As he talked to himself, he thought he heard sounds of pipes and drums coming from a distance: pi-pi-pi, pi-pi-pi. . .zum, zum, zum, zum.
He stopped to listen. Those sounds came from a little street that led to a small village along the shore.
“What can that noise be? What a nuisance that I have to go to school! Otherwise. . .”
There he stopped, very much puzzled. He felt he had to make up his mind for either one thing or another. Should he go to school, or should he follow the pipes?
“Today I’ll follow the pipes, and tomorrow I’ll go to school. There’s always plenty of time to go to school,” decided the little rascal at last, shrugging his shoulders.
No sooner said than done. He started down the street, going like the wind. On he ran, and louder grew the sounds of pipe and drum: pi-pi-pi, pi-pi-pi, pi-pi-pi . . .zum, zum, zum, zum.
Suddenly, he found himself in a large square, full of people standing in front of a little wooden building painted in brilliant colors.
“What is that house?” Pinocchio asked a little boy near him.
“Read the sign and you’ll know.”
“I’d like to read, but somehow I can’t today.”