The Pinocchio Megapack: 4 Classic Puppet Tales

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The Pinocchio Megapack: 4 Classic Puppet Tales Page 34

by Carlo Collodi


  At length the night needed and Pinocchio arose. First of all he went to bid farewell to his friends in the circus, but they were no longer to be found. During the night the director had quietly stolen away with his company.

  “A pleasant journey to you!” said Pinocchio, and he began to search the ground for a forgotten piece of gold, or some precious stone which might have fallen from a lady’s diadem; but he found nothing.

  “What shall I do now? Shall I go to Africa or to school? It might be better to go to school, for the teacher says that I am a little behind in reading, writing, composition, history, geography, and arithmetic. In other subjects I am not so dull. Yes, yes; it will certainly do me more good to go to school. Then I shall be a dunce no longer.”

  Having made this sensible decision, the marionette started for home with the idea of studying his lessons and of going to school.

  CHAPTER 9

  Pinocchio Eats Dates

  Soon he met a man in a paper hat and a white apron. He was pushing a cart filled with a kind of fruit that Pinocchio had never seen before.

  “Dates! dates! fresh dates! sweet dates! real African dates!” came the cry.

  “Even he speaks of Africa!” thought Pinocchio. “Africa seems to follow me. But what has Africa to do with dates, and what are these dates? I have never heard of them.” The man stopped; Pinocchio stopped also. A lady bought some of the dates, and it happened that one of them fell on the ground. The marionette picked it up and handed it to her.

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “Keep it yourself; you have earned it.”

  The man with the cart went on, “Dates! dates! fresh dates! sweet dates! real African dates!”

  Pinocchio looked after him for a time and then put the date into his mouth. Great Caesar! How delicious! Never before had he tasted anything so sweet. The orange peel was nothing compared with this! What the circus people had told him, then, was really true!

  “To Africa I go,” he said, “even if I break a leg. What do I care about the Red Sea, the Yellow Sea, the Green, or any other sea? I will go!”

  And the rascal, forgetting his home and his father, who at that very moment was waiting to give him his breakfast, set out toward the sea.

  As he neared the water he heard a voice call, “Pinocchio! Pinocchio!”

  The marionette stopped and looked around, but seeing no one, he went on.

  “Pinocchio! Pinocchio! Be careful! You know not what you do!”

  “Farewell and many thanks,” answered the stubborn marionette, and forthwith stepped into the sea.

  “The water is like ice this morning. No wonder it makes me feel cold; but I know how to get rid of a chill. A good swim, and I am as warm as ever.” Out shot his arms and he plunged into the water. The journey to Africa had begun.

  At noon he still swam on. It grew dark and on he swam. Later the moon arose and grinned at him. He kept on swimming, without a sign of fatigue, of hunger, or of sleepiness. A marionette can do things that would tire a real boy, and to Pinocchio swimming was no task at all.

  CHAPTER 10

  Pinocchio Lands On A Rock

  The moon grinned again and disappeared behind a cloud. The night grew dark. Pinocchio continued to swim through the black waters. He could see nothing ahead. He swam, swam, swam into the dark. Suddenly he felt something scrape his body, and he gave a start.

  “Who goes there?” he cried. No one answered. “Perhaps it is my old friend the shark, who has recognized me,” thought he; and he rapidly swam on to get away from the spot which reminded him of that terrible monster.

  He had not gone more than fifty yards when his head ran against something rough and hard. “Oh!” cried the marionette, and he raised his hand to the injured part.

  Then, as he noticed a large rock standing out of the water, he cried joyously; “I have arrived! I am in Africa!”

  He got up on his feet and began to feel of himself all over, his ribs, his stomach, his legs. Everything was in order.

  “Nothing broken!” he said. “The rocks on the way have been very kind. However, I hope that day will break soon, for I have no matches, and it seems to me that I am very hungry.”

  Then he began to move on carefully. First he put down one foot and then the other, and thus crept along till he found a comfortable spot. “I seem to be very tired and sleepy also,” he said.

  With that, he lay down and went off in to a deep slumber.

  When he awoke it was daylight. The sun shone red and hot. There was nothing to be seen but rocks and water.

  “Is this Africa?” said the marionette, greatly troubled. “Even at dawn it seems to be very warm. When the sun gets a little higher I am likely to be baked.” And he wiped the sweat from his brow on his coat sleeve. Presently clouds began to rise out of the water. They grew darker and darker, and the day, instead of being bright, gradually became gloomy and overcast.

  The sun disappeared.

  “This is funny!” said Pinocchio. “What jokes the sun plays in these parts! It shines for a while and then disappears.”

  Poor marionette! It did not occur to him at first that he had slept the whole day, and that instead of the rising he saw the setting of the sun.

  CHAPTER 11

  The First Night In Africa

  “And now I must pass another night here alone on these bare rocks!” he thought.

