Pinocchio's Wild Ride on the Pigeon's Back
As soon as Pinocchio was released from the heavy and humiliating weight of the dog-collar he started off across the fields and never stopped until he had reached the high road that led to the Fairy's house. He could see amongst the trees the top of the Big Oak to which he had been hung, but, although he looked in every direction, the little house belonging to the beautiful Child with the blue hair was nowhere visible.
Seized with a sad presentiment, he began to run with all the strength he had left and in a few minutes he reached the field where the little white house had once stood. But it was no longer there. Instead of the house he saw a marble stone, on which were engraved these sad words:
HERE LIESTHE CHILD WITH THE BLUE HAIRWHO DIED FROM SORROWBECAUSE SHE WAS ABANDONED BY HERLITTLE BROTHER PINOCCHIO
I leave you to imagine the puppet's feelings when he had with difficulty spelled out this epitaph. He fell with his face on the ground and, covering the tombstone with a thousand kisses, burst into an agony of tears. He cried all night and when morning came he was still crying, although he had no tears left, and his sobs and lamentations were so acute and heart-breaking that they aroused the echoes in the surrounding hills.
And as he wept he said:
"Oh, little Fairy, why did you die? Why did I not die instead of you, I who am so wicked, whilst you were so good? And my papa? Where can he be? Oh, little Fairy, tell me where I can find him, for I want to remain with him always and never leave him again, never again! Oh, little Fairy, tell me that it is not true that you are dead! If you really love your little brother, come to life again. Does it not grieve you to see me alone and abandoned by everybody? If assassins come they will hang me again to the branch of a tree, and then I should die indeed. What do you imagine that I can do here alone in the world? Now that I have lost you and my papa, who will give me food? Where shall I go to sleep at night? Who will make me a new jacket? Oh, it would be better, a hundred times better, for me to die also! Yes, I want to die—oh! oh! oh!"
And in his despair he tried to tear his hair, but his hair was made of wood so he could not even have the satisfaction of sticking his fingers into it.
An Immense Serpent StretchedAcross the RoadAn Immense Serpent Stretched across the Road
Just then a large Pigeon flew over his head and, stopping with distended wings, called down to him from a great height:
"Tell me, child, what are you doing there?"
"Don't you see? I am crying!" said Pinocchio, raising his head towards the voice and rubbing his eyes with his jacket.
"Tell me," continued the Pigeon, "amongst your companions, do you happen to know a puppet who is called Pinocchio?"
"Pinocchio? Did you say Pinocchio?" repeated the puppet, jumping quickly to his feet. "I am Pinocchio!"
At this answer the Pigeon descended rapidly to the ground. He was larger than a turkey.
"Do you also know Geppetto?" he asked.
"Do I know him! He is my poor papa! Has he perhaps spoken to you of me? Will you take me to him? Is he still alive? Answer me, for pity's sake: is he still alive?"
"I left him three days ago on the seashore."
"What was he doing?"
"He was building a little boat for himself, to cross the ocean. For more than three months that poor man has been going all round the world looking for you. Not having succeeded in finding you, he has now taken it into his head to go to the distant countries of the New World in search of you."
"How far is it from here to the shore?" asked Pinocchio breathlessly.
"More than six hundred miles."
"Six hundred miles? Oh, beautiful Pigeon, what a fine thing it would be to have your wings!"
"If you wish to go, I will carry you there."
"How?"
"On my back. Do you weigh much?"
"I weigh next to nothing. I am as light as a feather."
And without waiting for more Pinocchio jumped at once on the Pigeon's back and, putting a leg on each side of him as men do on horseback, he exclaimed joyfully:
"Gallop, gallop, my little horse, for I am anxious to arrive quickly!"
The Pigeon took flight and in a few minutes had soared so high that they almost touched the clouds. Finding himself at such an immense height the puppet had the curiosity to turn and look down; but his head spun round and he became so frightened to save himself from the danger of falling he wound his arms tightly round the neck of his feathered steed.
They flew all day. Towards evening the Pigeon said:
"I am very thirsty!"
"And I am very hungry!" rejoined Pinocchio.
"Let us stop at that dovecote for a few minutes and then we will continue our journey, so that we may reach the seashore by dawn tomorrow."
They went into a deserted dovecote, where they found nothing but a basin full of water and a basket full of vetch.
