfulpartyofcoffee-and-milktocelebratethegreatevent.Mindful of what the Fisherman had said, Pinocchio knew that all hope of
beingsavedhadgone.Heclosedhiseyesandwaitedforthefinalmoment.Suddenly,alargeDog,attractedbytheodoroftheboilingoil,camerunning
intothecave.“Get out!” cried the Fisherman threateningly and still holding onto the
Marionette,whowasallcoveredwithflour.ButthepoorDogwasveryhungry,andwhiningandwagginghistail,hetried
tosay:“GivemeabiteofthefishandI’llgoinpeace.”“Getout,Isay!”repeatedtheFisherman.AndhedrewbackhisfoottogivetheDogakick.Then theDog,who, being reallyhungry,would takeno refusal, turned in a
rage toward theFishermanandbaredhis terriblefangs.Andat thatmoment,apitifullittlevoicewasheardsaying:“Saveme,Alidoro;ifyoudon’t,Ifry!”TheDogimmediatelyrecognizedPinocchio’svoice.Greatwashissurpriseto
findthatthevoicecamefromthelittleflour-coveredbundlethattheFishermanheldinhishand.Thenwhatdidhedo?Withonegreatleap,hegraspedthatbundleinhismouth
and,holding it lightlybetweenhis teeth, ran through thedooranddisappearedlikeaflash!TheFisherman, angry at seeing hismeal snatched fromunder his nose, ran
aftertheDog,butabadfitofcoughingmadehimstopandturnback.Meanwhile, Alidoro, as soon as he had found the road which led to the
village,stoppedanddroppedPinocchiosoftlytotheground.“HowmuchIdothankyou!”saidtheMarionette.“It is not necessary,” answered theDog. “You savedme once, andwhat is
givenisalwaysreturned.Weareinthisworldtohelponeanother.”“Buthowdidyougetinthatcave?”
“Iwaslyinghereonthesandmoredeadthanalive,whenanappetizingodoroffriedfishcametome.ThatodortickledmyhungerandIfollowedit.Oh,ifIhadcomeamomentlater!”“Don’t speakabout it,”wailedPinocchio, still tremblingwith fright. “Don’t
say a word. If you had come a moment later, I would be fried, eaten, anddigestedbythistime.Brrrrrr!Ishiveratthemerethoughtofit.”AlidorolaughinglyheldouthispawtotheMarionette,whoshookitheartily,
feeling that nowhe and theDogweregood friends.Then theybid eachothergood-byandtheDogwenthome.Pinocchio,leftalone,walkedtowardalittlehutnearby,whereanoldmansat
atthedoorsunninghimself,andasked:“Tellme,goodman,haveyouheardanythingofapoorboywithawounded
head,whosenamewasEugene?”“Theboywasbroughttothishutandnow—”“Nowheisdead?”Pinocchiointerruptedsorrowfully.“No,heisnowaliveandhehasalreadyreturnedhome.”“Really?Really?”cried theMarionette, jumpingaroundwith joy.“Then the
woundwasnotserious?”“But it might have been—and evenmortal,” answered the oldman, “for a
heavybookwasthrownathishead.”“Andwhothrewit?”“Aschoolmateofhis,acertainPinocchio.”“AndwhoisthisPinocchio?”askedtheMarionette,feigningignorance.“Theysayheisamischief-maker,atramp,astreeturchin—”“Calumnies!Allcalumnies!”“DoyouknowthisPinocchio?”“Bysight!”answeredtheMarionette.“Andwhatdoyouthinkofhim?”askedtheoldman.“Ithinkhe’saverygoodboy,fondofstudy,obedient,kindtohisFather,and
tohiswholefamily—”Ashewastellingalltheseenormousliesabouthimself,Pinocchiotouchedhis
noseandfoundittwiceaslongasitshouldbe.Scaredoutofhiswits,hecriedout:“Don’t listen tome,goodman!All thewonderful thingsIhavesaidarenot
trueatall.IknowPinocchiowellandheisindeedaverywickedfellow,lazyanddisobedient,who instead of going to school, runs awaywith his playmates tohaveagoodtime.”Atthisspeech,hisnosereturnedtoitsnaturalsize.“Whyareyousopale?”theoldmanaskedsuddenly.“Letmetellyou.Withoutknowingit,Irubbedmyselfagainstanewlypainted
wall,”helied,ashamedtosaythathehadbeenmadereadyforthefryingpan.“Whathaveyoudonewithyourcoatandyourhatandyourbreeches?”“Imet thieves and they robbedme. Tell me, my goodman, have you not,
perhaps,alittlesuittogiveme,sothatImaygohome?”“Myboy,asforclothes,IhaveonlyabaginwhichIkeephops.Ifyouwantit,
takeit.Thereitis.”Pinocchiodidnotwait forhim to repeathiswords.He took thebag,which
happenedtobeempty,andaftercuttingabigholeatthetopandtwoatthesides,he slipped into it as if it were a shirt. Lightly clad as he was, he started outtowardthevillage.Along thewayhe felt veryuneasy. In fact hewas sounhappy that hewent
alongtakingtwostepsforwardandoneback,andashewenthesaidtohimself:“HowshallIeverfacemygoodlittleFairy?Whatwillshesaywhenshesees
me?Will she forgive this last trickofmine? Iamsure shewon’t.Oh,no, shewon’t.And Ideserve it, asusual!For I ama rascal, fineonpromiseswhich Ineverkeep!”Hecametothevillagelateatnight.Itwassodarkhecouldseenothingandit
wasrainingpitchforks.Pinocchiowentstraight to theFairy’shouse, firmlyresolvedtoknockat the
door.When he found himself there, he lost courage and ran back a few steps.A
secondtimehecametothedoorandagainheranback.Athirdtimeherepeatedhis performance. The fourth time, before he had time to lose his courage, hegraspedtheknockerandmadeafaintsoundwithit.Hewaited andwaited andwaited.Finally, after a full half hour, a top-floor
window (the house had four stories) opened and Pinocchio saw a large Snaillookout.Atinylightglowedontopofherhead.“Whoknocksatthislatehour?”shecalled.“IstheFairyhome?”askedtheMarionette.
“TheFairyisasleepanddoesnotwishtobedisturbed.Whoareyou?”“ItisI.”“Who’sI?”“Pinocchio.”“WhoisPinocchio?”“TheMarionette;theonewholivesintheFairy’shouse.”“Oh,Iunderstand,”saidtheSnail.“Waitformethere.I’llcomedowntoopen
thedoorforyou.”“Hurry,Ibegofyou,forIamdyingofcold.”“Myboy,Iamasnailandsnailsareneverinahurry.”Anhourpassed,twohours;andthedoorwasstillclosed.Pinocchio,whowas
trembling with fear and shivering from the cold rain on his back, knocked asecondtime,thistimelouderthanbefore.Atthatsecondknock,awindowonthethirdflooropenedandthesameSnail
lookedout.“DearlittleSnail,”criedPinocchiofromthestreet.“Ihavebeenwaitingtwo
hours foryou!And twohoursonadreadfulnight like this are as longas twoyears.Hurry,please!”“Myboy,”answeredtheSnailinacalm,peacefulvoice,“mydearboy,Iama
snailandsnailsareneverinahurry.”Andthewindowclosed.Afewminuteslatermidnightstruck;thenoneo’clock—twoo’clock.Andthe
doorstillremainedclosed!Then Pinocchio, losing all patience, grabbed the knocker with both hands,
fully determined to awaken thewhole house and streetwith it.As soon as hetouched the knocker, however, it became an eel and wiggled away into thedarkness.“Really?”criedPinocchio,blindwithrage.“Iftheknockerisgone,Icanstill
usemyfeet.”Hesteppedbackandgavethedooramostsolemnkick.Hekickedsohardthat
hisfootwentstraightthroughthedoorandhislegfollowedalmosttotheknee.Nomatterhowhepulledandtugged,hecouldnotpullitout.Therehestayedasifnailedtothedoor.PoorPinocchio!Therestofthenighthehadtospendwithonefootthrough
thedoorandtheotheroneintheair.Asdawnwasbreaking,thedoorfinallyopened.Thatbravelittleanimal,the
Snail,hadtakenexactlyninehourstogofromthefourthfloortothestreet.Howshemusthaveraced!“What are you doing with your foot through the door?” she asked the
Marionette,laughing.“Itwas amisfortune.Won’t you try, pretty littleSnail, to freeme from this
terribletorture?”“Myboy,weneedacarpenterhereandIhaveneverbeenone.”“AsktheFairytohelpme!”“TheFairyisasleepanddoesnotwanttobedisturbed.”“Butwhatdoyouwantmetodo,nailedtothedoorlikethis?”“Enjoyyourselfcountingtheantswhicharepassingby.”“Bringmesomethingtoeat,atleast,forIamfaintwithhunger.”“Immediately!”Infact,afterthreehoursandahalf,Pinocchiosawherreturnwithasilvertray
onherhead.Onthetraytherewasbread,roastchicken,fruit.“HereisthebreakfasttheFairysendstoyou,”saidtheSnail.Atthesightofallthesegoodthings,theMarionettefeltmuchbetter.Whatwashisdisgust,however,whenontastingthefood,hefoundthebread
tobemadeofchalk,thechickenofcardboard,andthebrilliantfruitofcoloredalabaster!Hewantedtocry,hewantedtogivehimselfuptodespair,hewantedtothrow
awaythetrayandallthatwasonit.Instead,eitherfrompainorweakness,hefelltothefloorinadeadfaint.Whenheregainedhissenses,hefoundhimselfstretchedoutonasofaandthe
Fairywasseatednearhim.“ThistimealsoIforgiveyou,”saidtheFairytohim.“Butbecarefulnottoget
intomischiefagain.”Pinocchiopromisedtostudyandtobehavehimself.Andhekepthiswordfor
theremainderoftheyear.Attheendofit,hepassedfirstinallhisexaminations,andhisreportwassogoodthattheFairysaidtohimhappily:“Tomorrowyourwishwillcometrue.”“Andwhatisit?”“TomorrowyouwillceasetobeaMarionetteandwillbecomearealboy.”Pinocchiowasbesidehimselfwithjoy.Allhisfriendsandschoolmatesmust
be invited to celebrate the great event! The Fairy promised to prepare twohundred cups of coffee-and-milk and four hundred slices of toast buttered onbothsides.Thedaypromisedtobeaverygayandhappyone,but—Unluckily, in aMarionette’s life there’s alwaysaBUTwhich is apt to spoil
everything.