  The unhappy marionette began to tremble. He tried to walk, but the night was so dark that it was impossible to see where to go. The tears rolled down his wooden cheeks. He thought of his disobedience and of his stubbornness. He remembered the warnings his father had given him, the advice of his teacher, and the kindly words of the good Fairy. He remembered the promises he had made to be good, obedient, and studious. How happy he had been! He recalled the day when his father’s face beamed with pleasure at his progress. He saw the happy smile with which his protecting Fairy greeted him. His tears fell fast, and sobs rent his heart.

  “If I should die, here in this gloomy place! If I should die of weariness, of hunger, of fear! To die a marionette without having had the happiness of becoming a real boy!”

  He wept bitterly, and yet his troubles had scarcely begun. Even while his tears were flowing down his cheeks and into the dark water, he heard prolonged howls. At the same time he saw lights moving to and fro, as if driven by the wind.

  “What in the world is this? Who is carrying those lanterns? asked Pinocchio, continuing to sob.

  As if in answer to his questions, two lights came down the rocky coast and drew nearer to him.

  Along with the lights came the howls, which sounded like those he had heard at the circus, only more natural and terrible.

  “I hope this will end well,” the marionette said to himself, “but I have some doubt about it.”

  He threw himself on the ground and tried to hide between the rocks. A minute later and he felt a warm breath on his face. There stood the shadowy form of a hyena, its open mouth ready to devour the marionette at one gulp.

  “I am done for!” and Pinocchio shut his eyes and gave a last thought to his dear father and his beloved Fatina. But the beast, after sniffing at him once or twice from head to foot, burst into aloud, howling laugh and walked away. He had no appetite for wooden boys.

  “May you never return! said Pinocchio, raising his head a little and straining his eyes to pierce the darkness about him. “Oh, if there were only a tree, or a wall, or anything to climb up on!”

  The marionette was right in wishing for something to keep him far above the ground. During the whole night these visitors were coming and going. They came around him howling, sniffing, laughing, mocking. As each one ran off, Pinocchio would say, “May you never return!” He lay there shivering in the agony of his terror. If the night had continued much longer, the poor fellow wo
uld have died of fright. But the dawn came at last. All these strange night visitors disappeared. Pinocchio tried to get up. He could not move. His legs and arms were stiff. A terrible weakness had seized him, and the world swam around him. Hunger overpowered him. The poor marionette felt that he should surely die. “How terrible,” he though, “to die of hunger! What would I not eat! Dry beans and cherry stems would be delicious.” He looked eagerly around, but there was not even a cricket or a snail in sight. There was nothing, nothing but rocks.

  Suddenly, however, a faint cry came from his parched throat. Was it possible? A few feet from him there was something between the rocks which looked like food. The marionette did not know what it was. He dragged himself along on hands and knees, and commenced to eat it. His nose wished to have nothing to do with it, and would even have drawn back, but the marionette said; “It is necessary to accustom yourself to all things, my friends. One must have patience. Don’t be afraid; if I find any roses, I promise to gather them for you.”

  The nose became quiet, the mouth ate, the hunger was satisfied, and when the meal was finished Pinocchio jumped to his feet and shouted joyously; “I have had my first meal in Africa. Now I must begin my search for wealth.” He forgot the night, his father, and Fatina. His only thought was to get farther away from home.

  What an easy thing life is to a wooden marionette!

  CHAPTER 12

  Pinocchio Is Well Received

  “First of all,” he said, “I must go to the nearest castle I can find. The master will not refuse me shelter and food. Some soup, a leg of roast chicken, and a glass of milk will put me in fine spirits.”

  The journey across the rocks was full of difficulties, but the marionette overcame them readily, leaping from rock to rock like a goat. He walked, walked, walked! The rocks seemed to have no ending, and the castle, which he imagined he saw in the distance, appeared to be always farther and farther away. As the marionette drew nearer, the towers began to disappear and the walls to crumble. He walked on broken-hearted. Finally he sat down I despair and put his head in his hands. “Farewell, castle! good-by, roast chicken and soup!” He was about to weep again when he saw in the distance a village of great beauty lying at the foot of a gentle slope.

  At the sight he gave a cry of joy and without a moment’s delay set out in that direction. He leaped over the rocks and bushes, putting to flight several flocks of birds in his haste. Of course only a marionette could go as fast as he did. “How beautiful Africa is! said he. “If I had known this I would have come here long ago.”

  In a short time he reached the main square of the town. Men, women, and children were lounging about, gossiping, buying, and selling. When they saw the marionette they gathered around him, and many began to shout: “It is Pinocchio! Look, here is Pinocchio! Pinocchio! Pinocchio!”

  “Well, this is strange!” said the marionette to himself. “I am known even in Africa. Surely I am a great person.”

  Like most great men, Pinocchio was annoyed at his noisy reception. In some anger he made his way through the crowd, pushing people right and left with his elbows. He ran down a side street and finally stopped before a restaurant, over which was the sign printed in huge letters: MARIONETTES SERVED HERE.

  “This is what I have been looking for,” said Pinocchio, and he went in.

