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  THE ADVENTURES OF PINOCCHIO

  by C. Collodi

  [Pseudonym of Carlo Lorenzini]

  Translated from the Italian by Carol Della Chiesa

  CHAPTER 1

  How it happened that Mastro Cherry, carpenter, found a piece of woodthat wept and laughed like a child.

  Centuries ago there lived--

  "A king!" my little readers will say immediately.

  No, children, you are mistaken. Once upon a time there was a piece ofwood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a commonblock of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on thefire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm.

  I do not know how this really happened, yet the fact remains thatone fine day this piece of wood found itself in the shop of an oldcarpenter. His real name was Mastro Antonio, but everyone called himMastro Cherry, for the tip of his nose was so round and red and shinythat it looked like a ripe cherry.

  As soon as he saw that piece of wood, Mastro Cherry was filled with joy.Rubbing his hands together happily, he mumbled half to himself:

  "This has come in the nick of time. I shall use it to make the leg of atable."

  He grasped the hatchet quickly to peel off the bark and shape the wood.But as he was about to give it the first blow, he stood still with armuplifted, for he had heard a wee, little voice say in a beseeching tone:"Please be careful! Do not hit me so hard!"

  What a look of surprise shone on Mastro Cherry's face! His funny facebecame still funnier.

  He turned frightened eyes about the room to find out where that wee,little voice had come from and he saw no one! He looked under thebench--no one! He peeped inside the closet--no one! He searched amongthe shavings--no one! He opened the door to look up and down thestreet--and still no one!

  "Oh, I see!" he then said, laughing and scratching his Wig. "It caneasily be seen that I only thought I heard the tiny voice say the words!Well, well--to work once more."

  He struck a most solemn blow upon the piece of wood.

  "Oh, oh! You hurt!" cried the same far-away little voice.

  Mastro Cherry grew dumb, his eyes popped out of his head, his mouthopened wide, and his tongue hung down on his chin.

  As soon as he regained the use of his senses, he said, trembling andstuttering from fright:

  "Where did that voice come from, when there is no one around? Might itbe that this piece of wood has learned to weep and cry like a child? Ican hardly believe it. Here it is--a piece of common firewood, goodonly to burn in the stove, the same as any other. Yet--might someone behidden in it? If so, the worse for him. I'll fix him!"

  With these words, he grabbed the log with both hands and started toknock it about unmercifully. He threw it to the floor, against the wallsof the room, and even up to the ceiling.

  He listened for the tiny voice to moan and cry. He waited twominutes--nothing; five minutes--nothing; ten minutes--nothing.

  "Oh, I see," he said, trying bravely to laugh and ruffling up his wigwith his hand. "It can easily be seen I only imagined I heard the tinyvoice! Well, well--to work once more!"

  The poor fellow was scared half to death, so he tried to sing a gay songin order to gain courage.

  He set aside the hatchet and picked up the plane to make the wood smoothand even, but as he drew it to and fro, he heard the same tiny voice.This time it giggled as it spoke:

  "Stop it! Oh, stop it! Ha, ha, ha! You tickle my stomach."

  This time poor Mastro Cherry fell as if shot. When he opened his eyes,he found himself sitting on the floor.

  His face had changed; fright had turned even the tip of his nose fromred to deepest purple.

  CHAPTER 2

  Mastro Cherry gives the piece of wood to his friend Geppetto, whotakes it to make himself a Marionette that will dance, fence, and turnsomersaults.

  In that very instant, a loud knock sounded on the door. "Come in," saidthe carpenter, not having an atom of strength left with which to standup.

  At the words, the door opened and a dapper little old man came in.His name was Geppetto, but to the boys of the neighborhood he wasPolendina,* on account of the wig he always wore which was just thecolor of yellow corn.

  * Cornmeal mush

  Geppetto had a very bad temper. Woe to the one who called him Polendina!He became as wild as a beast and no one could soothe him.

  "Good day, Mastro Antonio," said Geppetto. "What are you doing on thefloor?"

  "I am teaching the ants their A B C's."

  "Good luck to you!"

  "What brought you here, friend Geppetto?"

  "My legs. And it may flatter you to know, Mastro Antonio, that I havecome to you to beg for a favor."

  "Here I am, at your service," answered the carpenter, raising himself onto his knees.

  "This morning a fine idea came to me."

  "Let's hear it."

  "I thought of making myself a beautiful wooden Marionette. It must bewonderful, one that will be able to dance, fence, and turn somersaults.With it I intend to go around the world, to earn my crust of bread andcup of wine. What do you think of it?"

  "Bravo, Polendina!" cried the same tiny voice which came from no oneknew where.

  On hearing himself called Polendina, Mastro Geppetto turned the color ofa red pepper and, facing the carpenter, said to him angrily:

  "Why do you insult me?"

  "Who is insulting you?"

  "You called me Polendina."

  "I did not."

  "I suppose you think _I_ did! Yet I KNOW it was you."

  "No!"

  "Yes!"

  "No!"

  "Yes!"

  And growing angrier each moment, they went from words to blows, andfinally began to scratch and bite and slap each other.