The puppet had never in his life been able to eat vetch: according to him it made him sick. That evening, however, he ate to repletion, and when he had nearly emptied the basket he turned to the Pigeon and said to him:
"I never could have believed that vetch was so good!"
"Be assured, my boy," replied the Pigeon, "that when hunger is real, and there is nothing else to eat, even vetch becomes delicious. Hunger knows neither caprice nor greediness."
Having quickly finished their little meal they recommenced their journey and flew away. The following morning they reached the seashore.
The Pigeon placed Pinocchio on the ground and, not wishing to be troubled with thanks for having done a good action, flew quickly away and disappeared.
The shore was crowded with people who were looking out to sea, shouting and gesticulating.
"What has happened?" asked Pinocchio of an old woman.
"A poor father who has lost his son has gone away in a boat to search for him on the other side of the water, and today the sea is tempestuous and the little boat is in danger of sinking."
"Where is the little boat?"
"It is out there in a line with my finger," said the old woman, pointing to a little boat which, seen at that distance, looked like a nutshell with a very little man in it.
Pinocchio fixed his eyes on it and after looking attentively he gave a piercing scream, crying:
"It is my papa! It is my papa!"
The boat, meanwhile, beaten by the fury of the waves, at one moment disappeared in the trough of the sea, and the next came again to the surface. Pinocchio, standing on the top of a high rock, kept calling to his father by name, and making every kind of signal to him with his hands, his handkerchief, and his cap.
And, although he was so far off, Geppetto appeared to recognize his son, for he also took off his cap and waved it, and tried by gestures to make him understand that he would have returned if it had been possible, but that the sea was so tempestuous that he could not use his oars or approach the shore.
Suddenly a tremendous wave rose and the boat disappeared. They waited, hoping it would come again to the surface, but it was seen no more.
"Poor man!" said the fishermen who were assembled on the shore; murmuring a prayer, they turned to go home.
Just then they heard a desperate cry and, looking back, they saw a little boy who exclaimed, as he jumped from a rock into the sea:
"I will save my papa!"
Pinocchio, being made of wood, floated easily and he swam like a fish. At one moment they saw him disappear under the water, carried down by the fury of the waves, and next he reappeared struggling with a leg or an arm. At last they lost sight of him and he was seen no more.
Pinocchio Braves the Sea to Save His Father
Pinocchio, hoping to be in time to help his father, swam the whole night.
And what a horrible night it was! The rain came down in torrents, it hailed, the thunder was frightful, and the flashes of lightning made it as light as day.
Towards morning he saw a long strip of land not far off. It was an island in the midst of the sea.
He tried his utmost to reach the shore, but it was all in vain. The waves, racing and tumbling over each other, knocked him about as if he had been a stick or a wisp of straw. At last, fortunately for him, a billow rolled up with such fury and impetuosity that he was lifted up and thrown far on to the sands.
He fell with such force that, as he struck the ground, his ribs and all his joints cracked, but he comforted himself, saying:
"This time also I have made a wonderful escape!"
Little by little the sky cleared, the sun shone out in all his splendor, and the sea became as quiet and as smooth as oil.
The puppet put his clothes in the sun to dry and began to look in every direction in hopes of seeing on the vast expanse of water a little boat with a little man in it. But, although he looked and looked, he could see nothing but the sky, and the sea, and the sail of some ship, but so far away that it seemed no bigger than a fly.
"If I only knew what this island was called!" he said to himself. "If I only knew whether it was inhabited by civilized people—I mean, by people who have not the bad habit of hanging boys to the branches of the trees. But whom can I ask? Whom, if there is nobody?"
This idea of finding himself alone, alone, all alone, in the midst of this great uninhabited country, made him so melancholy that he was just beginning to cry. But at that moment, at a short distance from the shore, he saw a big fish swimming by; it was going quietly on its own business with its head out of the water.
Not knowing its name, the puppet called to it in a loud voice to make himself heard:
"Eh, Sir Fish, will you permit me a word with you?"
"Two if you like," answered the fish, who was a Dolphin, and so polite that few similar are to be found in any sea in the world.
"Will you be kind enough to tell me if there are villages in this island where it would be possible to obtain something to eat, without running the danger of being eaten?"
"Certainly there are," replied the Dolphin. "Indeed, you will find one at a short distance from here."
"And what road must I take to go there?"
"You must take that path to your left and follow your nose. You cannot make a mistake."
