ITALIAN STORIES
PINOCCHIO'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND[*]
BY CARLO LORENZINI
I
MASTER CHERRY FINDS A QUEER PIECE OF WOOD
T
HERE was once upon a time ...
"A king!" my little readers will instantly exclaim.
No, children, you are wrong. There was once upon a time a piece of wood.
This wood was not valuable; it was only a common log like those that are burnt in winter in the stoves and fireplaces to make a cheerful blaze and warm the rooms.
I cannot say how it came about, but the fact is, that one fine day this piece of wood was lying in the shop of an old carpenter of the name of Master Antonio. He was, however, called by everybody Master Cherry, on account of the end of his nose, which was always as red and polished as a ripe cherry.
No sooner had Master Cherry set his eyes on the piece of wood than his face beamed with delight; and, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction, he said softly to himself:
"This wood has come at the right moment; it will just do to make the leg of a little table."
Having said this he immediately took a sharp axe with which to remove the bark and the rough surface. Just, however, as he was going to give the first stroke he remained with his arm suspended in the air, for he heard a very small voice saying imploringly: "Do not strike me so hard!"
Picture to yourselves the astonishment of good old Master Cherry!
He turned his terrified eyes all around the room to try and discover where the little voice could possibly have come from, but he saw nobody! He looked under the bench—nobody; he looked into a cupboard that was always shut—nobody; he looked into a basket of shavings and sawdust—nobody; he even opened the door of the shop and gave a glance into the street—and still nobody. Who, then, could it be?
"I see how it is;" he said, laughing and scratching his wig; "evidently that little voice was all my imagination. Let us set to work again."
And taking up the axe he struck a tremendous blow on the piece of wood.
"Oh! oh! you have hurt me!" cried the same little voice dolefully.
This time Master Cherry was petrified. His eyes started out of his head with fright, his mouth remained open, and his tongue hung out almost to the end of his chin like a mask on a fountain. As soon as he had recovered the use of his speech, he began to say, stuttering and trembling with fear:
"But where on earth can that little voice have come from that said 'Oh! oh!?' ... Here there is certainly not a living soul. Is it possible that this piece of wood can have learnt to cry and to lament like a child? I cannot believe it. This piece of wood here it is; a log for fuel like all others, and thrown on the fire it would about suffice to boil a saucepan of beans.... How then? Can anyone be hidden inside it? If anyone is hidden inside, so much the worse for him. I will settle him at once."
So saying he seized the poor piece of wood and commenced beating it without mercy against the walls of the room.
Then he stopped to listen if he could hear any little voice lamenting. He waited two minutes—nothing; five minutes-nothing; ten minutes—still nothing!
"I see how it is," he then said, forcing himself to laugh and pushing up his wig; "evidently, the little voice that said 'Oh! oh!' was all my imagination! Let us to work again."
But all the same he was in a great fright; he tried to sing to give himself a little courage.
Putting the axe aside he took his plane to plane and polish [page 396] the bit of wood; but whilst he was running it up and down he heard the same little voice say, laughing:
"Have done! you are tickling me all over!"
This time poor Master Cherry fell down as if he had been struck by lightning. When he at last opened his eyes he found himself seated on the floor.
His face was quite changed; even the end of his nose, instead of being crimson, as it was nearly always, had become blue from fright.
II
GEPPETTO PLANS A WONDERFUL PUPPET
At that moment some one knocked at the door.
"Come in," said the carpenter, without having the strength to rise to his feet.
A lively little old man immediately walked into the shop. His name was Geppetto, but when the boys in the neighborhood wished to put him in a passion they called him by the nickname of Polendina, because his yellow wig greatly resembled a pudding made of Indian corn.
Geppetto was very fiery. Woe to him who called him Polendina! He became furious, and there was no holding him.
"Good day, Master Antonio," said Geppetto; "what are you doing there on the floor?"
"I am teaching the alphabet to the ants."
"Much good may that do you."
"What has brought you to me, neighbor Geppetto?"
"My legs. But to say the truth, Master Antonio, I am come to ask a favor of you."
"Here I am ready to serve you," replied the carpenter getting on his knees.
"This morning an idea came into my head."
"Let us hear it."
"I thought I would make a beautiful wooden puppet that should know how to dance, to fence, and to leap like an acrobat. With this puppet I would travel about the world to earn a piece of bread and a glass of wine. What do you think of it?"
