HE RETURNS TO THE FAIRY'S HOUSE
Just as the fisherman was on the point of throwing Pinocchio into the
frying-pan a large dog entered the cave, enticed there by the strong and
savory odor of fried fish.
"Get out!" shouted the fisherman, threateningly, holding the floured
puppet in his hand.
But the poor dog, who was as hungry as a wolf, whined and wagged his
tail as much as to say:
"Give me a mouthful of fish and I will leave you in peace."
"Get out, I tell you!" repeated the fisherman and he stretched out his
leg to give him a kick.
But the dog, who, when he was really hungry, would not stand trifling,
turned upon him, growling and showing his terrible tusks.
At that moment a little feeble voice was heard in the cave, saying
entreatingly:
"Save me, Alidoro! If you do not save me I shall be fried!"
The dog recognized Pinocchio's voice and, to his extreme surprise,
perceived that it proceeded from the floured bundle that the fisherman
held in his hand.
So what do you think he did? He made a spring, seized the bundle in his
mouth, and, holding it gently between his teeth, he rushed out of the
cave and was gone like a flash of lightning.
The fisherman, furious at seeing a fish he was so anxious to eat
snatched from him, ran after the dog, but he had not gone many steps
when he was taken with a fit of coughing and had to give it up.
Alidoro, when he had reached the path that led to the village, stopped
and put his friend Pinocchio gently on the ground.
"How much I have to thank you for!" said the puppet.
"There is no necessity," replied the dog. "You saved me and I have now
returned it. You know that we must all help each other in this world."
"But how came you to come to the cave?"
"I was lying on the shore more dead than alive when the wind brought to
me the smell of fried fish. The smell excited my appetite and I followed
it up. If I had arrived a second later--"
"Do not mention it!" groaned Pinocchio, who was still trembling with
fright. "Do not mention it! If you had arrived a second later I should
by this time have been fried, eaten and digested. Brrr! It makes me
shudder only to think of it!"
Alidoro, laughing, extended his right paw to the puppet, who shook it
heartily in token of great friendship, and they then separated.
The dog took the road home, and Pinocchio, left alone, went to a cottage
not far off and said to a little old man who was warming himself in the
sun:
"Tell me, good man, do you know anything of a poor boy called Eugene who
was wounded in the head?"
"The boy was brought by some fishermen to this cottage, and now--"
"And now he is dead!" interrupted Pinocchio with great sorrow.
"No, he is alive and has returned to his home."
"Not really? not really?" cried the puppet, dancing with delight. "Then
the wound was not serious?"
"It might have been very serious and even fatal," answered the little
old man, "for they threw a thick book bound in cardboard at his head."
"And who threw it at him?"
"One of his school-fellows, a certain Pinocchio."
"And who is this Pinocchio?" asked the puppet, pretending ignorance.
"They say that he is a bad boy, a vagabond, a regular good-for-nothing."
"Calumnies! all calumnies!"
"Do you know this Pinocchio?"
"By sight!" answered the puppet.
"And what is your opinion of him?" asked the little man.
"He seems to me to be a very good boy, anxious to learn, and obedient
and affectionate to his father and family."
Whilst the puppet was firing off all these lies, he touched his nose and
perceived that it had lengthened more than a hand. Very much alarmed he
began to cry out:
"Don't believe, good man, what I have been telling you. I know Pinocchio
very well and I can assure you that he is a very bad boy, disobedient
and idle, who, instead of going to school, runs off with his companions
to amuse himself."
He had hardly finished speaking when his nose became shorter and
returned to the same size that it was before.
"And why are you all covered with white?" asked the old man suddenly.
"I will tell you. Without observing it I rubbed myself against a wall
which had been freshly whitewashed," answered the puppet, ashamed to
confess that he had been floured like a fish prepared for the
frying-pan.
"And what have you done with your jacket, your trousers, and your cap?"
"I met with robbers, who took them from me. Tell me, good old man, could
you perhaps give me some clothes to return home in?"
"My boy, as to clothes, I have nothing but a little sack in which I keep
beans. If you wish for it, take it; there it is."
Pinocchio did not wait to be told twice. He took the sack at once and
with a pair of scissors he cut a hole at the end and at each side, and
put it on like a shirt. And with this slight clothing he set off for the
village.
But as he went he did not feel at all comfortable--so little so, indeed,
that for a step forward he took another backwards, and he said, talking
to himself:
"How shall I ever present myself to my good little Fairy? What will she
say when she sees me? Will she forgive me this second escapade? Oh, I am
sure that she will not forgive me! And it serves me right, for I am a
rascal. I am always promising to correct myself and I never keep my
word!"