"Will you tell me another thing? You who swim about the sea all day and all night, have you by chance met a little boat with my papa in it?"
"And who is your papa?"
"He is the best papa in the world, whilst it would be difficult to find a worse son than I am."
"During the terrible storm last night," answered the Dolphin, "the little boat must have gone to the bottom."
"And my papa?"
"He must have been swallowed by the terrible Dog-Fish, who for some days past has been spreading devastation and ruin in our waters."
"Is this Dog-Fish very big?" asked Pinocchio, who was already beginning to quake with fear.
"Big!" replied the Dolphin. "That you may form some idea of his size, I need only tell you that he is bigger than a five-storied house, and that his mouth is so enormous and so deep that a railway train with its smoking engine could pass down his throat."
"Mercy upon us!" exclaimed the terrified puppet; and, putting on his clothes with the greatest haste, he said to the Dolphin:
"Good-bye, Sir Fish; excuse the trouble I have given you, and many thanks for your politeness."
He then took the path that had been pointed out to him and began to walk fast—so fast, indeed, that he was almost running. And at the slightest noise he turned to look behind him, fearing that he might see the terrible Dog-Fish with a railway train in its mouth following him.
After a walk of half an hour he reached a little village called "The Village of the Industrious Bees." The road was alive with people running here and there to attend to their business; all were at work, all had something to do. You could not have found an idler or a vagabond, not even if you had searched for him with a lighted lamp.
"Ah!" said that lazy Pinocchio at once, "I see that this village will never suit me! I wasn't born to work!"
In the meanwhile he was tormented by hunger, for he had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours—not even vetch. What was he to do?
There were only two ways by which he could obtain food—either by asking for a little work, or by begging for a nickel or for a mouthful of bread.
He was ashamed to beg, for his father had always preached to him that no one had a right to beg except the aged and the infirm. The really poor in this world, deserving of compassion and assistance, are only those who from age or sickness are no longer able to earn their own bread with the labor of their hands. It is the duty of every one else to work; and if they will not work, so much the worse for them if they suffer from hunger.
At that moment a man came down the road, tired and panting for breath. He was dragging, alone, with fatigue and difficulty, two carts full of charcoal.
Pinocchio, judging by his face that he was a kind man, approached him and, casting down his eyes with shame, he said to him in a low voice:
"Would you have the charity to give me a nickel, for I am dying of hunger?"
"You shall have not only a nickel," said the man, "but I will give you a quarter, provided that you help me to drag home these two carts of charcoal."
"I am surprised at you!" answered the puppet in a tone of offense. "Let me tell you that I am not accustomed to do the work of a donkey: I have never drawn a cart!"
"So much the better for you," answered the man. "Then, my boy, if you are really dying of hunger, eat two fine slices of your pride, and be careful not to get indigestion."
A few minutes afterwards a mason passed down the road carrying on his shoulders a basket of lime.
"Would you have the charity, good man, to give a nickel to a poor boy who is yawning for want of food?"
"Willingly," answered the man. "Come with me and carry the lime, and instead of a nickel I will give you a quarter."
"But the lime is heavy," objected Pinocchio, "and I don't want to tire myself."
"If you don't want to tire yourself, then, my boy, amuse yourself with yawning, and much good may it do you."
In less than half an hour twenty other people went by, and Pinocchio asked charity of them all, but they all answered:
"Are you not ashamed to beg? Instead of idling about the roads, go and look for a little work and learn to earn your bread."
At last a nice little woman carrying two cans of water came by.
"Will you let me drink a little water out of your can?" asked Pinocchio, who was burning with thirst.
"Drink, my boy, if you wish it!" said the little woman, setting down the two cans.
Pinocchio drank like a fish, and as he dried his mouth he mumbled:
"I have quenched my thirst. If I could only appease my hunger!"
The good woman, hearing these words, said at once:
"If you will help me to carry home these two cans of water I will give you a fine piece of bread."
Pinocchio looked at the can and answered neither yes nor no.
"And besides the bread you shall have a nice dish of cauliflower dressed with oil and vinegar," added the good woman.
Pinocchio gave another look at the can and answered neither yes nor no.
"And after the cauliflower I will give you a beautiful bonbon full of syrup."
The temptation of this last dainty was so great that Pinocchio could resist no longer and with an air of decision he said:
"I must have patience! I will carry the can to your house."