CHAPTER30
Pinocchio,insteadofbecomingaboy,runsawaytotheLandofToyswithhisfriend,Lamp-Wick.Coming at last out of the surprise intowhich theFairy’swords had thrown
him,Pinocchioaskedforpermissiontogiveouttheinvitations.“Indeed,youmayinviteyourfriendstotomorrow’sparty.Onlyrememberto
returnhomebeforedark.Doyouunderstand?”“I’llbebackinonehourwithoutfail,”answeredtheMarionette.“Take care, Pinocchio! Boys give promises very easily, but they as easily
forgetthem.”“ButIamnotlikethoseothers.WhenIgivemywordIkeepit.”“We shall see. In case you do disobey, you will be the one to suffer, not
anyoneelse.”“Why?”“Becauseboyswhodonotlistentotheireldersalwayscometogrief.”“Icertainlyhave,”saidPinocchio,“butfromnowon,Iobey.”“Weshallseeifyouaretellingthetruth.”Without adding anotherword, theMarionette bade the goodFairy good-by,
andsinginganddancing,heleftthehouse.In a little more than an hour, all his friends were invited. Some accepted
quicklyandgladly.Othershadtobecoaxed,butwhentheyheardthatthetoastwastobebutteredonbothsides,theyallendedbyacceptingtheinvitationwiththewords,“We’llcometopleaseyou.”Nowitmustbeknownthat,amongallhisfriends,Pinocchiohadonewhom
helovedmostofall.Theboy’srealnamewasRomeo,buteveryonecalledhimLamp-Wick,forhewaslongandthinandhadawoebegonelookabouthim.Lamp-Wickwasthelaziestboyintheschoolandthebiggestmischief-maker,
butPinocchiolovedhimdearly.Thatday,hewentstraighttohisfriend’shousetoinvitehimtotheparty,but
Lamp-Wickwasnotathome.Hewentasecondtime,andagainathird,butstillwithoutsuccess.
Wherecouldhebe?Pinocchiosearchedhereandthereandeverywhere,andfinallydiscoveredhimhidingnearafarmer’swagon.“Whatareyoudoingthere?”askedPinocchio,runninguptohim.“Iamwaitingformidnighttostriketogo—”“Where?”“Far,faraway!”“AndIhavegonetoyourhousethreetimestolookforyou!”“Whatdidyouwantfromme?”“Haven’tyouheardthenews?Don’tyouknowwhatgoodluckismine?”“Whatisit?”“TomorrowIendmydaysasaMarionetteandbecomeaboy,likeyouandall
myotherfriends.”“Mayitbringyouluck!”“ShallIseeyouatmypartytomorrow?”“ButI’mtellingyouthatIgotonight.”“Atwhattime?”“Atmidnight.”“Andwhereareyougoing?”“Toarealcountry—thebestintheworld—awonderfulplace!”“Whatisitcalled?”“ItiscalledtheLandofToys.Whydon’tyoucome,too?”“I?Oh,no!”“You aremaking a bigmistake, Pinocchio.Believeme, if you don’t come,
you’llbesorry.Wherecanyoufindaplacethatwillagreebetterwithyouandme?No schools, no teachers, nobooks! In that blessedplace there is no suchthingasstudy.Here,itisonlyonSaturdaysthatwehavenoschool.IntheLandofToys,everyday,exceptSunday,isaSaturday.VacationbeginsonthefirstofJanuary and ends on the last day of December. That is the place forme!Allcountriesshouldbelikeit!Howhappyweshouldallbe!”“ButhowdoesonespendthedayintheLandofToys?”“Daysarespentinplayandenjoymentfrommorntillnight.Atnightonegoes
to bed, and nextmorning, the good times begin all over again.What do youthinkofit?”“H’m—!”saidPinocchio,noddinghiswoodenhead,asiftosay,“It’sthekind
oflifewhichwouldagreewithmeperfectly.”“Doyouwanttogowithme,then?Yesorno?Youmustmakeupyourmind.”“No,no,andagainno!IhavepromisedmykindFairytobecomeagoodboy,
andIwant tokeepmyword.Justsee:ThesunissettingandImust leaveyouandrun.Good-byandgoodlucktoyou!”“Whereareyougoinginsuchahurry?”“Home.MygoodFairywantsmetoreturnhomebeforenight.”“Waittwominutesmore.”“It’stoolate!”“Onlytwominutes.”“AndiftheFairyscoldsme?”“Letherscold.Aftershegetstired,shewillstop,”saidLamp-Wick.“Areyougoingaloneorwithothers?”“Alone?Therewillbemorethanahundredofus!”“Willyouwalk?”“Atmidnightthewagonpassesherethatistotakeuswithintheboundariesof
thatmarvelouscountry.”“HowIwishmidnightwouldstrike!”“Why?”“Toseeyouallsetouttogether.”“Stayhereawhilelongerandyouwillseeus!”“No,no.Iwanttoreturnhome.”“Waittwomoreminutes.”“Ihavewaitedtoolongasitis.TheFairywillbeworried.”“PoorFairy!Issheafraidthebatswilleatyouup?”“Listen,Lamp-Wick,”saidtheMarionette,“areyoureallysurethatthereare
noschoolsintheLandofToys?”“Noteventheshadowofone.”“Notevenoneteacher?”“Notone.”“Andonedoesnothavetostudy?”“Never,never,never!”“What a great land!” said Pinocchio, feeling his mouth water. “What a
beautifulland!Ihaveneverbeenthere,butIcanwellimagineit.”
“Whydon’tyoucome,too?”“It is useless for you to temptme! I told you I promisedmygoodFairy to
behavemyself,andIamgoingtokeepmyword.”“Good-by, then, and remember me to the grammar schools, to the high
schools,andeventothecollegesifyoumeetthemontheway.”“Good-by, Lamp-Wick.Have a pleasant trip, enjoy yourself, and remember
yourfriendsonceinawhile.”Withthesewords,theMarionettestartedonhiswayhome.Turningoncemore
tohisfriend,heaskedhim:“But are you sure that, in that country, each week is composed of six
SaturdaysandoneSunday?”“Verysure!”“AndthatvacationbeginsonthefirstofJanuaryandendsonthethirty-firstof
December?”“Very,verysure!”“Whatagreatcountry!”repeatedPinocchio,puzzledastowhattodo.Then,insuddendetermination,hesaidhurriedly:“Good-byforthelasttime,andgoodluck.”“Good-by.”“Howsoonwillyougo?”“Withintwohours.”“Whatapity!Ifitwereonlyonehour,Imightwaitforyou.”“AndtheFairy?”“BythistimeI’mlate,andonehourmoreorlessmakesverylittledifference.”“PoorPinocchio!AndiftheFairyscoldsyou?”“Oh,I’llletherscold.Aftershegetstired,shewillstop.”In the meantime, the night became darker and darker. All at once in the
distance a small light flickered.A queer sound could be heard, soft as a littlebell,andfaintandmuffledlikethebuzzofafar-awaymosquito.“Thereitis!”criedLamp-Wick,jumpingtohisfeet.“What?”whisperedPinocchio.“Thewagonwhichiscomingtogetme.Forthelasttime,areyoucomingor
not?”
“Butisitreallytruethatinthatcountryboysneverhavetostudy?”“Never,never,never!”“Whatawonderful,beautiful,marvelouscountry!Oh—h—h!!”
CHAPTER31
Afterfivemonthsofplay,Pinocchiowakesuponefinemorningandfindsagreatsurpriseawaitinghim.Finally thewagonarrived.Itmadenonoise,for itswheelswereboundwith
strawandrags.It was drawn by twelve pair of donkeys, all of the same size, but all of
differentcolor.Someweregray,otherswhite,andstillothersamixtureofbrownandblack.Hereandtherewereafewwithlargeyellowandbluestripes.Thestrangestthingofallwasthatthosetwenty-fourdonkeys,insteadofbeing
iron-shodlikeanyotherbeastofburden,hadontheirfeetlacedshoesmadeofleather,justliketheonesboyswear.Andthedriverofthewagon?Imagine toyourselvesa little, fatman,muchwider thanhewas long, round
andshinyasaballofbutter,witha facebeaming likeanapple,a littlemouththatalwayssmiled,andavoicesmallandwheedlinglike thatofacatbeggingforfood.No sooner did any boy see him than he fell in lovewith him, and nothing
satisfiedhimbuttobeallowedtorideinhiswagontothatlovelyplacecalledtheLandofToys.Infact thewagonwassocloselypackedwithboysofallagesthat it looked
likeaboxofsardines.Theywereuncomfortable,theywerepiledoneontopoftheother, theycouldhardlybreathe;yetnotonewordofcomplaintwasheard.Thethoughtthatinafewhourstheywouldreachacountrywheretherewerenoschools,nobooks,noteachers,madetheseboyssohappythattheyfeltneitherhunger,northirst,norsleep,nordiscomfort.NosoonerhadthewagonstoppedthanthelittlefatmanturnedtoLamp-Wick.
Withbowsandsmiles,heaskedinawheedlingtone:“Tellme,myfineboy,doyoualsowanttocometomywonderfulcountry?”“IndeedIdo.”“ButIwarnyou,mylittledear,there’snomoreroominthewagon.Itisfull.”“Nevermind,”answeredLamp-Wick.“Ifthere’snoroominside,Icansiton
thetopofthecoach.”
Andwithoneleap,heperchedhimselfthere.“What about you, my love?” asked the Little Man, turning politely to
Pinocchio.“Whatareyougoingtodo?Willyoucomewithus,ordoyoustayhere?”“Istayhere,”answeredPinocchio.“Iwanttoreturnhome,asIprefertostudy
andtosucceedinlife.”“Maythatbringyouluck!”“Pinocchio!”Lamp-Wickcalledout.“Listen tome.Comewithusandwe’ll
alwaysbehappy.”“No,no,no!”“Comewithusandwe’llalwaysbehappy,”criedfourothervoicesfromthe
wagon.“Come with us and we’ll always be happy,” shouted the one hundred and
moreboysinthewagon,alltogether.“AndifIgowithyou,whatwillmygoodFairysay?”asked theMarionette,whowasbeginning towaverandweaken inhisgoodresolutions.“Don’tworrysomuch.Onlythinkthatwearegoingtoalandwhereweshall
beallowedtomakealltheracketwelikefrommorningtillnight.”Pinocchio did not answer, but sighed deeply once—twice—a third time.