"Bravo, Polendina!" exclaimed the same little voice, and it was impossible to say where it came from.
Hearing himself called Polendina, Geppetto became as red as a turkey-cock from rage, and turning to the carpenter he said in a fury:
"Why do you insult me?"
"Who insults you?"
"You called me Polendina!"
"It was not I!"
"Would you have it then, that it was I? It was you, I say!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
And becoming more and more angry, from words they came to blows, and flying at each other they bit, and fought, and scratched manfully.
When the fight was over Master Antonio was in possession of Geppetto's yellow wig, and Geppetto discovered that the gray wig belonging to the carpenter had remained between his teeth.
"Give me back my wig," screamed Master Antonio.
"And you return me mine, and let us make friends."
The two old men having each recovered his own wig shook hands, and swore that they would remain friends to the end of their lives.
"Well then, neighbor Geppetto," said the carpenter, to prove that peace was made, "what is the favor that you wish of me?"
"I want a little wood to make my puppet; will you give me some?"
Master Antonio was delighted, and he immediately went to the bench and fetched the piece of wood that had caused him so much fear. Just as he was going to give it to his friend the piece of wood gave a shake and wriggling violently out of his hands struck with all its force against the dried-up shins of poor Geppetto.
"Ah! is that the courteous way in which you make your presents, Master Antonio? You have almost lamed me!"
"I swear to you that it was not I!"
"Then you would have it that it was I?"
"The wood is entirely to blame!"
"I know that it was the wood, but it was you that hit my legs with it!"
"I did not hit you with it!"
"Liar!"
"Geppetto, don't insult me or I will call you Polendina!"
"Ass!"
"Polendina!"
"Donkey!"
"Polendina!"
"Baboon!"
"Polendina!"
On hearing himself called Polendina for the third time Geppetto, blind with rage, fell upon the carpenter and they fought desperately.
When the battle was over, Master Antonio had two more scratches on his nose, and his adversary had two buttons less on his waistcoat. Their accounts being thus squared they shook hands, and swore to remain good friends for the rest of their lives.
Geppetto carried off his fine piece of wood, and thanking Master Antonio returned limping to his house.
III
THE PUPPET IS NAMED PINOCCHIO
Geppetto lived in a small ground-floor room that was only lighted from the staircase. The furniture could not have been simpler—a bad chair, a poor bed, and a broken-down table. At the end of the room there was a fireplace with a lighted fire; but the fire was painted, and by the fire was painted a saucepan that was boiling cheerfully, and sending out a cloud of smoke that looked exactly like real smoke.
As soon as he reached home Geppetto took his tools and set to work to cut out and model his puppet.
"What name shall I give him?" he said to himself; "I think I will call him Pinocchio. It is a name that will bring him luck. I once knew a whole family so called. There was Pinocchio the father, Pinocchia the mother, and Pinocchi the children, and all of them did well. The richest of them was a beggar."
Having found a name for his puppet he began to work in good earnest, and he first made his hair, then his forehead and then his eyes.
The eyes being finished, imagine his astonishment when he perceived that they moved and looked fixedly at him.
Geppetto seeing himself stared at by those two wooden eyes, took it almost in bad part, and said in an angry voice:
"Wicked wooden eyes, why do you look at me?"
No one answered.
Then he proceeded to carve the nose; but no sooner had he made it than it began to grow. And it grew, and grew, and grew until in a few minutes it had become an immense nose that seemed as if it would never end.
Poor Geppetto tired himself out with cutting it off. But the more he cut and shortened it, the longer did that impertinent nose become!
The mouth was not even completed when it began to laugh and deride him.
"Stop laughing!" said Geppetto provoked; but he might as well have spoken to the wall.
"Stop laughing, I say!" he roared in a threatening tone.
The mouth then ceased laughing, but put out its tongue as far as it would go.
Geppetto, not to spoil his handiwork, pretended not to see, and continued his labors. After the mouth he fashioned the chin, then the throat, and then the shoulders, the stomach, the arms and the hands.
The hands were scarcely finished when Geppetto felt his wig snatched from his head. He turned round, and what did he see? He saw his yellow wig in the puppet's hand.
"Pinocchio!... Give me back my wig instantly!"