  When the fight was over, Mastro Antonio had Geppetto's yellow wig in hishands and Geppetto found the carpenter's curly wig in his mouth.

  "Give me back my wig!" shouted Mastro Antonio in a surly voice.

  "You return mine and we'll be friends."

  The two little old men, each with his own wig back on his own head,shook hands and swore to be good friends for the rest of their lives.

  "Well then, Mastro Geppetto," said the carpenter, to show he bore him noill will, "what is it you want?"

  "I want a piece of wood to make a Marionette. Will you give it to me?"

  Mastro Antonio, very glad indeed, went immediately to his bench to getthe piece of wood which had frightened him so much. But as he was aboutto give it to his friend, with a violent jerk it slipped out of hishands and hit against poor Geppetto's thin legs.

  "Ah! Is this the gentle way, Mastro Antonio, in which you make yourgifts? You have made me almost lame!"

  "I swear to you I did not do it!"

  "It was _I_, of course!"

  "It's the fault of this piece of wood."

  "You're right; but remember you were the one to throw it at my legs."

  "I did not throw it!"

  "Liar!"

  "Geppetto, do not insult me or I shall call you Polendina."

  "Idiot."

  "Polendina!"

  "Donkey!"

  "Polendina!"

  "Ugly monkey!"

  "Polendina!"

  On hearing himself called Polendina for the third time, Geppetto losthis head with rage and threw himself upon the carpenter. Then and therethey gave each other a sound thrashing.

  After this fight, Mastro Antonio had two more scratches on his nose,and Geppetto had two buttons missing from his coat. Thus having settledtheir accounts, they shook hands and sw
ore to be good friends for therest of their lives.

  Then Geppetto took the fine piece of wood, thanked Mastro Antonio, andlimped away toward home.

  CHAPTER 3

  As soon as he gets home, Geppetto fashions the Marionette and calls itPinocchio. The first pranks of the Marionette.

  Little as Geppetto's house was, it was neat and comfortable. It was asmall room on the ground floor, with a tiny window under the stairway.The furniture could not have been much simpler: a very old chair, arickety old bed, and a tumble-down table. A fireplace full of burninglogs was painted on the wall opposite the door. Over the fire, therewas painted a pot full of something which kept boiling happily away andsending up clouds of what looked like real steam.

  As soon as he reached home, Geppetto took his tools and began to cut andshape the wood into a Marionette.

  "What shall I call him?" he said to himself. "I think I'll call himPINOCCHIO. This name will make his fortune. I knew a whole family ofPinocchi once--Pinocchio the father, Pinocchia the mother, and Pinocchithe children--and they were all lucky. The richest of them begged forhis living."

  After choosing the name for his Marionette, Geppetto set seriously towork to make the hair, the forehead, the eyes. Fancy his surprisewhen he noticed that these eyes moved and then stared fixedly at him.Geppetto, seeing this, felt insulted and said in a grieved tone:

  "Ugly wooden eyes, why do you stare so?"

  There was no answer.

  After the eyes, Geppetto made the nose, which began to stretch as soonas finished. It stretched and stretched and stretched till it became solong, it seemed endless.

  Poor Geppetto kept cutting it and cutting it, but the more he cut, thelonger grew that impertinent nose. In despair he let it alone.

  Next he made the mouth.

  No sooner was it finished than it began to laugh and poke fun at him.

  "Stop laughing!" said Geppetto angrily; but he might as well have spokento the wall.

  "Stop laughing, I say!" he roared in a voice of thunder.

  The mouth stopped laughing, but it stuck out a long tongue.

  Not wishing to start an argument, Geppetto made believe he saw nothingand went on with his work. After the mouth, he made the chin, then theneck, the shoulders, the stomach, the arms, and the hands.

  As he was about to put the last touches on the finger tips, Geppettofelt his wig being pulled off. He glanced up and what did he see? Hisyellow wig was in the Marionette's hand. "Pinocchio, give me my wig!"

  But instead of giving it back, Pinocchio put it on his own head, whichwas half swallowed up in it.

  At that unexpected trick, Geppetto became very sad and downcast, more sothan he had ever been before.

  "Pinocchio, you wicked boy!" he cried out. "You are not yet finished,and you start out by being impudent to your poor old father. Very bad,my son, very bad!"

  And he wiped away a tear.

  The legs and feet still had to be made. As soon as they were done,Geppetto felt a sharp kick on the tip of his nose.

  "I deserve it!" he said to himself. "I should have thought of thisbefore I made him. Now it's too late!"

  He took hold of the Marionette under the arms and put him on the floorto teach him to walk.

  Pinocchio's legs were so stiff that he could not move them, and Geppettoheld his hand and showed him how to put out one foot after the other.

  When his legs were limbered up, Pinocchio started walking by himself andran all around the room. He came to the open door, and with one leap hewas out into the street. Away he flew!

  Poor Geppetto ran after him but was unable to catch him, for Pinocchioran in leaps and bounds, his two wooden feet, as they beat on the stonesof the street, making as much noise as twenty peasants in wooden shoes.