Finally,hesaid:“Makeroomforme.Iwanttogo,too!”“The seats are all filled,” answered the LittleMan, “but to show you how
muchIthinkofyou,takemyplaceascoachman.”“Andyou?”“I’llwalk.”“No,indeed.Icouldnotpermitsuchathing.Imuchpreferridingoneofthese
donkeys,”criedPinocchio.Nosoonersaidthandone.Heapproachedthefirstdonkeyandtriedtomount
it.ButthelittleanimalturnedsuddenlyandgavehimsuchaterriblekickinthestomachthatPinocchiowasthrowntothegroundandfellwithhislegsintheair.Atthisunlooked-forentertainment,thewholecompanyofrunawayslaughed
uproariously.Thelittlefatmandidnotlaugh.Hewentuptotherebelliousanimal,and,still
smiling,bentoverhimlovinglyandbitoffhalfofhisrightear.In themeantime,Pinocchio liftedhimselfupfromtheground,andwithone
leaplandedonthedonkey’sback.Theleapwassowelltakenthatall theboysshouted,“HurrahforPinocchio!”andclappedtheirhandsinheartyapplause.Suddenly the little donkey gave a kick with his two hind feet and, at this
unexpectedmove,thepoorMarionettefoundhimselfonceagainsprawlingrightinthemiddleoftheroad.Againtheboysshoutedwithlaughter.ButtheLittleMan,insteadoflaughing,
becamesolovingtowardthelittleanimalthat,withanotherkiss,hebitoffhalfofhisleftear.“Youcanmountnow,myboy,”hethensaidtoPinocchio.“Havenofear.That
donkey was worried about something, but I have spoken to him and now heseemsquietandreasonable.”Pinocchio mounted and the wagon started on its way. While the donkeys
gallopedalongthestonyroad,theMarionettefanciedheheardaveryquietvoicewhisperingtohim:“Poorsilly!Youhavedoneasyouwished.Butyouaregoingtobeasorryboy
beforeverylong.”Pinocchio,greatlyfrightened,lookedabouthimtoseewhencethewordshad
come,buthesawnoone.Thedonkeysgalloped,thewagonrolledonsmoothly,theboysslept(Lamp-Wicksnoredlikeadormouse)andthelittle,fatdriversangsleepilybetweenhisteeth.After amile or so, Pinocchio again heard the same faint voicewhispering:
“Remember,littlesimpleton!Boyswhostopstudyingandturntheirbacksuponbooksandschoolsand teachers inorder togiveall their time tononsenseandpleasure, sooneror latercome togrief.Oh,howwell Iknowthis!Howwell Icanproveittoyou!Adaywillcomewhenyouwillweepbitterly,evenasIamweepingnow—butitwillbetoolate!”Atthesewhisperedwords,theMarionettegrewmoreandmorefrightened.He
jumpedtotheground,ranuptothedonkeyonwhosebackhehadbeenriding,andtakinghisnoseinhishands,lookedathim.Thinkhowgreatwashissurprisewhenhesawthatthedonkeywasweeping—weepingjustlikeaboy!“Hey,Mr.Driver!”criedtheMarionette.“Doyouknowwhatstrangethingis
happeninghere!Thisdonkeyweeps.”“Lethimweep.Whenhegetsmarried,hewillhavetimetolaugh.”“Haveyouperhapstaughthimtospeak?”“No,helearnedtomumbleafewwordswhenhelivedforthreeyearswitha
bandoftraineddogs.”“Poorbeast!”“Come,come,”saidtheLittleMan,“donotlosetimeoveradonkeythatcan
weep.Mountquicklyandletusgo.Thenightiscoolandtheroadislong.”Pinocchio obeyed without another word. The wagon started again. Toward
dawn the nextmorning they finally reached thatmuch-longed-for country, theLandofToys.Thisgreat landwas entirelydifferent fromanyotherplace in theworld. Its
population,largethoughitwas,wascomposedwhollyofboys.Theoldestwereaboutfourteenyearsofage,theyoungest,eight.Inthestreet, therewassucharacket, such shouting, such blowing of trumpets, that it was deafening.Everywheregroupsofboysweregatheredtogether.Someplayedatmarbles,athopscotch,atball.Othersrodeonbicyclesoronwoodenhorses.Someplayedatblindman’s buff, others at tag.Here a group played circus, there another sangandrecited.Afew turnedsomersaults,otherswalkedon theirhandswith theirfeetintheair.Generalsinfulluniformleadingregimentsofcardboardsoldierspassed by. Laughter, shrieks, howls, catcalls, hand-clapping followed thisparade. One boy made a noise like a hen, another like a rooster, and a thirdimitatedalioninhisden.Alltogethertheycreatedsuchapandemoniumthatitwouldhavebeennecessaryforyoutoputcottoninyourears.Thesquareswerefilled with small wooden theaters, overflowing with boys from morning tillnight, and on thewalls of the houses, writtenwith charcoal, werewords likethese:HURRAHFORTHELANDOFTOYS!DOWNWITHARITHMETIC!NOMORESCHOOL!Assoonastheyhadsetfootinthatland,Pinocchio,Lamp-Wick,andallthe
other boyswho had traveledwith them started out on a tour of investigation.Theywanderedeverywhere,theylookedintoeverynookandcorner,houseandtheater.Theybecameeverybody’sfriend.Whocouldbehappierthanthey?Whatwithentertainmentsandparties, thehours, thedays, theweekspassed
likelightning.“Oh,whatabeautiful life this is!”saidPinocchioeachtimethat,bychance,
hemethisfriendLamp-Wick.“Was I right or wrong?” answered Lamp-Wick. “And to think you did not
want to come! To think that even yesterday the idea came into your head toreturnhometoseeyourFairyandtostartstudyingagain!Iftodayyouarefreefrompencilsandbooksandschool,youoweittome,tomyadvice,tomycare.Doyouadmitit?Onlytruefriendscount,afterall.”
“It’s true, Lamp-Wick, it’s true. If today I am a really happy boy, it is allbecauseofyou.Andtothinkthattheteacher,whenspeakingofyou,usedtosay,‘DonotgowiththatLamp-Wick!Heisabadcompanionandsomedayhewillleadyouastray.’”“Poor teacher!” answered the other, nodding his head. “Indeed I knowhow
much he dislikedme and how he enjoyed speaking ill of me. But I am of agenerousnature,andIgladlyforgivehim.”“Greatsoul!”saidPinocchio,fondlyembracinghisfriend.Fivemonthspassedandtheboyscontinuedplayingandenjoyingthemselves
frommorntillnight,withouteverseeingabook,oradesk,oraschool.But,mychildren, there came a morning when Pinocchio awoke and found a greatsurprise awaiting him, a surprise which made him feel very unhappy, as youshallsee.
CHAPTER32
Pinocchio’searsbecomelikethoseofaDonkey.InalittlewhilehechangesintoarealDonkeyandbeginstobray.Everyone,atone timeoranother,hasfoundsomesurpriseawaitinghim.Of
thekindwhichPinocchiohadonthateventfulmorningofhislife,therearebutfew.Whatwasit?Iwilltellyou,mydearlittlereaders.Onawakening,Pinocchio
puthishanduptohisheadandtherehefound—Guess!Hefoundthat,duringthenight,hisearshadgrownatleasttenfullinches!YoumustknowthattheMarionette,evenfromhisbirth,hadverysmallears,
sosmallindeedthattothenakedeyetheycouldhardlybeseen.Fancyhowhefeltwhenhenoticedthatovernightthosetwodaintyorganshadbecomeaslongasshoebrushes!Hewentinsearchofamirror,butnotfindingany,hejustfilledabasinwith
waterandlookedathimself.Therehesawwhathenevercouldhavewishedtosee.Hismanlyfigurewasadornedandenrichedbyabeautifulpairofdonkey’sears.I leaveyou to thinkof the terriblegrief, the shame, thedespair of thepoor
Marionette.Hebegantocry,toscream,toknockhisheadagainstthewall,butthemorehe
shrieked,thelongerandthemorehairygrewhisears.At those piercing shrieks, a Dormouse came into the room, a fat little
Dormouse,wholivedupstairs.SeeingPinocchiosogrief-stricken,sheaskedhimanxiously:“Whatisthematter,dearlittleneighbor?”“I amsick,my littleDormouse,very,very sick—and froman illnesswhich
frightensme!Doyouunderstandhowtofeelthepulse?”“Alittle.”“FeelminethenandtellmeifIhaveafever.”The Dormouse took Pinocchio’s wrist between her paws and, after a few
minutes, lookedup at him sorrowfully and said: “My friend, I am sorry, but I
mustgiveyousomeverysadnews.”“Whatisit?”“Youhaveaverybadfever.”“Butwhatfeverisit?”“Thedonkeyfever.”“Idon’tknowanythingaboutthatfever,”answeredtheMarionette,beginning
tounderstandeventoowellwhatwashappeningtohim.“ThenIwilltellyouallaboutit,”saidtheDormouse.“Knowthenthat,within
twoorthreehours,youwillnolongerbeaMarionette,noraboy.”“WhatshallIbe?”“Withintwoorthreehoursyouwillbecomearealdonkey,justliketheones
thatpullthefruitcartstomarket.”“Oh,whathaveIdone?WhathaveIdone?”criedPinocchio,graspinghistwo
long ears in his hands and pulling and tugging at themangrily, just as if theybelongedtoanother.“Mydear boy,” answered theDormouse to cheer himup abit, “whyworry
now?Whatisdonecannotbeundone,youknow.Fatehasdecreedthatalllazyboyswhocometohatebooksandschoolsandteachersandspendalltheirdayswithtoysandgamesmustsoonerorlaterturnintodonkeys.”“Butisitreallyso?”askedtheMarionette,sobbingbitterly.“Iamsorrytosayitis.Andtearsnowareuseless.Youshouldhavethoughtof
allthisbefore.”“Butthefaultisnotmine.Believeme,littleDormouse,thefaultisallLamp-
Wick’s.”“AndwhoisthisLamp-Wick?”“A classmate ofmine. Iwanted to return home. Iwanted to be obedient. I
wantedtostudyandtosucceedinschool,butLamp-Wicksaidtome,‘Whydoyouwanttowasteyourtimestudying?Whydoyouwanttogotoschool?ComewithmetotheLandofToys.Therewe’llneverstudyagain.Therewecanenjoyourselvesandbehappyfrommorntillnight.’”“Andwhydidyoufollowtheadviceofthatfalsefriend?”“Why? Because, my dear little Dormouse, I am a heedless Marionette—
heedlessandheartless.Oh!IfIhadonlyhadabitofheart,IshouldneverhaveabandonedthatgoodFairy,wholovedmesowellandwhohasbeensokindtome!Andbythistime,IshouldnolongerbeaMarionette.Ishouldhavebecome
arealboy,likeallthesefriendsofmine!Oh,ifImeetLamp-WickIamgoingtotellhimwhatIthinkofhim—andmore,too!”Afterthislongspeech,Pinocchiowalkedtothedooroftheroom.Butwhenhe
reached it, rememberinghisdonkeyears,he feltashamed toshowthemto thepublic and turnedback.He took a large cottonbag froma shelf, put it onhishead,andpulleditfardowntohisverynose.Thusadorned,hewentout.HelookedforLamp-Wickeverywhere,alongthe
streets, in the squares, inside the theatres, everywhere; but he was not to befound.Heaskedeveryonewhomhemetabouthim,butnoonehadseenhim.Indesperation,hereturnedhomeandknockedatthedoor.“Whoisit?”askedLamp-Wickfromwithin.“ItisI!”answeredtheMarionette.“Waitaminute.”After a full half hour thedooropened.Another surprise awaitedPinocchio!
