“Yes, shells.”
“And are they also animals?” Pinocchio had asked this question so many times that it came from him unconsciously.
“Yes, they are. They are small mollusks of strange form. When they come to the surface of the sea, they turn the opening of their shells upwards. Then they raise their sails, put out their oars, and float away. They are called argonauts. Aren’t they pretty?”
“How beautiful they are! But see! They are disappearing!”
“Yes, because clouds are gathering. It looks as if a storm were coming up, and these little animals don’t like storms. So they are taking refuge under the water.”
“By the way,” began Pinocchio, “will you please tell me whether or not you have met a little old man looking for his son?”
“No, I have not.”
“Well, then, good-by. It is getting late, and I must meet some friends of mine.”
But the little man did not wish him to go, so he held him by the arm.
“Listen here, my little man, where did you come from?”