So saying, Pinocchio moved toward an old man who was sitting with a pipe in his mouth. He had finished his meal and was enjoying a smoke. The marionette took off his hat and said, “Pardon me, sir; what time is it?”
The old man’s answer came in a volume of smoke.
“Ask the sun, my boy. He will tell you.”
“Thank you!” said Pinocchio, a little taken aback by this reception, and he moved on toward a woman with a baby on her shoulders.
“Madam, will you please tell me if I am on the right road to—”
“The world is wide,” broke in the woman.
“And long too,” thought the marionette. “How polite these Africans are!”
Of course, the marionette was a stupid fellow. He was a little ashamed to beg for food, and had only asked these questions so that the people might notice him and perhaps offer him food and water. An ordinary boy would have asked for what he wanted, but the blockhead was too proud.
He was about to go on when the baby began to wave its arms, and to shout, “I want it! I want it!”
Can you guess what it wanted? Pinocchio’s nose! The child reached out its hands, and cried and kicked in trying to get hold of it.