Thereintheroomstoodhisfriend,withalargecottonbagonhishead,pulledfardowntohisverynose.Atthesightofthatbag,Pinocchiofeltslightlyhappierandthoughttohimself:“Myfriendmustbesufferingfromthesamesickness that Iam!Iwonder if
he,too,hasdonkeyfever?”Butpretendinghehadseennothing,heaskedwithasmile:“Howareyou,mydearLamp-Wick?”“Verywell.LikeamouseinaParmesancheese.”“Isthatreallytrue?”“WhyshouldIlietoyou?”“Ibegyourpardon,myfriend,butwhythenareyouwearingthatcottonbag
overyourears?”“The doctor has ordered it because one of my knees hurts. And you, dear
Marionette,whyareyouwearingthatcottonbagdowntoyournose?”“ThedoctorhasordereditbecauseIhavebruisedmyfoot.”“Oh,mypoorPinocchio!”“Oh,mypoorLamp-Wick!”Anembarrassinglylongsilencefollowedthesewords,duringwhichtimethe
twofriendslookedateachotherinamockingway.FinallytheMarionette,inavoicesweetashoneyandsoftasaflute,saidtohis
companion:“Tellme,Lamp-Wick,dearfriend,haveyoueversufferedfromanearache?”“Never!Andyou?”“Never!Still,sincethismorningmyearhasbeentorturingme.”“Sohasmine.”“Yours,too?Andwhichearisit?”“Bothofthem.Andyours?”“Bothofthem,too.Iwonderifitcouldbethesamesickness.”“I’mafraiditis.”“Willyoudomeafavor,Lamp-Wick?”“Gladly!Withmywholeheart.”“Willyouletmeseeyourears?”“Whynot?ButbeforeIshowyoumine,Iwanttoseeyours,dearPinocchio.”“No.Youmustshowyoursfirst.”“No,mydear!Yoursfirst,thenmine.”“Well,then,”saidtheMarionette,“letusmakeacontract.”“Let’shearthecontract!”“Letustakeoffourcapstogether.Allright?”“Allright.”“Readythen!”Pinocchiobegantocount,“One!Two!Three!”Attheword“Three!”thetwoboyspulledofftheircapsandthrewthemhigh
inair.Andthenascenetookplacewhichishardtobelieve,butitisalltootrue.The
Marionetteandhisfriend,Lamp-Wick,whentheysaweachotherbothstrickenbythesamemisfortune,insteadoffeelingsorrowfulandashamed,begantopokefun at each other, and after much nonsense, they ended by bursting out intoheartylaughter.They laughed and laughed, and laughed again—laughed till they ached—
laughedtilltheycried.ButallofasuddenLamp-Wickstoppedlaughing.Hetotteredandalmostfell.
Paleasaghost,heturnedtoPinocchioandsaid:“Help,help,Pinocchio!”
“Whatisthematter?”“Oh,helpme!Icannolongerstandup.”“I can’t either,” cried Pinocchio; and his laughter turned to tears as he
stumbledabouthelplessly.Theyhadhardly finished speaking,whenbothof them fell on all fours and
beganrunningandjumpingaroundtheroom.Astheyran,theirarmsturnedintolegs, their faces lengthened into snouts and their backs became covered withlonggrayhairs.Thiswashumiliation enough,but themosthorriblemomentwas theone in
which the twopoorcreatures felt their tailsappear.Overcomewithshameandgrief,theytriedtocryandbemoantheirfate.Butwhatisdonecan’tbeundone!Insteadofmoansandcries,theyburstforth
intolouddonkeybrays,whichsoundedverymuchlike,“Haw!Haw!Haw!”Atthatmoment,aloudknockingwasheardatthedoorandavoicecalledto
them:“Open!IamtheLittleMan,thedriverofthewagonwhichbroughtyouhere.
Open,Isay,orbeware!”
CHAPTER33
Pinocchio,havingbecomeaDonkey,isboughtbytheownerofaCircus,whowantstoteachhimtodotricks.TheDonkeybecomeslameandissoldtoamanwhowantstousehisskinforadrumhead.Very sad and downcast were the two poor little fellows as they stood and
looked at each other. Outside the room, the LittleMan grewmore and moreimpatient,andfinallygavethedoorsuchaviolentkickthatitflewopen.Withhis usual sweet smileonhis lips, he looked atPinocchio andLamp-Wick andsaidtothem:“Finework,boys!Youhavebrayedwell,sowellthatIrecognizedyourvoices
immediately,andhereIam.”Onhearingthis,thetwoDonkeysbowedtheirheadsinshame,droppedtheir
ears,andputtheirtailsbetweentheirlegs.At first, the LittleMan petted and caressed them and smoothed down their
hairycoats.Thenhetookoutacurrycombandworkedoverthemtilltheyshonelikeglass.Satisfiedwiththelooksofthetwolittleanimals,hebridledthemandtook them to amarket place far away from the Land of Toys, in the hope ofsellingthematagoodprice.Infact,hedidnothavetowaitverylongforanoffer.Lamp-Wickwasbought
byafarmerwhosedonkeyhaddiedthedaybefore.Pinocchiowenttotheownerofacircus,whowantedtoteachhimtodotricksforhisaudiences.And now do you understand what the Little Man’s profession was? This
horrid little being, whose face shone with kindness, went about the worldlooking for boys.Lazy boys, boyswhohated books, boyswhowanted to runawayfromhome,boyswhoweretiredofschool—allthesewerehisjoyandhisfortune. He took them with him to the Land of Toys and let them enjoythemselvestotheirheart’scontent.When,aftermonthsofallplayandnowork,theybecamelittledonkeys,hesoldthemonthemarketplace.Inafewyears,hehadbecomeamillionaire.WhathappenedtoLamp-Wick?Mydearchildren,Idonotknow.Pinocchio,I
cantellyou,metwithgreathardshipsevenfromthefirstday.Afterputtinghiminastable,hisnewmasterfilledhismangerwithstraw,but
Pinocchio,aftertastingamouthful,spatitout.
Thenthemanfilledthemangerwithhay.ButPinocchiodidnotlikethatanybetter.“Ah,youdon’t likehayeither?”hecriedangrily. “Wait,myprettyDonkey,
I’llteachyounottobesoparticular.”Withoutmoreado,hetookawhipandgavetheDonkeyaheartyblowacross
thelegs.Pinocchioscreamedwithpainandashescreamedhebrayed:“Haw!Haw!Haw!Ican’tdigeststraw!”“Then eat the hay!” answered his master, who understood the Donkey
perfectly.“Haw!Haw!Haw!Haygivesmeaheadache!”“Do you pretend, by any chance, that I should feed you duck or chicken?”
asked theman again, and, angrier than ever, he gave poor Pinocchio anotherlashing.Atthatsecondbeating,Pinocchiobecameveryquietandsaidnomore.Afterthat,thedoorofthestablewasclosedandhewasleftalone.Itwasmany
hours sincehehad eaten anything andhe started to yawn fromhunger.Asheyawned,heopenedamouthasbigasanoven.Finally, not finding anything else in the manger, he tasted the hay. After
tastingit,hecheweditwell,closedhiseyes,andswallowedit.“Thishayisnotbad,”hesaidtohimself.“ButhowmuchhappierIshouldbe
if Ihadstudied! Justnow, insteadofhay, I shouldbeeatingsomegoodbreadandbutter.Patience!”Nextmorning,whenheawoke,Pinocchiolookedinthemangerformorehay,
butitwasallgone.Hehadeatenitallduringthenight.He tried the straw, but, as he chewed away at it, he noticed to his great
disappointmentthatittastedneitherlikericenorlikemacaroni.“Patience!”herepeatedashechewed.“Ifonlymymisfortunemightserveasa
lessontodisobedientboyswhorefusetostudy!Patience!Havepatience!”“Patience indeed!” shouted hismaster just then, as he came into the stable.