  "Catch him! Catch him!" Geppetto kept shouting. But the people in thestreet, seeing a wooden Marionette running like the wind, stood still tostare and to laugh until they cried.

  At last, by sheer luck, a Carabineer* happened along, who, hearing allthat noise, thought that it might be a runaway colt, and stood bravelyin the middle of the street, with legs wide apart, firmly resolved tostop it and prevent any trouble.

  * A military policeman

  Pinocchio saw the Carabineer from afar and tried his best to escapebetween the legs of the big fellow, but without success.

  The Carabineer grabbed him by the nose (it was an extremely long one andseemed made on purpose for that very thing) and returned him to MastroGeppetto.

  The little old man wanted to pull Pinocchio's ears. Think how he feltwhen, upon searching for them, he discovered that he had forgotten tomake them!

  All he could do was to seize Pinocchio by the back of the neck and takehim home. As he was doing so, he shook him two or three times and saidto him angrily:

  "We're going home now. When we get home, then we'll settle this matter!"

  Pinocchio, on hearing this, threw himself on the ground and refused totake another step. One person after another gathered around the two.

  Some said one thing, some another.

  "Poor Marionette," called out a man. "I am not surprised he doesn't wantto go home. Geppetto, no doubt, will beat him unmercifully, he is somean and cruel!"

  "Geppetto looks like a good man," added another, "but with boys he's areal tyrant. If we leave that poor Marionette in his hands he may tearhim to pieces!"

  They said so much that, finally, the Carabineer ended matters by settingPinocchio at liberty and dragging Geppetto to prison. The poor oldfellow did not know how to defend himself, but wept and wailed like achild and said between his sobs:

  "Ungrateful boy! To think I tried so hard to make you a well-behavedMarionette! I deserve it, however! I should have given the matter morethought."

  What happened after this is an almost unbelievable story, but you mayread it, dear children, in the chapters that follow.

  CHAPTER 4

  The story of Pinocchio and the Talking Cricket, in which one sees thatbad children do not like to be corrected by those who know more thanthey do.

  Very little time did it take to get poor old Geppetto to prison. Inthe meantime that rascal, Pinocchio, free now from the clutches of theCarabineer, was running wildly across fields and meadows, taking oneshort cut after another toward home. In his wild flight, he leaped overbrambles and bushes, and across brooks and ponds, as if he were a goator a hare chased by hounds.

  On reaching home, he found the house door half open. He slipped intothe room, locked the door, and threw himself on the floor, happy at hisescape.

  But his happiness lasted only a short time, for just then he heardsomeone saying:

  "Cri-cri-cri!"

  "Who is calling me?" asked Pinocchio, greatly frightened.

  "I am!"

  Pinocchio turned and saw a large cricket crawling slowly up the wall.

  "Tell me, Cricket, who are you?"

  "I am the Talking Cricket and I have been living in this room for morethan one hundred years."

  "Today, however, this room is mine," said the Marionette, "and if youwish to do me a favor, get out now, and don't turn around even once."

  "I refuse to leave this spot," answered the Cricket, "until I have toldyou a great truth."

  "Tell it, then, and hurry."

  "Woe to boys who refuse to obey their parents and run away from home!They will never be happy in this world, and when they are older theywill be very sorry for it."

  "Sing on, Cricket mine, as you please. What I know is, that tomorrow,at dawn, I leave this place forever. If I stay here the same thing willhappen to me which happens to all other boys and girls. They are sent toschool, and whether they want to or not, they must study. As for me,let me tell you, I hate to study! It's much more fun, I think, to chaseafter butterflies, climb trees, and steal birds' nests."

  "Poor little silly! Don't you know that if you go on like that, youwill grow into a perfect donkey and that you'll be the laughingstock ofeveryone?"

  "Keep still, you ugly
Cricket!" cried Pinocchio.

  But the Cricket, who was a wise old philosopher, instead of beingoffended at Pinocchio's impudence, continued in the same tone:

  "If you do not like going to school, why don't you at least learn atrade, so that you can earn an honest living?"

  "Shall I tell you something?" asked Pinocchio, who was beginning to losepatience. "Of all the trades in the world, there is only one that reallysuits me."

  "And what can that be?"

  "That of eating, drinking, sleeping, playing, and wandering around frommorning till night."

  "Let me tell you, for your own good, Pinocchio," said the TalkingCricket in his calm voice, "that those who follow that trade always endup in the hospital or in prison."

  "Careful, ugly Cricket! If you make me angry, you'll be sorry!"

  "Poor Pinocchio, I am sorry for you."

  "Why?"

  "Because you are a Marionette and, what is much worse, you have a woodenhead."

  At these last words, Pinocchio jumped up in a fury, took a hammer fromthe bench, and threw it with all his strength at the Talking Cricket.

  Perhaps he did not think he would strike it. But, sad to relate, my dearchildren, he did hit the Cricket, straight on its head.

  With a last weak "cri-cri-cri" the poor Cricket fell from the wall,dead!

  CHAPTER 5

  Pinocchio is hungry and looks for an egg to cook himself an omelet; but,to his surprise, the omelet flies out of the window.