The can was heavy and the puppet, not being strong enough to carry it in his hand, had to resign himself to carry it on his head.
When they reached the house the good little woman made Pinocchio sit down at a small table already laid and she placed before him the bread, the cauliflower and the bonbon.
Pinocchio did not eat, he devoured. His stomach was like an apartment that had been left empty and uninhabited for five months.
When his ravenous hunger was somewhat appeased he raised his head to thank his benefactress, but he had no sooner looked at her than he gave a prolonged "Oh-h!" of astonishment and continued staring at her with wide open eyes, his fork in the air, and his mouth full of bread and cauliflower, as if he had been bewitched.
"What has surprised you so much?" asked the good woman, laughing.
"It is—" answered the puppet, "it is—it is—that you are like—that you remind me—yes, yes, yes, the same voice—the same eyes—the same hair—yes, yes, yes—you also have blue hair—as she had—Oh, little Fairy! tell me that it is you, really you! Do not make me cry any more! If you knew—I have cried so much, I have suffered so much."
And, throwing himself at her feet on the floor, Pinocchio embraced the knees of the mysterious little woman and began to cry bitterly.
"School Gives Me Pain All Over the Body"
At first the good little woman maintained that she was not the little Fairy with blue hair, but, seeing that she was found out and not wishing to continue the comedy any longer, she ended by making herself known, and she said to Pinocchio:
"You little rogue! how did you ever discover who I was?"
"It was my great affection for you that told me."
"Do you remember? You left me a child, and now that you have found me again I am a woman—a woman almost old enough to be your mamma."
"I am delighted at that, for now, instead of calling you little sister, I will call you mamma. I have wished for such a long time to have a mamma like other boys! But how did you manage to grow so fast?"
"That is a secret."
"Teach it to me, for I should also like to grow. Don't you see? I always remain no bigger than a ninepin."
"But you cannot grow," replied the Fairy.
"Why?"
"Because puppets never grow. They are born puppets, live puppets, and die puppets."
"Oh, I am sick of being a puppet!" cried Pinocchio, giving himself a slap. "It is time that I became a man."
"And you will become one, if you know how to deserve it."
"Not really? And what can I do to deserve it?"
"A very easy thing: by learning to be a good boy."
"And you think I am not?"
"You are quite the contrary. Good boys are obedient, and you—"
"And I never obey."
"Good boys like to learn and to work, and you—"
"And I instead lead an idle, vagabond life the year through."
"Good boys always speak the truth."
"And I always tell lies."
"Good boys go willingly to school."
"And school gives me pain all over the body. But from today I will change my life."
"Do you promise me?"
"I promise you. I will become a good little boy, and I will be the consolation of my papa. Where is my poor papa at this moment?"
"I do not know."
"Shall I ever have the happiness of seeing him again and kissing him?"
"I think so; indeed, I am sure of it."
At this answer Pinocchio was so delighted that he took the Fairy's hands and began to kiss them with such fervor that he seemed beside himself. Then, raising his face and looking at her lovingly, he asked:
"Tell me, little mamma: then it was not true that you were dead?"
"It seems not," said the Fairy, smiling.
"If you only knew the sorrow I felt and the tightening of my throat when I read, 'Here lies—'"
"I know it, and it is on that account that I have forgiven you. I saw from the sincerity of your grief that you had a good heart; and when boys have good hearts, even if they are scamps and have got bad habits, there is always something to hope for; that is, there is always hope that they will turn to better ways. That is why I came to look for you here. I will be your mamma."
"Oh, how delightful!" shouted Pinocchio, jumping for joy.
"You must obey me and do everything that I bid you."
"Willingly, willingly, willingly!"
"Tomorrow," rejoined the Fairy, "you will begin to go to school."
Pinocchio became at once a little less joyful.
"Then you must choose an art, or a trade, according to your own wishes."
Pinocchio became very grave.
"What are you muttering between your teeth?" asked the Fairy in an angry voice.
"I was saying," moaned the puppet in a low voice, "that it seemed to me too late for me to go to school now."
"No, sir. Keep it in mind that it is never too late to learn and to instruct ourselves."
"But I do not wish to follow either an art or a trade."
"Why?"
"Because it tires me to work."
"My boy," said the Fairy, "those who talk in that way end almost always either in prison or in the hospital. Let me tell you that every man, whether he is born rich or poor, is obliged to do something in this world—to occupy himself, to work. Woe to those who lead slothful lives. Sloth is a dreadful illness and must be cured at once, in childhood. If not, when we are old it can never be cured."