“Doyouthink,perhaps,mylittleDonkey,thatIhavebroughtyouhereonlytogiveyoufoodanddrink?Oh,no!Youaretohelpmeearnsomefinegoldpieces,doyouhear?Comealong,now. I amgoing to teachyou to jumpandbow, todanceawaltzandapolka,andeventostandonyourhead.”PoorPinocchio,whether he liked it or not, had to learn all thesewonderful
things; but it took him three longmonths and cost himmany,many lashingsbeforehewaspronouncedperfect.The day came at last when Pinocchio’s master was able to announce an
extraordinaryperformance.Theannouncements,postedallaroundthetown,andwritteninlargeletters,readthus:GREATSPECTACLETONIGHT
LEAPSANDEXERCISESBYTHEGREATARTISTS
ANDTHEFAMOUSHORSES
ofthe
COMPANY
FirstPublicAppearance
ofthe
FAMOUSDONKEY
called
PINOCCHIO
THESTAROFTHEDANCE
——
TheTheaterwillbeasLightasDay
Thatnight,asyoucanwellimagine,thetheaterwasfilledtooverflowingonehourbeforetheshowwasscheduledtostart.Notanorchestrachaircouldbehad,notabalconyseat,noragalleryseat;not
evenfortheirweightingold.Theplace swarmedwithboysandgirlsof all agesand sizes,wrigglingand
dancingaboutinafeverofimpatiencetoseethefamousDonkeydance.Whenthefirstpartoftheperformancewasover,theOwnerandManagerof
the circus, in a black coat, white knee breeches, and patent leather boots,presentedhimselftothepublicandinaloud,pompousvoicemadethefollowingannouncement:“Mosthonoredfriends,GentlemenandLadies!“Your humble servant, theManager of this theater, presents himself before
youtonightinordertointroducetoyouthegreatest,themostfamousDonkeyintheworld,aDonkeythathashadthegreathonorinhisshortlifeofperformingbeforethekingsandqueensandemperorsofallthegreatcourtsofEurope.“Wethankyouforyourattention!”This speechwas greeted bymuch laughter and applause.And the applause
grewtoaroarwhenPinocchio,thefamousDonkey,appearedinthecircusring.Hewas handsomely arrayed. A new bridle of shining leatherwith buckles ofpolished brass was on his back; two white camellias were tied to his ears;
ribbonsandtasselsofredsilkadornedhismane,whichwasdividedintomanycurls.Agreatsashofgoldandsilverwasfastenedaroundhiswaistandhistailwas decorated with ribbons of many brilliant colors. He was a handsomeDonkeyindeed!TheManager,whenintroducinghimtothepublic,addedthesewords:“Mosthonoredaudience!Ishallnottakeyourtimetonighttotellyouofthe
great difficulties which I have encountered while trying to tame this animal,sinceIfoundhiminthewildsofAfrica.Observe,Ibegofyou,thesavagelookof his eye. All the means used by centuries of civilization in subduing wildbeastsfailedinthiscase.Ihadfinallytoresorttothegentlelanguageofthewhipin order to bring him to my will. With all my kindness, however, I neversucceededingainingmyDonkey’slove.HeisstilltodayassavageasthedayIfound him. He still fears and hates me. But I have found in him one greatredeemingfeature.Doyouseethislittlebumponhisforehead?Itisthisbumpwhich gives himhis great talent of dancing and using his feet as nimbly as ahumanbeing.Admirehim,Osignori,andenjoyyourselves. I letyou,now,bethejudgesofmysuccessasateacherofanimals.BeforeIleaveyou,Iwishtostate that there will be another performance tomorrow night. If the weatherthreatens rain, the great spectacle will take place at eleven o’clock in themorning.”The Manager bowed and then turned to Pinocchio and said: “Ready,
Pinocchio!Beforestartingyourperformance,saluteyouraudience!”Pinocchioobedientlybenthistwokneestothegroundandremainedkneeling
untiltheManager,withthecrackofthewhip,criedsharply:“Walk!”TheDonkeyliftedhimselfonhisfourfeetandwalkedaroundthering.Afew
minutespassedandagainthevoiceoftheManagercalled:“Quickstep!”andPinocchioobedientlychangedhisstep.“Gallop!”andPinocchiogalloped.“Full speed!” and Pinocchio ran as fast as he could. As he ran the master
raisedhisarmandapistolshotrangintheair.Attheshot,thelittleDonkeyfelltothegroundasifhewerereallydead.Ashowerof applausegreeted theDonkeyashe arose tohis feet.Cries and
shoutsandhandclappingswereheardonallsides.Atallthatnoise,Pinocchioliftedhisheadandraisedhiseyes.There,infront
ofhim,inaboxsatabeautifulwoman.Aroundhernecksheworealonggoldchain, fromwhich hung a largemedallion. On themedallionwas painted the
pictureofaMarionette.“That picture is ofme!That beautiful lady ismyFairy!” said Pinocchio to
himself,recognizingher.Hefeltsohappythathetriedhisbesttocryout:“Oh,myFairy!MyownFairy!”Butinsteadofwords,aloudbrayingwasheardinthetheater,soloudandso
long that all the spectators—men, women, and children, but especially thechildren—burstoutlaughing.Then, in order to teach the Donkey that it was not good manners to bray
beforethepublic,theManagerhithimonthenosewiththehandleofthewhip.ThepoorlittleDonkeystuckoutalongtongueandlickedhisnoseforalong
timeinanefforttotakeawaythepain.Andwhatwashisgriefwhenonlookinguptowardtheboxes,hesawthatthe
Fairyhaddisappeared!Hefelthimselffainting,hiseyesfilledwithtears,andheweptbitterly.Noone
knewit,however,leastofalltheManager,who,crackinghiswhip,criedout:“Bravo,Pinocchio!Nowshowushowgracefullyyoucan jump through the
rings.”Pinocchio tried twoor three times, but each timehe camenear the ring, he
found itmore to his taste to go under it. The fourth time, at a look from hismasterheleapedthroughit,butashedidsohishindlegscaughtintheringandhefelltothefloorinaheap.Whenhegotup,hewaslameandcouldhardlylimpasfarasthestable.“Pinocchio!WewantPinocchio!Wewant thelittleDonkey!”criedtheboys
fromtheorchestra,saddenedbytheaccident.NoonesawPinocchioagainthatevening.Thenextmorningtheveterinary—thatis,theanimaldoctor—declaredthathe
wouldbelamefortherestofhislife.“What do Iwantwith a lame donkey?” said theManager to the stableboy.
“Takehimtothemarketandsellhim.”Whentheyreachedthesquare,abuyerwassoonfound.“HowmuchdoyouaskforthatlittlelameDonkey?”heasked.“Fourdollars.”“I’llgiveyoufourcents.Don’tthinkI’mbuyinghimforwork.Iwantonlyhis
skin.ItlooksverytoughandIcanuseittomakemyselfadrumhead.IbelongtoamusicalbandinmyvillageandIneedadrum.”
I leave it to you,mydear children, to picture to yourself thegreat pleasurewithwhichPinocchioheardthathewastobecomeadrumhead!Assoonasthebuyerhadpaidthefourcents,theDonkeychangedhands.His
newownertookhimtoahighcliffoverlookingthesea,putastonearoundhisneck,tiedaropetooneofhishindfeet,gavehimapush,andthrewhimintothewater.Pinocchiosankimmediately.Andhisnewmastersatonthecliffwaitingfor
himtodrown,soastoskinhimandmakehimselfadrumhead.
CHAPTER34
Pinocchio is throwninto thesea,eatenbyfishes,andbecomesaMarionetteoncemore.Asheswimstoland,heisswallowedbytheTerribleShark.Downintothesea,deeperanddeeper,sankPinocchio,andfinally,afterfifty
minutesofwaiting,themanonthecliffsaidtohimself:“BythistimemypoorlittlelameDonkeymustbedrowned.Upwithhimand
thenIcangettoworkonmybeautifuldrum.”Hepulled the ropewhichhehad tied toPinocchio’s leg—pulledandpulled
and pulled and, at last, he saw appear on the surface of the water—Can youguesswhat? Instead of a dead donkey, he saw a verymuch aliveMarionette,wrigglingandsquirminglikeaneel.Seeing thatwoodenMarionette, thepoorman thoughthewasdreamingand
sattherewithhismouthwideopenandhiseyespoppingoutofhishead.Gatheringhiswitstogether,hesaid:“AndtheDonkeyIthrewintothesea?”“IamthatDonkey,”answeredtheMarionettelaughing.“You?”“I.”“Ah,youlittlecheat!Areyoupokingfunatme?”“Pokingfunatyou?Notatall,dearMaster.Iamtalkingseriously.”“But,then,howisitthatyou,whoafewminutesagowereadonkey,arenow
standingbeforemeawoodenMarionette?”“Itmaybetheeffectofsaltwater.Theseaisfondofplayingthesetricks.”“Becareful,Marionette, be careful!Don’t laughatme!Woebe toyou, if I
losemypatience!”“Well,then,myMaster,doyouwanttoknowmywholestory?Untiemyleg
andIcantellittoyoubetter.”The old fellow, curious to know the true story of the Marionette’s life,
immediatelyuntiedtheropewhichheldhisfoot.Pinocchio,feelingfreeasabirdoftheair,beganhistale:“Know,then,that,onceuponatime,IwasawoodenMarionette,justasIam
today.OnedayIwasabouttobecomeaboy,arealboy,butonaccountofmylazinessandmyhatredofbooks,andbecauseIlistenedtobadcompanions,Iranawayfromhome.Onebeautifulmorning,Iawoketofindmyselfchangedintoadonkey—longears,graycoat,evenatail!Whatashamefuldayforme!Ihopeyouwill never experienceone like it, dearMaster. Iwas taken to the fair andsoldtoaCircusOwner,whotriedtomakemedanceandjumpthroughtherings.One night, during a performance, I had a bad fall and became lame. Notknowingwhattodowithalamedonkey,theCircusOwnersentmetothemarketplaceandyouboughtme.”“IndeedIdid!AndIpaidfourcentsforyou.Nowwhowillreturnmymoney
tome?”“Butwhydidyoubuyme?Youboughtme todomeharm—tokillme—to
makeadrumheadoutofme!”“IndeedIdid!AndnowwhereshallIfindanotherskin?”“Nevermind,dearMaster.Therearesomanydonkeysinthisworld.”“Tellme,impudentlittlerogue,doesyourstoryendhere?”“Onemoreword,”answeredtheMarionette,“andIamthrough.Afterbuying
me,youbroughtmeheretokillme.Butfeelingsorryforme,youtiedastonetomyneckandthrewmetothebottomofthesea.ThatwasverygoodandkindofyoutowantmetosufferaslittleaspossibleandIshallrememberyoualways.AndnowmyFairywilltakecareofme,evenifyou—”“YourFairy?Whoisshe?”“She ismymother, and, like all othermotherswho love their children, she
never loses sightofme, even though Idonotdeserve it.And today thisgoodFairyofmine, as soonas she sawme indangerofdrowning, sent a thousandfishes to the spot where I lay. They thought I was really a dead donkey andbegantoeatme.Whatgreatbitestheytook!Oneatemyears,anothermynose,athirdmyneckandmymane.Somewentatmylegsandsomeatmyback,andamongtheothers,therewasonetinyfishsogentleandpolitethathedidmethegreatfavorofeatingevenmytail.”“Fromnowon,”saidtheman,horrified,“IswearIshallneveragaintastefish.
