“How horrible the sea is at night,” grumbled the marionette.
“‘Good-night,’” he called.
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he wished them in again. As if the waves had taken offense at his remark, they were suddenly turned into fire. It seemed as if millions of stars had fallen into the sea.
Pinocchio ran out of the cave. As far as eye could reach there was nothing but this fiery sea. The bright, shiny water rose and fell in silvery waves. Millions of sparks were thrown up into the air and fell back again.
“Oh! the sea is on fire,” shouted Pinocchio, and that O-o-o-o-h was the longest that had as yet come from his mouth. “And then Mr. Tursio tells me he is not a wizard.”
He could hardly be blamed, poor ignorant little marionette. That scene certainly belonged more to fairyland than to real life.
It was the phosphorescence of the sea that attracted Pinocchio’s attention. Sometimes this is so wonderfully beautiful that seen once, it can never be forgotten.
“‘Oh! the Sea is on Fire.’”