But Pinocchio instead of returning it, put it on his own head, and was in consequence nearly smothered.
Geppetto at this insolent and derisive behavior felt sadder and more melancholy than he had ever been in his life before; and turning to Pinocchio he said to him:
"You young rascal! You are not yet completed, and you are already beginning to show want of respect to your father! That is bad, my boy, very bad."
And he dried a tear.
The legs and feet remained to be done.
When Geppetto had finished the feet he received a kick on the point of the nose.
"I deserve it!" he said to himself; "I should have thought of it sooner! Now it is too late!"
He then took the puppet under the arms and placed him on the floor to teach him to walk.
Pinocchio's legs were stiff and he could not move, but Geppetto led him by the hand and showed him how to put one foot before the other.
When his legs became flexible Pinocchio began to walk by himself and to run about the room; until, having gone out of the house door, he jumped into the street and escaped.
Poor Geppetto rushed after him but was not able to overtake him, for that rascal Pinocchio leapt in front of him like a hare, and knocking his wooden feet together against the pavement made as much clatter as twenty pairs of peasant's clogs.
"Stop him! stop him!" shouted Geppetto; but the people in the street, seeing a wooden puppet running like a racehorse stood still in astonishment to look at it, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed, until it beats description....
IV
THE FIRE-EATER FRIGHTENS PINOCCHIO
When Pinocchio came into the little puppet theater, an incident occurred that almost produced a revolution. [page 401] I must tell you that the curtain was drawn up, and the play had already begun.
On the stage Harlequin and Punchinello were as usual quarreling with each other, and threatening every moment to come to blows.
The audience, all attention, laughed till they were ill as they listened to the bickerings of these two puppets, who gesticulated and abused each other so naturally that they might have been two reasonable beings, and two persons of the world.
All at once Harlequin stopped short, and turning to the public he pointed with his hand to some one far down in the pit, and exclaimed in a dramatic tone:
"Gods of the firmament! do I dream, or am I awake? But surely that is Pinocchio!"
"It is indeed Pinocchio!" cried Punchinello.
"It is indeed himself!" screamed Miss Rose, peeping from behind the scenes.
"It is Pinocchio! it is Pinocchio!" shouted all the puppets in chorus, leaping from all sides on to the stage. "It is Pinocchio! It is our brother Pinocchio! Long live Pinocchio!"
"Pinocchio, come up here to me," cried Harlequin, "and throw yourself into the arms of your wooden brothers!"
At this affectionate invitation Pinocchio made a leap from the end of the pit into the reserved seats; another leap landed him on the head of the leader of the orchestra, and then he sprang upon the stage.
The embraces, the hugs, the friendly pinches, and the demonstrations of warm brotherly affection that Pinocchio received from the excited crowd of actors and actresses of the puppet dramatic company beat description.
The sight was doubtless a moving one, but the public in the pit, finding that the play was stopped, became impatient, and began to shout "We will have the play—go on with the play!"
It was all breath thrown away. The puppets, instead of continuing the recital, redoubled their noise and outcries, and putting Pinocchio on their shoulders they carried him in triumph before the footlights.
At that moment out came the showman. He was very big [page 402] and so ugly that the sight of him was enough to frighten anyone. His beard was as black as ink, and so long that it reached from his chin to the ground. I need only say that he trod upon it when he walked. His mouth was as big as an oven, and his eyes were like two lanterns of red glass with lights burning inside of them. He carried a whip made of snakes and foxes' tails twisted together, which he cracked constantly.
At his unexpected appearance there was a profound silence: no one dared to breathe. A fly might have been heard in the stillness. The poor puppets of both sexes trembled like so many leaves.
"Why have you come to raise a disturbance in my theater?" asked the showman of Pinocchio in the gruff voice of a hob-goblin suffering from a severe cold in the head.
"Believe me, honored sir, that it was not my fault!"
"That is enough! To-night we will settle our accounts."
As soon as the play was over the showman went into the kitchen where a fine sheep, preparing for his supper, was turning slowly on the spit in front of the fire. As there was not enough wood to finish roasting and browning it, he called Harlequin and Punchinello, and said to them:
"Bring that puppet here; you will find him hanging on a nail. It seems to me that he is made of very dry wood, and I am sure that if he was thrown on the fire he would make a beautiful blaze for the roast."