HowIshouldenjoyopeningamulletorawhitefishjusttofindtherethetailofadeaddonkey!”“Ithinkasyoudo,”answeredtheMarionette,laughing.“Still,youmustknow
thatwhenthefishfinishedeatingmydonkeycoat,whichcoveredmefromheadtofoot,theynaturallycametothebones—orrather,inmycase,tothewood,for
as you know, I am made of very hard wood. After the first few bites, thosegreedyfishfoundoutthatthewoodwasnotgoodfortheirteeth,and,afraidofindigestion,theyturnedandranhereandtherewithoutsayinggood-byorevenasmuchasthankyoutome.Here,dearMaster,youhavemystory.Youknownowwhyyou foundaMarionetteandnotadeaddonkeywhenyoupulledmeoutofthewater.”“Ilaughatyourstory!”criedthemanangrily.“IknowthatIspentfourcents
togetyouandIwantmymoneyback.DoyouknowwhatIcando;Iamgoingtotakeyoutothemarketoncemoreandsellyouasdryfirewood.”“Verywell,sellme.Iamsatisfied,”saidPinocchio.Butashespoke,hegavea
quickleapanddivedintothesea.Swimmingawayasfastashecould,hecriedout,laughing:“Good-by,Master.Ifyoueverneedaskinforyourdrum,rememberme.”Heswamonandon.Afterawhile,heturnedaroundagainandcalledlouder
thanbefore:“Good-by,Master.Ifyoueverneedapieceofgooddryfirewood,remember
me.”Inafewsecondshehadgonesofarhecouldhardlybeseen.Allthatcouldbe
seenofhimwasaverysmallblackdotmovingswiftlyonthebluesurfaceofthewater,alittleblackdotwhichnowandthenliftedalegoranarmintheair.OnewouldhavethoughtthatPinocchiohadturnedintoaporpoiseplayinginthesun.Afterswimmingforalongtime,Pinocchiosawalargerockinthemiddleof
thesea,arockaswhiteasmarble.HighontherockstoodalittleGoatbleatingandcallingandbeckoningtotheMarionettetocometoher.There was something very strange about that little Goat. Her coat was not
whiteorblackorbrownasthatofanyothergoat,butazure,adeepbrilliantcolorthatremindedoneofthehairofthelovelymaiden.Pinocchio’sheartbeatfast,andthenfasterandfaster.Heredoubledhisefforts
and swamas hard as he could toward thewhite rock.Hewas almost halfwayover,whensuddenlyahorribleseamonsterstuck itsheadoutof thewater,anenormousheadwithahugemouth,wideopen,showingthreerowsofgleamingteeth,themeresightofwhichwouldhavefilledyouwithfear.Doyouknowwhatitwas?ThatseamonsterwasnootherthantheenormousShark,whichhasoftenbeen
mentionedinthisstoryandwhich,onaccountofitscruelty,hadbeennicknamed“TheAttilaoftheSea”bybothfishandfishermen.
PoorPinocchio!Thesightofthatmonsterfrightenedhimalmosttodeath!Hetried toswimaway fromhim, tochangehispath, toescape,but that immensemouthkeptcomingnearerandnearer.“Hasten,Pinocchio,Ibegyou!”bleatedthelittleGoatonthehighrock.AndPinocchioswamdesperatelywithhisarms,hisbody,hislegs,hisfeet.“Quick,Pinocchio,themonsteriscomingnearer!”Pinocchioswamfasterandfaster,andharderandharder.“Faster,Pinocchio!Themonsterwillgetyou!Thereheis!Thereheis!Quick,
quick,oryouarelost!”Pinocchiowent through thewater likeashot—swifterandswifter.Hecame
closetotherock.TheGoatleanedoverandgavehimoneofherhoofstohelphimupoutofthewater.Alas! It was too late. Themonster overtook him and theMarionette found
himself in between the rows of gleaming white teeth. Only for a moment,however,for theSharktookadeepbreathand,ashebreathed,hedrankintheMarionetteaseasilyashewouldhavesuckedanegg.ThenheswallowedhimsofastthatPinocchio,fallingdownintothebodyofthefish,laystunnedforahalfhour.Whenhe recoveredhis senses theMarionettecouldnot rememberwherehe
was.Aroundhimallwasdarkness, adarkness sodeepand soblack that for amomenthe thoughthehadputhishead intoan inkwell.He listened fora fewmomentsandheardnothing.Onceinawhileacoldwindblewonhisface.Atfirsthecouldnotunderstandwherethatwindwascomingfrom,butafterawhileheunderstoodthatitcamefromthelungsofthemonster.Iforgottotellyouthatthe Shark was suffering from asthma, so that whenever he breathed a stormseemedtoblow.Pinocchioatfirsttriedtobebrave,butassoonashebecameconvincedthathe
wasreallyandtrulyintheShark’sstomach,heburstintosobsandtears.“Help!Help!”hecried.“Oh,poorme!Won’tsomeonecometosaveme?”“Whoistheretohelpyou,unhappyboy?”saidaroughvoice,likeaguitarout
oftune.“Whoistalking?”askedPinocchio,frozenwithterror.“It isI,apoorTunnyswallowedbytheSharkat thesametimeasyou.And
whatkindofafishareyou?”“Ihavenothingtodowithfishes.IamaMarionette.”“Ifyouarenotafish,whydidyouletthismonsterswallowyou?”
“Ididn’t lethim.Hechasedmeandswallowedmewithoutevena ‘byyourleave’!Andnowwhatarewetodohereinthedark?”“WaituntiltheSharkhasdigestedusboth,Isuppose.”“ButIdon’twanttobedigested,”shoutedPinocchio,startingtosob.“NeitherdoI,”saidtheTunny,“butIamwiseenoughtothinkthatifoneis
bornafish,itismoredignifiedtodieunderthewaterthaninthefryingpan.”“Whatnonsense!”criedPinocchio.“Mineisanopinion,”repliedtheTunny,“andopinionsshouldberespected.”“ButIwanttogetoutofthisplace.Iwanttoescape.”“Go,ifyoucan!”“IsthisSharkthathasswallowedusverylong?”askedtheMarionette.“Hisbody,notcountingthetail,isalmostamilelong.”While talking in thedarkness,Pinocchio thoughthe sawa faint light in the
distance.“Whatcanthatbe?”hesaidtotheTunny.“Someotherpoorfish,waitingaspatientlyaswetobedigestedbytheShark.”“I want to see him. He may be an old fish and may know some way of
escape.”“Iwishyouallgoodluck,dearMarionette.”“Good-by,Tunny.”“Good-by,Marionette,andgoodluck.”“WhenshallIseeyouagain?”“Whoknows?Itisbetternottothinkaboutit.”
CHAPTER35
In theShark’sbodyPinocchio findswhom?Read this chapter,mychildren,andyouwillknow.Pinocchio, as soon as he had said good-by to his good friend, the Tunny,
totteredawayinthedarknessandbegantowalkaswellashecouldtowardthefaintlightwhichglowedinthedistance.Ashewalkedhisfeetsplashedinapoolofgreasyandslipperywater,which
hadsuchaheavysmelloffishfriedinoilthatPinocchiothoughtitwasLent.Thefartheronhewent,thebrighterandclearergrewthetinylight.Onandon
he walked till finally he found—I give you a thousand guesses, my dearchildren!Hefoundalittletablesetfordinnerandlightedbyacandlestuckinaglassbottle;andnearthetablesatalittleoldman,whiteasthesnow,eatinglivefish.Theywriggledsothat,nowandagain,oneof themslippedoutof theoldman’smouthandescapedintothedarknessunderthetable.At this sight, the poor Marionette was filled with such great and sudden
happiness thathealmostdropped ina faint.Hewanted to laugh,hewanted tocry,hewantedtosayathousandandonethings,butallhecoulddowastostandstill,stutteringandstammeringbrokenly.Atlast,withagreateffort,hewasabletoletoutascreamofjoyand,openingwidehisarmshethrewthemaroundtheoldman’sneck.“Oh,Father,dearFather!HaveIfoundyouatlast?NowIshallnever,never
leaveyouagain!”“Aremyeyesreallytellingmethetruth?”answeredtheoldman,rubbinghis
eyes.“AreyoureallymyowndearPinocchio?”“Yes,yes,yes!ItisI!Lookatme!Andyouhaveforgivenme,haven’tyou?
Oh,mydearFather,howgoodyouare!AndtothinkthatI—Oh,butifyouonlyknewhowmanymisfortuneshavefallenonmyheadandhowmanytroublesIhavehad!JustthinkthatonthedayyousoldyouroldcoattobuymemyA-B-CbooksothatIcouldgotoschool,IranawaytotheMarionetteTheaterandtheproprietorcaughtmeandwantedtoburnmetocookhisroastlamb!Hewastheonewhogaveme the fivegoldpieces foryou,but Imet theFoxand theCat,whotookmetotheInnoftheRedLobster.TheretheyatelikewolvesandIlefttheInnaloneandImettheAssassinsinthewood.Iranandtheyranafterme,
alwaysafterme,tilltheyhangedmetothebranchofagiantoaktree.ThentheFairy of the Azure Hair sent the coach to rescue me and the doctors, afterlookingatme,said,‘Ifheisnotdead,thenheissurelyalive,’andthenItoldalieandmynosebegantogrow.Itgrewanditgrew,tillIcouldn’tgetitthroughthedooroftheroom.AndthenIwentwiththeFoxandtheCattotheFieldofWonderstoburythegoldpieces.TheParrotlaughedatmeand,insteadoftwothousandgoldpieces,Ifoundnone.WhentheJudgeheardIhadbeenrobbed,hesentmeto jail tomakethe thieveshappy;andwhenIcameawayIsawafinebunchof grapes hanging on a vine.The trap caughtme and theFarmer put acollar onme andmademe awatchdog.He found out Iwas innocentwhen Icaught theWeasels and he let me go. The Serpent with the tail that smokedstartedtolaughandaveininhischestbrokeandsoIwentbacktotheFairy’shouse.Shewasdead,andthePigeon,seeingmecrying,saidtome,‘IhaveseenyourfatherbuildingaboattolookforyouinAmerica,’andIsaidtohim,‘Oh,ifIonlyhadwings!’andhesaidtome,‘Doyouwanttogotoyourfather?’andIsaid,‘Perhaps,buthow?’andhesaid,‘Getonmyback.I’lltakeyouthere.’Weflewallnightlong,andnextmorningthefishermenwerelookingtowardthesea,crying,‘Thereisapoorlittlemandrowning,’andIknewitwasyou,becausemyhearttoldmesoandIwavedtoyoufromtheshore—”“Iknewyoualso,”putinGeppetto,“andIwantedtogotoyou;buthowcould
I? The seawas rough and thewhitecaps overturned the boat. Then a TerribleShark came up out of the sea and, as soon as he sawme in thewater, swamquickly towardme,putouthis tongue,andswallowedmeaseasilyas if Ihadbeenachocolatepeppermint.”“Andhowlonghaveyoubeenshutawayinhere?”“From that day to this, two long weary years—two years, my Pinocchio,
whichhavebeenliketwocenturies.”“Andhowhaveyoulived?Wheredidyoufindthecandle?Andthematches
withwhichtolightit—wheredidyougetthem?”“Youmustknowthat,inthestormwhichswampedmyboat,alargeshipalso
sufferedthesamefate.Thesailorswereallsaved,buttheshipwentrighttothebottomof the sea, and the sameTerribleShark that swallowedme, swallowedmostofit.”“What!Swallowedaship?”askedPinocchioinastonishment.“Atonegulp.Theonlythinghespatoutwasthemain-mast,foritstuckinhis
teeth.Tomyowngood luck, thatshipwas loadedwithmeat,preservedfoods,crackers,bread,bottlesofwine,raisins,cheese,coffee,sugar,waxcandles,and
boxesofmatches.Withall theseblessings,Ihavebeenable to livehappilyonfor two whole years, but now I am at the very last crumbs. Today there isnothingleftinthecupboard,andthiscandleyouseehereisthelastoneIhave.”“Andthen?”“Andthen,mydear,we’llfindourselvesindarkness.”“Then,mydearFather,”saidPinocchio,“thereisnotimetolose.Wemusttry
toescape.”“Escape!How?”“WecanrunoutoftheShark’smouthanddiveintothesea.”“Youspeakwell,butIcannotswim,mydearPinocchio.”“Whyshould thatmatter?Youcanclimbonmyshouldersand I,whoama
fineswimmer,willcarryyousafelytotheshore.”“Dreams,myboy!”answeredGeppetto, shakinghisheadandsmilingsadly.