Pinocchio was touched by these words and, lifting his head quickly, he said to the Fairy:
"I will study, I will work, I will do all that you tell me, for indeed I have become weary of being a puppet, and I wish at any price to become a boy. You promised me that I should, did you not?"
"I did promise you, and it now depends upon yourself."
Pinocchio Starts Off Happily for School
The following day Pinocchio went to the government school. Imagine the delight of all the little rogues, when they saw a puppet walk into their school! They set up a roar of laughter that never ended. They played him all sorts of tricks. One boy carried off his cap, another pulled his jacket behind; one tried to give him a pair of inky mustachios just under his nose, and another attempted to tie strings to his feet and hands to make him dance.
For a short time Pinocchio pretended not to care and got on as well as he could; but at last, losing all patience, he turned to those who were teasing him most and making game of him, and said to them, looking very angry:
"Beware, boys! I have not come here to be your buffoon. I respect others, and I intend to be respected."
"Oh, I Am Sick of Being a Puppet!Cried Pinocchio"Oh, I Am Sick of Being a Puppet!"
"Well said, boaster! You have spoken like a book!" howled the young rascals, convulsed with mad laughter, and one of them, more impertinent than the others, stretched out his hand, intending to seize the puppet by the end of his nose.
But he was not in time, for Pinocchio stuck his leg out from under the table and gave him a great kick on his shins.
"Oh, what hard feet!" roared the boy, rubbing the bruise that the puppet had given him.
"And what elbows! even harder than his feet!" said another, who for his rude tricks had received a blow in the stomach.
But, nevertheless, the kick and the blow acquired at once for Pinocchio the sympathy and the esteem of all the boys in the school. They all made friends with him and liked him heartily.
And even the master praised him, for he found him attentive, studious and intelligent—always the first to come to school, and the last to leave when school was over.
But he had one fault: he made too many friends, and amongst them were several young rascals well known for their dislike to study and love of mischief.
The master warned him every day, and even the good Fairy never failed to tell him and to repeat constantly:
"Take care, Pinocchio! Those bad school-fellows of yours will end sooner or later by making you lose all love of study, and perhaps they may even bring upon you some great misfortune."
"There is no fear of that!" answered the puppet, shrugging his shoulders and touching his forehead as much as to say: "There is so much sense here!"
Now it happened that one fine day, as he was on his way to school, he met several of his usual companions who, coming up to him, asked:
"Have you heard the great news?"
"No."
"In the sea near here a Dog-Fish has appeared as big as a mountain."
"Not really? Can it be the same Dog-Fish that was there when my papa was drowned?"
"We are going to the shore to see him. Will you come with us?"
"No; I am going to school."
"What matters school? We can go to school tomorrow. Whether we have a lesson more or a lesson less, we shall always remain the same donkeys."
"But what will the master say?"
"The master may say what he likes. He is paid on purpose to grumble all day."
"And my mamma?"
"Mammas know nothing," answered those bad little boys.
"Do you know what I will do?" said Pinocchio. "I have reasons for wishing to see the Dog-Fish, but I will go and see him when school is over."
"Poor donkey!" exclaimed one of the number. "Do you suppose that a fish of that size will wait your convenience? As soon as he is tired of being here he will start for another place, and then it will be too late."
"How long does it take to go from here to the shore?" asked the puppet.
"We can be there and back in an hour."
"Then away!" shouted Pinocchio, "and he who runs fastest is the best!"
Having thus given the signal to start, the boys, with their books and copy-books under their arms, rushed off across the fields, and Pinocchio was always the first—he seemed to have wings to his feet.
From time to time he turned to jeer at his companions, who were some distance behind, and, seeing them panting for breath, covered with dust, and their tongues hanging out of their mouths, he laughed heartily. The unfortunate boy little knew what terrors and horrible disasters he was going to meet with!
The Boys Threw Their Books at Poor Pinocchio
When he arrived on the shore Pinocchio looked out to sea, but he saw no Dog-Fish. The sea was as smooth as a great crystal mirror.
"Where is the Dog-Fish?" he asked, turning to his companions.
"He must have gone to have his breakfast," said one of them, laughing.
"Or he has thrown himself on to his bed to have a little nap," added another, laughing still louder.
