The coach was, in fact, quite full of boys between eight and fourteen years old, heaped one upon another like herrings in a barrel. They were uncomfortable, packed closely together and could hardly breathe; but nobody said "Oh!"—nobody grumbled. The consolation of knowing that in a few hours they would reach a country where there were no books, no schools, and no masters, made them so happy and resigned that they felt neither fatigue nor inconvenience, neither hunger, nor thirst, nor want of sleep.
As soon as the coach had drawn up the little man turned to Candlewick and with a thousand smirks and grimaces said to him, smiling:
"Tell me, my fine boy, would you also like to go to that fortunate country?"
"I certainly wish to go."
"But I must warn you, my dear child, that there is not a place left in the coach. You can see for yourself that it is quite full."
"No matter," replied Candlewick, "if there is no place inside, I will manage to sit on the springs."
And, giving a leap, he seated himself astride on the springs.
"And you, my love!" said the little man, turning in a flattering manner to Pinocchio, "what do you intend to do? Are you coming with us or are you going to remain behind?"
"I remain behind," answered Pinocchio. "I am going home. I intend to study, as all well conducted boys do."
"Much good may it do you!"