“DoyouthinkitpossibleforaMarionette,ayardhigh,tohavethestrengthtocarrymeonhisshouldersandswim?”“Tryitandsee!Andinanycase,ifitiswrittenthatwemustdie,weshallat
leastdietogether.”Not adding anotherword, Pinocchio took the candle in his hand and going
aheadtolighttheway,hesaidtohisfather:“Followmeandhavenofear.”Theywalkedalongdistancethroughthestomachandthewholebodyofthe
Shark.Whentheyreachedthethroatofthemonster,theystoppedforawhiletowaitfortherightmomentinwhichtomaketheirescape.IwantyoutoknowthattheShark,beingveryoldandsufferingfromasthma
and heart trouble,was obliged to sleepwith hismouth open.Because of this,Pinocchiowasabletocatchaglimpseoftheskyfilledwithstars,ashelookedupthroughtheopenjawsofhisnewhome.“The time has come for us to escape,” he whispered, turning to his father.
“The Shark is fast asleep. The sea is calm and the night is as bright as day.Followmeclosely,dearFather,andweshallsoonbesaved.”Nosoonersaidthandone.Theyclimbedupthethroatofthemonstertillthey
cametothatimmenseopenmouth.Theretheyhadtowalkontiptoes,foriftheytickled the Shark’s long tongue he might awaken—and where would they bethen?Thetonguewassowideandsolongthatitlookedlikeacountryroad.ThetwofugitiveswerejustabouttodiveintotheseawhentheSharksneezedvery
suddenly and, as he sneezed, he gavePinocchio andGeppetto such a jolt thatthey found themselves thrown on their backs and dashed oncemore and veryunceremoniouslyintothestomachofthemonster.Tomakemattersworse,thecandlewentoutandfatherandsonwereleftinthe
dark.“Andnow?”askedPinocchiowithaseriousface.“Nowwearelost.”“Whylost?Givemeyourhand,dearFather,andbecarefulnottoslip!”“Wherewillyoutakeme?”“Wemusttryagain.Comewithmeanddon’tbeafraid.”WiththesewordsPinocchiotookhisfatherbythehandand,alwayswalking
on tiptoes, they climbedup themonster’s throat for a second time.They thencrossedthewholetongueandjumpedoverthreerowsofteeth.Butbeforetheytookthelastgreatleap,theMarionettesaidtohisfather:“Climb on my back and hold on tightly to my neck. I’ll take care of
everythingelse.”AssoonasGeppettowascomfortablyseatedonhisshoulders,Pinocchio,very
sureofwhathewasdoing,divedintothewaterandstartedtoswim.Theseawaslike oil, themoon shone in all splendor, and the Shark continued to sleep sosoundlythatnotevenacannonshotwouldhaveawakenedhim.
CHAPTER36
PinocchiofinallyceasestobeaMarionetteandbecomesaboy
“MydearFather,wearesaved!”criedtheMarionette.“Allwehavetodonowistogettotheshore,andthatiseasy.”Without another word, he swam swiftly away in an effort to reach land as
soonaspossible.AllatoncehenoticedthatGeppettowasshiveringandshakingasifwithahighfever.Was he shivering from fear or from cold?Who knows? Perhaps a little of
both.ButPinocchio,thinkinghisfatherwasfrightened,triedtocomforthimbysaying:“Courage,Father!Inafewmomentsweshallbesafeonland.”“Butwhere is that blessed shore?” asked the little oldman,more andmore
worriedashetriedtopiercethefarawayshadows.“HereIamsearchingonallsidesandIseenothingbutseaandsky.”“Iseetheshore,”saidtheMarionette.“Remember,Father,thatIamlikeacat.
Iseebetteratnightthanbyday.”PoorPinocchiopretendedtobepeacefulandcontented,buthewasfar from
that.Hewasbeginningtofeeldiscouraged,hisstrengthwasleavinghim,andhisbreathing was becomingmore andmore labored. He felt he could not go onmuchlonger,andtheshorewasstillfaraway.He swam a few more strokes. Then he turned to Geppetto and cried out
weakly:“Helpme,Father!Help,forIamdying!”Father and sonwere really about to drownwhen they heard a voice like a
guitaroutoftunecallfromthesea:“Whatisthetrouble?”“ItisIandmypoorfather.”“Iknowthevoice.YouarePinocchio.”“Exactly.Andyou?”“IamtheTunny,yourcompanionintheShark’sstomach.”“Andhowdidyouescape?”
“Iimitatedyourexample.Youaretheonewhoshowedmethewayandafteryouwent,Ifollowed.”“Tunny,youarrivedattherightmoment!Iimploreyou,fortheloveyoubear
yourchildren,thelittleTunnies,tohelpus,orwearelost!”“Withgreatpleasureindeed.Hangontomytail,bothofyou,andletmelead
you.Inatwinklingyouwillbesafeonland.”Geppetto and Pinocchio, as you can easily imagine, did not refuse the
invitation;indeed,insteadofhangingontothetail,theythoughtitbettertoclimbontheTunny’sback.“Arewetooheavy?”askedPinocchio.“Heavy?Notintheleast.Youareaslightassea-shells,”answeredtheTunny,
whowasaslargeasatwo-year-oldhorse.As soon as they reached the shore, Pinocchio was the first to jump to the
groundtohelphisoldfather.Thenheturnedtothefishandsaidtohim:“Dear friend, youhave savedmy father, and I havenot enoughwordswith
whichtothankyou!Allowmetoembraceyouasasignofmyeternalgratitude.”TheTunnystuckhisnoseoutofthewaterandPinocchiokneltonthesandand
kissed himmost affectionately on his cheek. At this warm greeting, the poorTunny, who was not used to such tenderness, wept like a child. He felt soembarrassed and ashamed that he turned quickly, plunged into the sea, anddisappeared.Inthemeantimedayhaddawned.Pinocchio offered his arm to Geppetto, who was so weak he could hardly
stand,andsaidtohim:“Leanonmyarm,dearFather,andletusgo.Wewillwalkvery,veryslowly,
andifwefeeltiredwecanrestbythewayside.”“Andwherearewegoing?”askedGeppetto.“Tolookforahouseorahut,wheretheywillbekindenoughtogiveusabite
ofbreadandabitofstrawtosleepon.”They had not taken a hundred steps when they saw two rough-looking
individualssittingonastonebeggingforalms.ItwastheFoxandtheCat,butonecouldhardlyrecognizethem,theylooked
somiserable.TheCat,afterpretendingtobeblindforsomanyyearshadreallylostthesightofbotheyes.AndtheFox,old,thin,andalmosthairless,hadevenlosthis tail.Thatsly thiefhadfallen intodeepestpoverty,andonedayhehad
beenforcedtosellhisbeautifultailforabitetoeat.“Oh,Pinocchio,”hecriedinatearfulvoice.“Giveussomealms,webegof
you!Weareold,tired,andsick.”“Sick!”repeatedtheCat.“Addio,falsefriends!”answeredtheMarionette.“Youcheatedmeonce,but
youwillnevercatchmeagain.”“Believeus!Todaywearetrulypoorandstarving.”“Starving!”repeatedtheCat.“If you are poor; you deserve it! Remember the old proverb which says:
‘Stolenmoneyneverbearsfruit.’Addio,falsefriends.”“Havemercyonus!”“Onus.”“Addio, false friends. Remember the old proverb which says: ‘Bad wheat
alwaysmakespoorbread!’”“Donotabandonus.”“Abandonus,”repeatedtheCat.“Addio, false friends. Remember the old proverb: ‘Whoever steals his
neighbor’sshirt,usuallydieswithouthisown.’”Wavinggood-bytothem,PinocchioandGeppettocalmlywentontheirway.