From their absurd answers and silly laughter Pinocchio perceived that his companions had been making a fool of him, in inducing him to believe a tale with no truth in it. Taking it very badly, he said to them angrily:
"And now, may I ask what fun you could find in deceiving me with the story of the Dog-Fish?"
"Oh, it was great fun!" answered the little rascals in chorus.
"And in what did it consist?"
"In making you miss school and persuading you to come with us. Are you not ashamed of being always so punctual and so diligent with your lessons? Are you not ashamed of studying so hard?"
"And if I study hard, what concern is it of yours?"
"It concerns us excessively, because it makes us appear in a bad light to the master."
"Why?"
"Because boys who study make those who, like us, have no wish to learn, seem worse by comparison. And that is too bad. We, too, have our pride!"
"Then what must I do to please you?"
"You must follow our example and hate school, lessons, and the master—our three greatest enemies."
"And if I wish to continue my studies?"
"In that case we will have nothing more to do with you, and at the first opportunity we will make you pay for it."
"Really," said the puppet, shaking his head, "you make me inclined to laugh."
"Eh, Pinocchio" shouted the biggest of the boys, confronting him. "None of your superior airs: don't come here to crow over us, for if you are not afraid of us, we are not afraid of you. Remember that you are one against seven of us."
"Seven, like the seven deadly sins," said Pinocchio, with a shout of laughter.
"Listen to him! He has insulted us all! He called us the seven deadly sins!"
"Take that to begin with and keep it for your supper tonight," said one of the boys.
And, so saying, he gave him a blow on the head with his fist.
But it was give and take; for the puppet, as was to be expected, immediately returned the blow, and the fight in a moment became general and desperate.
Pinocchio, although he was one alone, defended himself like a hero. He used his feet, which were of the hardest wood, to such purpose that he kept his enemies at a respectful distance. Wherever they touched they left a bruise by way of reminder.
The boys, becoming furious at not being able to measure themselves hand to hand with the puppet, had recourse to other weapons. Loosening their satchels, they commenced throwing their school-books at him—grammars, dictionaries, spelling-books, geography books, and other scholastic works. But Pinocchio was quick and had sharp eyes, and always managed to duck in time, so that the books passed over his head and all fell into the sea.
Imagine the astonishment of the fish! Thinking that the books were something to eat they all arrived in shoals, but, having tasted a page or two, or a frontispiece, they spat it quickly out and made a wry face that seemed to say: "It isn't food for us; we are accustomed to something much better!"
The battle meantime had become fiercer than ever, when a big crab, who had come out of the water and had climbed slowly up on the shore, called out in a hoarse voice that sounded like a trumpet with a bad cold:
"Have done with that, you young ruffians, for you are nothing else! These hand-to-hand fights between boys seldom finish well. Some disaster is sure to happen!"
FOUR RABBITS AS BLACK AS INK ENTERED CARRYING A LITTLE BIER
Poor crab! He might as well have preached to the wind. Even that young rascal, Pinocchio, turning around, looked at him mockingly and said rudely:
"Hold your tongue, you tiresome crab! You had better suck some liquorice lozenges to cure that cold in your throat."
Just then the boys, who had no more books of their own to throw, spied at a little distance the satchel that belonged to Pinocchio, and took possession of it.
Amongst the books there was one bound in strong cardboard with the back and points of parchment. It was a Treatise on Arithmetic.
One of the boys seized this volume and, aiming at Pinocchio's head, threw it at him with all the force he could muster. But instead of hitting the puppet it struck one of his companions on the temple, who, turning as white as a sheet, said only:
"Oh, mother! help, I am dying!" and fell his whole length on the sand. Thinking he was dead, the terrified boys ran off as hard as their legs could carry them and in a few minutes they were out of sight.
But Pinocchio remained. Although from grief and fright he was more dead than alive, nevertheless he ran and soaked his handkerchief in the sea and began to bathe the temples of his poor school-fellow. Crying bitterly in his despair, he kept calling him by name and saying to him:
"Eugene! my poor Eugene! Open your eyes and look at me! Why do you not answer? I did not do it; indeed it was not I that hurt you so! believe me, it was not! Open your eyes, Eugene. If you keep your eyes shut I shall die, too. Oh! what shall I do? how shall I ever return home? How can I ever have the courage to go back to my good mamma? What will become of me? Where can I fly to? Oh! how much better it would have been, a thousand times better, if I had only gone to school! Why did I listen to my companions? they have been my ruin. The master said to me, and my mamma repeated it often: 'Beware of bad companions!' Oh, dear! what will become of me, what will become of me, what will become of me?"
