“If you grieve so much for the loss of your father, you must be a good son. We dolphins are very fond of good children, and I more than others. To prove this to you, I shall only say that the dolphin of which Pliny speaks was my great-grandfather.”
“Pliny?” said Pinocchio. And he wrinkled his nose, because the name was not very well known to him.
“Yes, Pliny the Elder, the famous author of a natural history. He was a Roman, who was born about one thousand nine hundred years ago. He was killed in a terrific eruption of Vesuvius, the one that destroyed Herculaneum and Pompeii.”
Vesuvius, Herculaneum, and Pompeii were as familiar to the marionette as was Pliny. To speak plainly, he knew nothing whatever about them. But, making believe he understood everything, he said, “Yes, yes! These things I know. But of what does Pliny speak?”
“He tells us that in the suburbs of Naples a dolphin became very fond of a boy. Every morning he would wait near shore for the boy. When the child came, the dolphin would make the youngster climb on his back. Then the dolphin would swim to Pozzuoli, where was the boy’s school. Here the boy would go ashore, attend to his school duties, and when they were over, return to Naples on the dolphin’s back. A few years later the boy died suddenly. The dolphin, after waiting in vain for him for many days, grieved himself to death.”
“Is this little story really true?” asked Pinocchio.
“Pliny tells it. Some believe, some do not. But this matters little. To me, then, as to my parents and their parents, good children have always been pets. Now listen carefully. Among dolphins, it is the custom for the young ones to travel with the older ones. I am a tutor, and I am about to start on a long journey with a young dolphin. If you wish to come with us to look for your father, you are more than welcome.”
“My dear Mr. Dolphin, I shall be delighted. May I ask where we are to go?”
“We are to go on a journey around our world.”