Afterafewmoresteps,theysaw,attheendofalongroadnearaclumpoftrees,atinycottagebuiltofstraw.“Someone must live in that little hut,” said Pinocchio. “Let us see for
ourselves.”Theywentandknockedatthedoor.“Whoisit?”saidalittlevoicefromwithin.“A poor father and a poorer son, without food and with no roof to cover
them,”answeredtheMarionette.“Turnthekeyandthedoorwillopen,”saidthesamelittlevoice.Pinocchioturnedthekeyandthedooropened.Assoonastheywentin,they
lookedhereandthereandeverywherebutsawnoone.“Oh—ho, where is the owner of the hut?” cried Pinocchio, very much
surprised.“HereIam,uphere!”Fatherandsonlookeduptotheceiling,andthereonabeamsattheTalking
Cricket.“Oh,mydearCricket,”saidPinocchio,bowingpolitely.“Oh, now you call me your dear Cricket, but do you remember when you
threwyourhammeratmetokillme?”“Youare right, dearCricket.Throwahammer atmenow. I deserve it!But
sparemypooroldfather.”“Iamgoingtospareboththefatherandtheson.Ihaveonlywantedtoremind
youofthetrickyoulongagoplayeduponme,toteachyouthatinthisworldofourswemustbekindandcourteoustoothers, ifwewanttofindkindnessandcourtesyinourowndaysoftrouble.”“Youare right, littleCricket,youaremore than right, and I shall remember
thelessonyouhavetaughtme.Butwillyoutellhowyousucceededinbuyingthisprettylittlecottage?”“ThiscottagewasgiventomeyesterdaybyalittleGoatwithbluehair.”“AndwheredidtheGoatgo?”askedPinocchio.“Idon’tknow.”“Andwhenwillshecomeback?”“Shewill never comeback.Yesterday shewent away bleating sadly, and it
seemedtomeshesaid:‘PoorPinocchio,Ishallneverseehimagain...theSharkmusthaveeatenhimbythistime.’”“Werethoseherrealwords?Thenitwasshe—itwas—mydearlittleFairy,”
criedoutPinocchio, sobbingbitterly.Afterhehadcrieda long time,hewipedhiseyesandthenhemadeabedofstrawforoldGeppetto.HelaidhimonitandsaidtotheTalkingCricket:“Tellme,littleCricket,whereshallIfindaglassofmilkformypoorFather?”“ThreefieldsawayfromherelivesFarmerJohn.Hehassomecows.Gothere
andhewillgiveyouwhatyouwant.”PinocchioranallthewaytoFarmerJohn’shouse.TheFarmersaidtohim:“Howmuchmilkdoyouwant?”“Iwantafullglass.”“Afullglasscostsapenny.Firstgivemethepenny.”“Ihavenopenny,”answeredPinocchio,sadandashamed.“Verybad,myMarionette,”answeredtheFarmer,“verybad.Ifyouhaveno
penny,Ihavenomilk.”
“Toobad,”saidPinocchioandstartedtogo.“Waitamoment,”saidFarmerJohn.“Perhapswecancometoterms.Doyou
knowhowtodrawwaterfromawell?”“Icantry.”“Then go to that well you see yonder and draw one hundred bucketfuls of
water.”“Verywell.”“Afteryouhavefinished,Ishallgiveyouaglassofwarmsweetmilk.”“Iamsatisfied.”FarmerJohntooktheMarionettetothewellandshowedhimhowtodrawthe
water. Pinocchio set towork aswell as he knewhow, but long before he hadpulled up the one hundred buckets, he was tired out and dripping withperspiration.Hehadneverworkedsohardinhislife.“Until today,”saidtheFarmer,“mydonkeyhasdrawnthewaterforme,but
nowthatpooranimalisdying.”“Willyoutakemetoseehim?”saidPinocchio.“Gladly.”AssoonasPinocchiowentintothestable,hespiedalittleDonkeylyingona
bedofstrawinthecornerofthestable.Hewaswornoutfromhungerandtoomuchwork.After lookingathima longtime,hesaid tohimself:“IknowthatDonkey!Ihaveseenhimbefore.”Andbendinglowoverhim,heasked:“Whoareyou?”At thisquestion, theDonkeyopenedweary,dyingeyesandanswered in the
sametongue:“IamLamp-Wick.”Thenheclosedhiseyesanddied.“Oh,mypoorLamp-Wick,”saidPinocchio inafaintvoice,ashewipedhis
eyeswithsomestrawhehadpickedupfromtheground.“Doyoufeelsosorryforalittledonkeythathascostyounothing?”saidthe
Farmer.“WhatshouldIdo—I,whohavepaidmygoodmoneyforhim?”“But,yousee,hewasmyfriend.”“Yourfriend?”“Aclassmateofmine.”“What,” shouted Farmer John, bursting out laughing. “What! You had
donkeysinyourschool?Howyoumusthavestudied!”
TheMarionette,ashamedandhurtbythosewords,didnotanswer,buttakinghisglassofmilkreturnedtohisfather.Fromthatdayon,formorethanfivemonths,Pinocchiogotupeverymorning
justasdawnwasbreakingandwenttothefarmtodrawwater.Andeverydayhewasgivenaglassofwarmmilkforhispooroldfather,whogrewstrongerandbetterdaybyday.Buthewasnotsatisfiedwiththis.Helearnedtomakebasketsofreedsandsoldthem.Withthemoneyhereceived,heandhisfatherwereabletokeepfromstarving.Amongother things,hebuilta rollingchair,strongandcomfortable, to take
hisoldfatheroutforanairingonbright,sunnydays.IntheeveningtheMarionettestudiedbylamplight.Withsomeofthemoney
he had earned, he bought himself a secondhand volume that had a few pagesmissing,andwiththathelearnedtoreadinaveryshorttime.Asfaraswritingwasconcerned,heusedalongstickatoneendofwhichhehadwhittledalong,finepoint.Inkhehadnone,soheusedthejuiceofblackberriesorcherries.Littlebylittlehisdiligencewasrewarded.Hesucceeded,notonlyinhisstudies,butalsoinhiswork,andadaycamewhenheputenoughmoneytogethertokeephisold father comfortable and happy. Besides this, hewas able to save the greatamountoffiftypennies.Withithewantedtobuyhimselfanewsuit.Onedayhesaidtohisfather:“I am going to themarket place to buymyself a coat, a cap, and a pair of
shoes.WhenIcomebackI’llbesodressedup,youwillthinkIamarichman.”Heranoutofthehouseanduptheroadtothevillage,laughingandsinging.
Suddenlyheheardhisnamecalled,andlookingaroundtoseewhencethevoicecame,henoticedalargesnailcrawlingoutofsomebushes.“Don’tyourecognizeme?”saidtheSnail.“Yesandno.”“Doyou remember theSnail that livedwith theFairywithAzureHair?Do
you not remember how she opened the door for you one night and gave yousomethingtoeat?”“Iremembereverything,”criedPinocchio.“Answermequickly,prettySnail,
wherehaveyouleftmyFairy?Whatisshedoing?Hassheforgivenme?Doessherememberme?Doesshestillloveme?Issheveryfarawayfromhere?MayIseeher?”At all these questions, tumbling out one after another, the Snail answered,
calmasever:
“MydearPinocchio,theFairyislyingillinahospital.”“Inahospital?”“Yes,indeed.Shehasbeenstrickenwithtroubleandillness,andshehasn’ta
pennyleftwithwhichtobuyabiteofbread.”“Really?Oh,howsorryIam!Mypoor,dearlittleFairy!IfIhadamillionI
shouldruntoherwithit!ButIhaveonlyfiftypennies.Heretheyare.Iwasjustgoing to buy some clothes.Here, take them, littleSnail, andgive them tomygoodFairy.”“Whataboutthenewclothes?”“Whatdoesthatmatter?IshouldliketoselltheseragsIhaveontohelpher
more.Go,andhurry.ComebackherewithinacoupleofdaysandIhopetohavemoremoneyforyou!UntiltodayIhaveworkedformyfather.NowIshallhavetoworkformymotheralso.Good-by,andIhopetoseeyousoon.”The Snail,much against her usual habit, began to run like a lizard under a
summersun.WhenPinocchioreturnedhome,hisfatheraskedhim:“Andwhereisthenewsuit?”“Icouldn’tfindonetofitme.Ishallhavetolookagainsomeotherday.”That night, Pinocchio, instead of going to bed at ten o’clock waited until
midnight,andinsteadofmakingeightbaskets,hemadesixteen.Afterthathewenttobedandfellasleep.Asheslept,hedreamedofhisFairy,
beautiful, smiling, and happy, who kissed him and said to him, “Bravo,Pinocchio!Inrewardforyourkindheart,Iforgiveyouforallyouroldmischief.Boyswholoveandtakegoodcareoftheirparentswhentheyareoldandsick,deservepraiseeventhoughtheymaynotbeheldupasmodelsofobedienceandgoodbehavior.Keepondoingsowell,andyouwillbehappy.”Atthatverymoment,Pinocchioawokeandopenedwidehiseyes.Whatwashissurpriseandhisjoywhen,onlookinghimselfover,hesawthat
he was no longer a Marionette, but that he had become a real live boy! Helookedallabouthimandinsteadoftheusualwallsofstraw,hefoundhimselfinabeautifullyfurnishedlittleroom,theprettiesthehadeverseen.Inatwinkling,hejumpeddownfromhisbedtolookonthechairstandingnear.There,hefoundanewsuit,anewhat,andapairofshoes.Assoonashewasdressed,heputhishands inhispocketsandpulledouta
littleleatherpurseonwhichwerewrittenthefollowingwords:TheFairywithAzureHairreturns
fiftypenniestoherdearPinocchio
withmanythanksforhiskindheart.
TheMarionetteopenedthepursetofindthemoney,andbehold—therewerefiftygoldcoins!Pinocchiorantothemirror.Hehardlyrecognizedhimself.Thebrightfaceof
atallboylookedathimwithwide-awakeblueeyes,darkbrownhairandhappy,smilinglips.Surrounded by somuch splendor, theMarionette hardly knewwhat hewas
doing.Herubbedhiseyestwoorthreetimes,wonderingifhewerestillasleeporawakeanddecidedhemustbeawake.“Andwhere is Father?” he cried suddenly. He ran into the next room, and
therestoodGeppetto,grownyearsyoungerovernight,spickandspaninhisnewclothesandgayasa lark in themorning.HewasoncemoreMastroGeppetto,the wood carver, hard at work on a lovely picture frame, decorating it withflowersandleaves,andheadsofanimals.“Father,Father,whathashappened?Tellmeifyoucan,”criedPinocchio,as
heranandjumpedonhisFather’sneck.“This sudden change in our house is all your doing, my dear Pinocchio,”
answeredGeppetto.“WhathaveItodowithit?”“Just this.When bad boys become good and kind, they have the power of
makingtheirhomesgayandnewwithhappiness.”“IwonderwheretheoldPinocchioofwoodhashiddenhimself?”“There he is,” answered Geppetto. And he pointed to a large Marionette
leaning against a chair, head turned to one side, arms hanging limp, and legstwistedunderhim.Afteralong,longlook,Pinocchiosaidtohimselfwithgreatcontent:“HowridiculousIwasasaMarionette!AndhowhappyIam,nowthatIhave
becomearealboy!”
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