  CHAPTER 13

  Pinocchio Is Arrested

  Pinocchio found himself facing a man of about fifty years of age. He was stout and good-natured, and like all good hosts, asked what the gentleman would have to eat. Pinocchio, hearing himself called “gentleman,” swelled with pride, and very gravely gave his order. He was served promptly, and devoured everything before him in a way known only to hungry marionettes.

  In the meantime the innkeeper eyed his customer from head to foot. He addressed Pinocchio in a very respectful manner, but the marionette gave only short answers. Persons of rank ate here, and to appear like one of them he could not allow himself to waste words on common folk.

  Having finished his meal, the marionette asked for something to drink.

  “What is this drink called?” he asked, as he put down the glass and thrust his thumb into his vest pocket after the manner of a gentleman.

  “Nectar, your excellency.”

  Upon hearing himself called “excellency” Pinocchio fairly lost his head. He felt a strange lightness in his feet; indeed, he found it hard work to resist the temptation to get up and dance. “I knew that in Africa I should make my fortune,” he thought, and called for a box of cigarettes.

  Having smoked one of these, the brave Pinocchio arose to go out, when the host handed him a sheet of paper on which was written a row of figures.

  “What is this?” asked the marionette.

  “The bill, your excellency; the amount of your debt for the dinner.”

  Pinocchio stroked his wooden chin and looked at the innkeeper in surprise.

  “Is there anything astonishing about that, your excellence? Is it not usual in your country to pay for what you eat?”

  “It is amazing! I do not know what you mean! What strange custom is this that you speak of?”

  “In these parts, your excellency,” remarked the innkeeper, “when one eats, one must pay. However, if your lordship has no money, and intends to live at the expense of others, I have a very good remedy. One minute!”

  So saying, the man stepped out of the door, uttered a curious sound, and then returned.

  Pinocchio lost his courage. He broke down and began to weep. He begged the man to have patience. The first piece of gold he found would pay for the meal. The innkeeper smiled as he said, “I am sorry, but the thing is done.”

  “What is done?” asked the marionette.

  “I have sent for the police.”

  “The police!” cried the marionette, shaking with fear. “The police! Even in Africa there are policemen? Please, sir, send them back! I do not want to go to prison.”

  All this was useless talk. Two black policemen were already there. Straight toward the marionette they went and asked his name.

  “Pinocchio,” he answered in a faint voice.

  “What is your business?”

  “I am a marionette.”

  “Why have you come to Africa?”

  “I will tell you,” replied Pinocchio, “You gentlemen must know that my poor father sold his coat to buy me a spelling book, and as I have heard that there is plenty of gold and silver in Africa, I have come here.”

  “What kind of talk is this?” asked the elder of the two policemen. “No nonsense! Show us your papers.”

  “What papers! I left all I had at school.”

  The policemen cut short the marionette’s words by taking out their handcuffs and preparing to lead him away to prison. But the innkeeper was a good-hearted man, and he was sorry for the poor blockhead. He begged them to leave Pinocchio in his charge.

  “So long as you are satisfied, we are satisfied,” said the policemen. “If you wish to give away your food, that is your own affair;” and they went off without saying another word.

  CHAPTER 14

  Pinocchio’s Father

  Pinocchio blushed with shame.

  “Then you are the marionette Pinocchio?”

  Upon hearing himself addressed in this familiar way, Pinocchio felt a little annoyed, but recalling the unsettled account, he thought it best to answer politely that he was Pinocchio.

  “I am pleased,” continued the man; “I am very much pleased, because I knew your father.”

  “You knew my father?” exclaimed the marionette.

  “Certainly I knew him! I was a servant in his house before you were born.”

  “In my house as a servant? When has father Geppetto had servants?” asked the marionette, his eyes wide with surprise.

  �
��But who said Geppetto? Geppetto is not your father’s name.”

  “Oh, indeed! Well, then, what is his name?”

  “Your father’s name is not Geppetto, but Collodi. A wonderful man, my boy.”

  Pinocchio understood less and less. It was strange, he thought, to have come to Africa to learn the story of his family. He listened with astonishment to all that the innkeeper said.

  “Remember, however, that even if you are not really the son of the good Geppetto, it does not follow that you should forget the care he has given you. What gratitude have you shown him? You ran away from home without even telling him. Who knows how unhappy the poor old man may be! You never will understand what suffering you cause your parents. Such blockheads as you are not fit to have parents. They work from morning till night so that you may want for nothing, and may grow up to be good and wise men, useful to yourselves, to your family, and to your country. What do you do? Nothing! You are worthless!”

  Pinocchio listened very thoughtfully. He had never expected that in Africa he was to hear so many disagreeable truths, and he was on the verge of weeping.

  “For your father’s sake you have been let off easily. From now on you may regard this as your home. I am not very rich, and I need a boy to help me. You will do. You may as well begin to work at once.” And he handed the marionette a large broom.

  Pinocchio was vexed at this, but the thought of the black policemen and the unsettled bill cooled his anger, and he swept as well as he knew how. “From a gentleman to a sweeper! What fine progress I have made!” he thought, as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

 

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