At first Harlequin and Punchinello hesitated; but, appalled by a severe glance from their master, they obeyed. In a short time they returned to the kitchen carrying poor Pinocchio, who was wriggling like an eel taken out of water, and screaming desperately, "Papa! papa! save me! I will not die, I will not die!"
V.
FIRE-EATER SNEEZES AND PARDONS PINOCCHIO
The showman Fire-eater—for that was his name—looked, I must say, a terrible man, especially with his black beard that covered his chest and legs like an apron. On the whole, however, [page 403] he had not a bad heart. In proof of this, when he saw Pinocchio brought before him, struggling and screaming "I will not die, I will not die!" he was quite moved and felt sorry for him. He tried to hold out, but after a little he could stand it no longer and he sneezed violently. When he heard the sneeze, Harlequin, who up to that moment had been in the deepest affliction, and bowed down like a weeping willow, became quite cheerful, and leaning towards Pinocchio he whispered to him softly:
"Good news, brother. The showman has sneezed, and that is a sign that he pities you, and consequently you are saved."
For you must know that whilst most men when they feel compassion for somebody either weep, or at least pretend to dry their eyes, Fire-eater, on the contrary, had the habit of sneezing.
After he had sneezed, the showman, still acting the ruffian, shouted to Pinocchio:
"Have done crying! Your lamentations have given me a pain in my stomach ... I feel a spasm, that almost ... Etci! etci!" and he sneezed again twice.
"Bless you!" said Pinocchio.
"Thank you! And your papa and your mamma, are they still alive?" asked Fire-eater.
"Papa, yes: my mamma I have never known."
"Who can say what a sorrow it would be to your poor old father if I was to have you thrown amongst those burning coals! Poor old man! I compassionate him!... Etci! etci! etci!" and he sneezed three times.
"Bless you!" said Pinocchio.
"Thank you! All the same, some compassion is due to me, for you see I have no more wood with which to finish roasting my mutton, and to tell you the truth, under the circumstances you would have been of great use to me! However, I have had pity on you, so I must have patience. Instead of you I will burn under the spit one of the puppets belonging to my company. Ho there, gendarmes!"
At this call two wooden gendarmes immediately appeared. [page 404] They were very long and very thin and had on cocked hats, and held unsheathed swords in their hands.
The showman said to them in a hoarse voice:
"Take Harlequin, bind him securely, and then throw him on the fire to burn. I am determined that my mutton shall be well roasted."
Only imagine that poor Harlequin! His terror was so great that his legs bent under him, and he fell with his face on the ground.
At this agonizing sight Pinocchio, weeping bitterly, threw himself at the showman's feet, and bathing his long beard with his tears he began to say in a supplicating voice:
"Have pity, Sir Fire-eater!"
"Here there are no sirs," the showman answered severely.
"Have pity, Sir Knight!"
"Here there are no knights!"
"Have pity, Commander!"
"Here there are no commanders!"
"Have pity, Excellence!"
Upon hearing himself called Excellence the showman began to smile, and became at once kinder and more tractable. Turning to Pinocchio he asked:
"Well, what do you want from me?"
"I implore you to pardon poor Harlequin."
"For him there can be no pardon. As I have spared you he must be put on the fire, for I am determined that my mutton shall be well roasted."
"In that case," cried Pinocchio proudly, rising and throwing away his cap of bread crumb "in that case I know my duty. Come on, gendarmes! Bind me and throw me amongst the flames. No, it is not just that poor Harlequin, my true friend, should die for me!"
These words, pronounced in a loud heroic voice, made all the puppets who were present cry. Even the gendarmes, although they were made of wood, wept like two newly-born lambs.
Fire-eater at first remained as hard and unmoved as ice, but little by little he began to melt and to sneeze. And having [page 405] sneezed four or five times, he opened his arms affectionately, and said to Pinocchio:
"You are a good brave boy! Come here and give me a kiss."
Pinocchio ran at once, and climbing like a squirrel up the showman's beard he deposited a hearty kiss on the point of his nose.
"Then the pardon is granted?" asked poor Harlequin in a faint voice that was scarcely audible.
"The pardon is granted!" answered Fire-eater. He then added, sighing and shaking his head:
"I must have patience! To-night I shall have to resign myself to eat the mutton half raw; but another time, woe to him who chances!"