And Pinocchio began to cry and sob, and to strike his head with his fists, and to call poor Eugene by his name. Suddenly he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
He turned and saw two soldiers.
"What are you doing there, lying on the ground?" they asked Pinocchio.
"I am helping my school-fellow."
"Has he been hurt?"
"So it seems."
"Hurt indeed!" said one of them, stooping down and examining Eugene closely.
"This boy has been wounded in the temple. Who wounded him?"
"Not I," stammered the puppet breathlessly.
"If it was not you, who then did it?"
"Not I," repeated Pinocchio.
"And with what was he wounded?"
"With this book." And the puppet picked up from the ground the Treatise on Arithmetic, bound in cardboard and parchment, and showed it to the soldier.
"And to whom does this belong?"
"To me."
"That is enough, nothing more is wanted. Get up and come with us at once."
"But I—"
"Come along with us!"
"But I am innocent."
"Come along with us!"
Before they left, the soldiers called some fishermen who were passing at that moment near the shore in their boat, and said to them:
"We give this boy who has been wounded in the head in your charge. Carry him to your house and nurse him. Tomorrow we will come and see him."
They then turned to Pinocchio and, having placed him between them, they said to him in a commanding voice:
"Forward! and walk quickly, or it will be the worse for you."
Without requiring it to be repeated, the puppet set out along the road leading to the village. But the poor little devil hardly knew where he was. He thought he must be dreaming, and what a dreadful dream! He was beside himself. He saw double; his legs shook; his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a word. And yet, in the midst of his stupefaction and apathy, his heart was pierced by a cruel thorn—the thought that he would pass under the windows of the good Fairy's house between the soldiers. He would rather have died.
They had already reached the village when a gust of wind blew Pinocchio's cap off his head and carried it ten yards off.
"Will you permit me," said the puppet to the soldiers, "to go and get my cap?"
"Go, then; but be quick about it."
The puppet went and picked up his cap, but instead of putting it on his head he took it between his teeth and began to run as hard as he could towards the seashore.
The soldiers, thinking it would be difficult to overtake him, sent after him a large mastiff who had won the first prizes at all the dog races. Pinocchio ran, but the dog ran faster. The people came to their windows and crowded into the street in their anxiety to see the end of the desperate race.
The Fisherman Put His Hand into the Net
There came a moment in this desperate race—a terrible moment—when Pinocchio thought himself lost: for Alidoro, the mastiff, had run so swiftly that he had nearly come up with him.
The puppet could hear the panting of the dreadful beast close behind him; there was not a hand's breadth between them, he could even feel the dog's hot breath.
Fortunately the shore was close and the sea but a few steps off.
As soon as he reached the sands the puppet made a wonderful leap—a frog could have done no better—and plunged into the water.
Alidoro, on the contrary, wished to stop himself, but, carried away by the impetus of the race, he also went into the sea. The unfortunate dog could not swim, but he made great efforts to keep himself afloat with his paws; but the more he struggled the farther he sank head downwards under the water.
When he rose to the surface again his eyes were rolling with terror, and he barked out:
"I am drowning! I am drowning!"
"Drown!" shouted Pinocchio from a distance, seeing himself safe from all danger.
"Help me, dear Pinocchio! Save me from death!"
At that agonizing cry the puppet, who had in reality an excellent heart, was moved with compassion, and, turning to the dog, he said:
"But if I save your life, will you promise to give me no further annoyance, and not to run after me?"
"I promise! I promise! Be quick, for pity's sake, for if you delay another half-minute I shall be dead."
Pinocchio hesitated; but, remembering that his father had often told him that a good action is never lost, he swam to Alidoro, and, taking hold of his tail with both hands, brought him safe and sound on to the dry sand of the beach.
The poor dog could not stand. He had drunk so much salt water that he was like a balloon. The puppet, however, not wishing to trust him too far, thought it more prudent to jump again into the water. When he had swum some distance from the shore he called out to the friend he had rescued:
"Good-bye, Alidoro; a good journey to you, and take my compliments to all at home."
"Good-bye, Pinocchio," answered the dog; "a thousand thanks for having saved my life. You have done me a great service, and in this world what is given is returned. If an occasion offers I shall not forget it."