When he reached the village it was night and very dark. A storm had come
on and as the rain was coming down in torrents he went straight to the
Fairy's house, resolved to knock at the door.
But when he was there his courage failed him and instead of knocking he
ran away some twenty paces. He returned to the door a second time and
laid hold of the knocker, and, trembling, gave a little knock.
He waited and waited. At last, after half an hour had passed, a window
on the top floor was opened--the house was four stories high--and
Pinocchio saw a big Snail with a lighted candle on her head looking out.
She called to him:
"Who is there at this hour?"
"Is the Fairy at home?" asked the puppet.
"The Fairy is asleep and must not be awakened; but who are you?"
"It is I."
"Who is I?"
"Pinocchio."
"And who is Pinocchio?"
"The puppet who lives in the Fairy's house."
"Ah, I understand!" said the Snail. "Wait for me there. I will come down
and open the door directly."
"Be quick, for pity's sake, for I am dying of cold."
"My boy, I am a snail, and snails are never in a hurry."
An hour passed, and then two, and the door was not opened. Pinocchio,
who was wet through and through, and trembling from cold and fear, at
last took courage and knocked again, and this time he knocked louder.
At this second knock a window on the lower story opened and the same
Snail appeared at it.
"Beautiful little Snail," cried Pinocchio from the street, "I have been
waiting for two hours! And two hours on such a bad night seem longer
than two years. Be quick, for pity's sake."
"My boy," answered the calm little animal--"my boy, I am a snail, and
snails are never in a hurry."
And the window was shut again.
Shortly afterwards midnight struck; then one o'clock, then two o'clock,
and the door remained still closed.
Pinocchio at last, losing all patience, seized the knocker in a rage,
intending to give a blow that would resound through the house. But the
knocker, which was iron, turned suddenly into an eel and, slipping out
of his hands, disappeared in the stream of water that ran down the
middle of the street.
"Ah! is that it?" shouted Pinocchio, blind with rage. "Since the knocker
has disappeared, I will kick instead with all my might."
And, drawing a little back, he gave a tremendous kick against the house
door. The blow was indeed so violent that his foot went through the wood
and stuck; and when he tried to draw it back again it was trouble thrown
away, for it remained fixed like a nail that has been hammered down.
Think of poor Pinocchio! He was obliged to spend the remainder of the
night with one foot on the ground and the other in the air.
The following morning at daybreak the door was at last opened. The
clever little Snail had taken only nine hours to come down from the
fourth story to the house-door. It is evident that her exertions must
have been great.
"What are you doing with your foot stuck in the door?" she asked the
puppet.
"It was an accident. Do try, beautiful little Snail, if you cannot
release me from this torture."
"My boy, that is the work of a carpenter, and I have never been a
carpenter."
"Beg the Fairy from me!"
"The Fairy is asleep and must not be awakened."
"But what do you suppose that I can do all day nailed to this door?"
"Amuse yourself by counting the ants that pass down the street."
"Bring me at least something to eat, for I am quite exhausted."
"At once," said the Snail.
In fact, after three hours and a half she returned to Pinocchio carrying
a silver tray on her head. The tray contained a loaf of bread, a roast
chicken, and four ripe apricots.
"Here is the breakfast that the Fairy has sent you," said the Snail.
The puppet felt very much comforted at the sight of these good things.
But when he began to eat them, what was his disgust at making the
discovery that the bread was plaster, the chicken cardboard, and the
four apricots painted alabaster.
He wanted to cry. In his desperation he tried to throw away the tray and
all that was on it; but instead, either from grief or exhaustion, he
fainted away.
When he came to himself he found that he was lying on a sofa, and the
Fairy was beside him.
"I will pardon you once more," the Fairy said, "but woe to you if you
behave badly a third time!"
Pinocchio promised and swore that he would study, and that for the
future he would always conduct himself well.
And he kept his word for the remainder of the year. Indeed, at the
examinations before the holidays, he had the honor of being the first in
the school, and his behavior in general was so satisfactory and
praiseworthy that the Fairy was very much pleased, and said to him:
"Tomorrow your wish shall be gratified."
"And that is?"
"Tomorrow you shall cease to be a wooden puppet and you shall become a
boy."
No one who had not witnessed it could ever imagine Pinocchio's joy at
this long-sighed-for good fortune. All his school-fellows were to be
invited for the following day to a grand breakfast at the Fairy's house,
that they might celebrate together the great event. The Fairy had
prepared two hundred cups of coffee and milk, and four hundred rolls cut
and buttered on each side. The day promised to be most happy and
delightful, but--
Unfortunately in the lives of puppets there is always a "but" that
spoils everything.
[Illustration]