At the news of the pardon all the puppets ran to the stage, and having lighted the lamps and chandeliers as if for a full-dress performance, they began to leap and to dance merrily. At dawn they were still dancing.
VI
THE SHOWMAN BECOMES GENEROUS
The following day Fire-eater called Pinocchio to one side and asked him:
"What is your father's name?"
"Geppetto."
"And what trade does he follow?"
"He is a beggar."
"Does he gain much?"
"Gain much? Why, he has never a penny in his pocket. Only think, to buy a spelling-book for me to go to school, he was obliged to sell the only coat he had to wear—a coat that between patches and darns was not fit to be seen."
"Poor devil! I feel almost sorry for him! Here are five gold pieces. Go at once and take them to him with my compliments."
You can easily understand that Pinocchio thanked the [page 406] showman a thousand times. He embraced all the puppets of the company one by one, even to the gendarmes, and beside himself with delight set out to return home.
But he had not gone far when he met on the road a Fox lame in one foot, and a Cat blind in both eyes, who were going along helping each other like good companions in misfortune. The Fox who was lame walked leaning on the Cat, and the Cat who was blind was guided by the Fox.
"Good day, Pinocchio," said the Fox, accosting him politely.
"How do you come to know my name?" asked the puppet.
"I know your father well."
"Where did you see him?"
"I saw him yesterday at the door of his house."
"And what was he doing?"
"He was in his shirt sleeves and shivering with cold."
"Poor papa! But that is over; for the future he shall shiver no more."
"Why?"
"Because I am become a gentleman."
"A gentleman—you!" said the Fox, and he began to laugh rudely and scornfully. The Cat also began to laugh, but to conceal it she combed her whiskers with her forepaws.
"There is little to laugh at," cried Pinocchio angrily. "I am really sorry to make your mouths water, but if you know anything about it, you can see that here are five gold pieces."
And he pulled out the money that Fire-eater had made him a present of.
At the sympathetic ring of the money the Fox with an involuntary movement stretched out the paw that had seemed crippled, and the cat opened wide two eyes that looked like two green lanterns. It is true that she shut them again, and so quickly that Pinocchio observed nothing.
"And now," asked the Fox, "what are you going to do with all that money?"
"First of all," answered the Puppet, "I intend to buy a new coat for my papa, made of gold and silver, and with diamond buttons, and then I will buy a spelling-book for myself."
"For yourself?"
"Yes, indeed, for I wish to go to school to study in earnest."
"Look at me!" said the Fox. "Through my foolish passion for study I have lost a leg."
"Look at me!" said the Cat. "Through my foolish passion for study I have lost the sight of both my eyes."
At that moment a white Blackbird, that was perched on the hedge by the road, began his usual song, and said:
"Pinocchio, don't listen to the advice of bad companions; if you do you will repent it!"
Poor Blackbird! If only he had not spoken! The Cat with a great leap sprang upon him and without even giving him time to say "Oh!" ate him in a mouthful, feathers and all.
Having eaten him and cleaned her mouth she shut her eyes again and feigned blindness as before.
"Poor Blackbird!" said Pinocchio to the Cat. "Why did you treat him so badly?"
"I did it to give him a lesson. He will learn another time not to meddle in other people's conversation."
They had gone almost half-way when the Fox, halting suddenly, said to the puppet:
"Would you like to double your money?"
"In what way?"
"Would you like to make out of your five miserable gold pieces, a hundred, a thousand, two thousand?"
"I should think so! But in what way?"
"The way is easy enough. Instead of returning home you must go with us."
"And where do you wish to take me?"
"To the Land of the Owls."
Pinocchio reflected a moment, and then he said resolutely:
"No, I will not go. I am already close to the house, and I will return home to my papa who is waiting for me. Who can tell how often the poor old man must have sighed yesterday when I did not come back! I have been a bad son, indeed, and the Talking-cricket was right when he said 'Disobedient boys never come to any good in the world.' I have found it [page 408] to my cost, for many misfortunes have happened to me. Even yesterday in Fire-eater's house I ran the risk.... Oh! it makes me shudder only to think of it."
"Well, then," said the Fox, "you are quite decided to go home? Go, then, and so much the worse for you."
"So much the worse for you!" repeated the Cat.
"Think well of it, Pinocchio, for you are giving a kick to fortune."
"To fortune!" repeated the Cat.