Pinocchio swam on, keeping always near the land. At last he thought that he had reached a safe place. Giving a look along the shore, he saw amongst the rocks a kind of cave from which a cloud of smoke was ascending.
"In that cave," he said to himself, "there must be a fire. So much the better. I will go and dry and warm myself, and then? and then we shall see."
Having taken the resolution he approached the rocks, but, as he was going to climb up, he felt something under the water that rose higher and higher and carried him into the air. He tried to escape, but it was too late, for, to his extreme surprise, he found himself enclosed in a great net, together with a swarm of fish of every size and shape, who were flapping and struggling like so many despairing souls.
At the same moment a fisherman came out of the cave; he was so ugly, so horribly ugly, that he looked like a sea monster. Instead of hair his head was covered with a thick bush of green grass, his skin was green, his eyes were green, his long beard that came down to the ground was also green. He had the appearance of an immense lizard standing on its hind-paws.
When the fisherman had drawn his net out of the sea, he exclaimed with great satisfaction:
"Thank Heaven! Again today I shall have a splendid feast of fish!"
"What a mercy that I am not a fish!" said Pinocchio to himself, regaining a little courage.
The netful of fish was carried into the cave, which was dark and smoky. In the middle of the cave a large frying-pan full of oil was frying and sending out a smell of mushrooms that was suffocating.
"Now we will see what fish we have taken!" said the green fisherman, and, putting into the net an enormous hand, so out of all proportion that it looked like a baker's shovel, he pulled out a handful of fish.
"These fish are good!" he said, looking at them and smelling them complacently. And after he had smelled them he threw them into a pan without water.
He repeated the same operation many times, and as he drew out the fish his mouth watered and he said, chuckling to himself:
"What good whiting!"
"What exquisite sardines!"
"These soles are delicious!"
"And these crabs excellent!"
"What dear little anchovies!"
The last to remain in the net was Pinocchio.
No sooner had the fisherman taken him out than he opened his big green eyes with astonishment and cried, half frightened:
"What species of fish is this? Fish of this kind I never remember to have eaten."
And he looked at him again attentively and, having examined him well all over, he ended by saying:
"I know: he must be a craw-fish."
Pinocchio, mortified at being mistaken for a craw-fish, said in an angry voice:
"A craw-fish indeed! Do you take me for a craw-fish? what treatment! Let me tell you that I am a puppet."
"A puppet?" replied the fisherman. "To tell the truth, a puppet is quite a new fish for me. All the better! I shall eat you with greater pleasure."
"Eat me! but will you understand that I am not a fish? Do you hear that I talk and reason as you do?"
"That is quite true," said the fisherman; "and as I see that you are a fish possessed of the talent of talking and reasoning as I do, I will treat you with all the attention that is your due."
"And this attention?"
"In token of my friendship and particular regard, I will leave you the choice of how you would like to be cooked. Would you like to be fried in the frying-pan, or would you prefer to be stewed with tomato sauce?"
"To tell the truth," answered Pinocchio, "if I am to choose, I should prefer to be set at liberty and to return home."
"You are joking! Do you imagine that I would lose the opportunity of tasting such a rare fish? It is not every day, I assure you, that a puppet fish is caught in these waters. Leave it to me. I will fry you in the frying-pan with the other fish, and you will be quite satisfied. It is always consolation to be fried in company."
At this speech the unhappy Pinocchio began to cry and scream and to implore for mercy, and he said, sobbing: "How much better it would have been if I had gone to school! I would listen to my companions and now I am paying for it."
And he wriggled like an eel and made indescribable efforts to slip out of the clutches of the green fisherman. But it was useless: the fisherman took a long strip of rush and, having bound his hands and feet as if he had been a sausage, he threw him into the pan with the other fish.
He then fetched a wooden bowl full of flour and began to flour them each in turn, and as soon as they were ready he threw them into the frying-pan.
The first to dance in the boiling oil were the poor whitings; the crabs followed, then the sardines, then the soles, then the anchovies, and at last it was Pinocchio's turn. Seeing himself so near death, and such a horrible death, he was so frightened, and trembled so violently, that he had neither voice nor breath left for further entreaties.
But the poor boy implored with his eyes! The green fisherman, however, without caring in the least, plunged him five or six times in the flour, until he was white from head to foot and looked like a puppet made of plaster.