"Oh, are you still there?"
"Yes.... I haven't been able to start the beginning because ..."
"Do you or do you not know how to write?"
"Like a lawyer."
"Then?"
"I don't know what his last name is."
"Whose?"
"Franz Joe's."
"Writing to him? You want to write to him? To that miserable Hapsburg?"
The news spread like lightning through the camp. The soldiers passed it from mouth to mouth, laughing like mad: Pinocchio was writing to Emperor Franz Joseph! This was interesting. They must know what the letter said. It would certainly be something to amuse them. So walking quietly, as if they were all eager to take him in the very act, they approached the tent where Pinocchio was composing his missive, not without difficulty. He had not been writing for several minutes and the words seemed so long to put down on paper. He had to keep thinking of the spelling, and the verbs bothered him terribly. When he raised his head to draw a breath of relief before re-reading what he had managed to write, he found himself surrounded by all the regiment.