"Between to-day and to-morrow your five gold pieces would have become two thousand."
"Two thousand!" repeated the Cat.
"But how is it possible that they could have become so many?" asked Pinocchio, remaining with his mouth open from astonishment.
"I will explain it to you at once," said the Fox. "You must know that in the Land of the Owls there is a sacred field called by everybody the Field of Miracles. In this field you must dig a little hole, and you put into it, we will say one gold piece. Then you cover up the hole with a little earth; you water it with two pails of water from the fountain, then sprinkle it with two pinches of salt, and when night comes you can go quietly to bed. In the meanwhile, during the night, the gold piece will grow and flower, and in the morning when you return to the field, what do you find? You find a beautiful tree laden with as many gold pieces as an ear of corn has grains in the month of June."
"So that," said Pinocchio, more and more bewildered, "supposing I buried my five gold pieces in that field, how many should I find there the following morning?"
"That is exceedingly easy calculation," replied the Fox, "a calculation that you can make on the ends of your fingers. Suppose that every gold piece gives you an increase of five hundred; multiply five hundred by five, and the following morning will find you with two thousand five hundred shining gold pieces in your pocket."
"Oh! how delightful!" cried Pinocchio, dancing for joy, "As soon as ever I have obtained those gold pieces, I will keep [page 409] two thousand for myself, and the other five hundred I will make a present of to you two."
"A present to us?" cried the Fox with indignation, and appearing much offended. "What are you dreaming of?"
"What are you dreaming of?" repeated the Cat.
"We do not work," said the Fox, "for dirty interest, we work solely to enrich others."
"Others!" repeated the Cat.
"What good people!" thought Pinocchio to himself; and forgetting there and then his papa, the new coat, the spelling-book, and all his good resolutions, he said to the Fox and the Cat:
"Let us be off at once. I will go with you."
VII
THE INN OF THE RED-CRAWFISH
They walked, and walked, and walked, until at last, towards evening, they arrived dead tired at the Inn of The Red-Crawfish.
"Let us stop here, a little," said the Fox, "that we may have something to eat and rest ourselves for an hour or two. We will start again at midnight, so as to arrive at the Field of Miracles by dawn to-morrow morning."
Having gone into the inn they all three sat down to table, but none of them had any appetite.
The Cat, who was suffering from indigestion and feeling seriously indisposed, could only eat thirty-five mullet with tomato sauce, and four portions of tripe with Parmesan cheese; and because she thought the tripe was not seasoned enough, she asked three times for the butter and grated cheese!
The Fox would also willingly have picked a little, but as his doctor had ordered him a strict diet, he was forced to content himself simply with a hare dressed with a sweet and sour sauce, and garnished lightly with fat chickens and early pullets. After the hare he sent for a made dish of partridges, rabbits, frogs, lizards, and other delicacies; he could not touch anything [page 410] else. He had such a disgust for food, he said, that he could put nothing to his lips.
The one who ate the least was Pinocchio. He asked for some walnuts and a hunch of bread, and left everything on his plate. The poor boy, whose thoughts were continually fixed on the Field of Miracles, had got in anticipation an indigestion of gold pieces.
When they had supped the Fox said to the host:
"Give us two good rooms, one for Mr. Pinocchio, and the other for me and my companion. We will snatch a little sleep before we leave. Remember, however, that at midnight we wish to be called to continue our journey."
"Yes, gentlemen," answered the host, and he winked at the Fox and the Cat as much as to say: "I know what you are up to. We understand one another!"
No sooner had Pinocchio got into bed than he fell asleep at once and began to dream. And he dreamt that he was in the middle of a field, and the field was filled with shrubs covered with clusters of gold pieces, and as they swung in the wind they went zin, zin, zin, almost as if they would say: "Let who will come and take us." But when Pinocchio was at the most interesting moment, that is, just as he was stretching out his hand to pick handfuls of those beautiful gold pieces and put them in his pockets, he was suddenly wakened by three violent blows on the door of his room.
It was the host who had come to tell him that midnight had struck.
"Are my companions ready?" asked the puppet.
"Ready! Why, they left two hours ago."
"Why were they in such a hurry?"
"Because the Cat had received a message to say that her eldest kitten was ill with chilblains on his feet, and was in danger of death."
"Did they pay for supper?"
"What are you thinking of? They are too highly educated to dream of offering such an insult to a gentleman like you."
"What a pity! It is an insult that would have given me [page 411] so much pleasure!" said Pinocchio, scratching his head. He then asked:
"And where did my good friends say they would wait for me?"
"At the Field of Miracles, to-morrow morning at daybreak."
Pinocchio paid a gold piece for his supper and that of his companions and then he left.
Outside the inn it was so pitch dark that he had almost to grope his way, for it was impossible to see a hand's breadth in front of him. In the adjacent country not a leaf moved. Only some night-birds flying across the road from one hedge to the other brushed Pinocchio's nose with their wings as they passed, which caused him so much terror that springing back, he shouted: "Who goes there?" and the echo in the surrounding hills repeated in the distance: "Who goes there? Who goes there? Who goes there?" ...
VIII
THE PUPPET FALLS AMONG ASSASSINS
He turned to look, and saw in the gloom two evil-looking black figures completely enveloped in charcoal sacks. They were running after him on tiptoe, and making great leaps like two phantoms.
"Here they are in reality!" he said to himself, and not knowing where to hide his gold pieces he put them in his mouth precisely under his tongue.
Then he tried to escape. But he had not gone a step when he felt himself seized by the arm, and heard two sepulchral voices saying to him:
"Your money or your life!"
Pinocchio, not being able to answer in words, owing to the money in his mouth, made a thousand low bows and a thousand pantomimes. He tried thus to make the two muffled figures, whose eyes were only visible through the holes in their sacks, [page 412] understand that he was a poor puppet, and that he had not as much as a false penny in his pocket.
"Come now! Less nonsense and out with the money!" cried the two brigands threateningly.
And the puppet made a gesture with his hands to signify "I have got none."
"Deliver up your money or you are dead," said the tallest of the brigands.
"Dead!" repeated the other.
"And after we have killed you, we will also kill your father!"
"Also your father!"
"No, no, no, not my poor papa!" cried Pinocchio in a despairing tone; and as he said it, the gold pieces clinked in his mouth.
"Ah! You rascal! Then you have hidden your money under your tongue! Spit it out at once!"
But Pinocchio was obdurate.
And one of them seized the puppet by the end of his nose, and the other took him by the chin, and began to pull them brutally, the one up, and the other down, to constrain him to open his mouth, but it was all to no purpose. Pinocchio's mouth seemed to be nailed and riveted together.
Then the shortest assassin drew out an ugly knife and tried to force it between his lips like a lever or chisel. But Pinocchio as quick as lightning caught his hand with his teeth, and with one bite bit it clean off and spat it out. Imagine his astonishment when instead of a hand he perceived that he had spat a cat's paw on to the ground.
Encouraged by his first victory he used his nails to such purpose that he succeeded in liberating himself from his assailants, and jumping the hedge by the roadside he began to fly across the country. The assassins ran after him like two dogs chasing a hare; and the one who had lost the paw ran on one leg and no one ever knew how he managed it.
After a race of some miles Pinocchio could do no more. Giving himself up for lost he climbed the stem of a very high pine-tree and seated himself in the topmost branches. The assassins attempted to climb after him, but when they had [page 413] reached halfway up the stem they slid down again, and arrived on the ground with the skin grazed from their hands and knees.
But they were not to be beaten by so little; collecting a quantity of dry wood they piled it beneath the pine and set fire to it. In less time than it takes to tell the pine began to burn and flame like a candle blown by the wind. Pinocchio, seeing that the flames were mounting higher every instant, and not wishing to end his life like a roasted pigeon, made a stupendous leap from the top of the tree and started afresh across the fields and vineyards. The assassins followed him, and kept behind him without once giving in.
The day began to break and they were still pursuing him. Suddenly Pinocchio found his way barred by a wide, deep ditch full of dirty water the color of coffee. What was he to do? "One! two! three!" cried the puppet, and making a rush he sprang to the other side. The assassins also jumped, but not having measured the distance properly—splash, splash!... they fell into the very middle of the ditch. Pinocchio who heard the plunge and the splashing of water, shouted out, laughing and without stopping:
"A fine bath to you, gentlemen assassins."
He felt convinced that they were drowned, when, turning to look he perceived that, on the contrary, they were both running after him, still enveloped in their sacks with the water dripping from them as if they had been two hollow baskets....