CHAPTER XI
_And Now--Finished or Not Finished_
It was a beautiful morning, sparkling with sunshine and glory becausethe tricolor was waving from the windows of every house and the peoplein the streets had joy in their eyes and a smile on their lips. On theterrace of a handsome mansion, a terrace of marble decorated withexotic plants, at the end of which was a large stained-glass window, aman of mature age and military bearing was stretched out in areclining-chair. He was smoking a large meerschaum pipe and blew outsuch puffs of smoke that it seemed as if he were trying to obscure thesun. By his side was a soldier awaiting orders, and near by was astand on which a magnificent green parrot stood, scratching his headwith his claw and rolling his big yellow eyes.
"Heh! What do you say to that, Duretti? Are we or are we not great?To-day that we can say we have made Italy?"
"Now you see Italy The general has made so free ..."
chattered the wretch of a parrot.
"Be quiet, Coccorito; if you keep on with that nonsense I won't giveyou any sunflower seeds for a week. I'd like to know who trained himto be so impertinent during my absence. If it were not ..."
General Win-the-War started to get up, but a sudden twinge of painmade him cry out and keep still in his chair. After biting his lipsfor five minutes he began again to suck the mouthpiece of his pipe,and after smoking up the air for another five minutes he said:
"Heh! My dear Duretti, it is a great satisfaction to fight for thegreatness of one's country, and if it were not for that cursedAustrian shot which broke my leg I should like ..."
But Coccorito wouldn't let him finish and began to sing in hishorrible voice:
"Every day, Pe--pe--pe, When he grew great, The soldiers he ate, Ho, ho, ho!
He broke his leg, Or so he said, 'Tis gout, you know, Won't let him go ..."
The general groaned and threw with all the strength he had left hisbig meerschaum pipe at the bird. Coccorito would have come to a sadend if the god of parrots had not, as he always did, held hisprotecting hand over his tuft. The pipe grazed his head and fell inthe street, while he, with a strong tug at his light brass chain, flewoff and perched himself on the window-sill of the floor above, wherehe laughed loudly and cried:
"Ha, ha, ha! The general to the front set out, Felt a blow and down he fell, Because he suffers from the gout. He says his leg he broke--well, well-- For his King, for Italy He broke his leg--he, he, he, he!"
But Coccorito could now sing in peace and be as insolent as he likedbecause the general was no longer paying any attention to him, for twoexcellent reasons. First, because, in spite of his high rank, he wasnot great enough to reach up to the second-floor window; second, andmore important, because at the moment that his pipe fell in the streeta carriage stopped in front of the house and out of it got agentleman, a lady, and ... a small box they were carrying, and it wasagainst this box that the strange projectile fell, making such aclatter that the lady couldn't help uttering a few words of protest.Win-the-War, who never allowed any one to outdo him in courtesy, foundit necessary to explain matters, and with the help of his orderly gotup from his chair and dragged himself to the railing of the terrace.
"Pardon me, I beg you.... You are right to protest, but my pipe ...fell.... I threw it.... In short, it is all the fault of my parrot,who upset me and the pipe. Coccorito, show them at least ... so thatthe lady and gentleman may not believe ..."
"But don't imagine such a thing, General. Don't bother yourself ... itis no matter."
"Ha, ha, ha! The general to the front set out, Felt a blow and down he fell, Because he suffers from the gout. He says his leg he broke--well, well-- For his King, for Italy He broke his leg--he, he, he, he!"
Coccorito began again.
"Oh, you wretch! Did you hear him?"
"Don't apologize, General. I beg your pardon. Does old Geppetto livehere?"
"Yes, sir, on the floor above. Ring the second bell."
"Thank you."
"Not at all."
Old Geppetto was getting ready to mend an old table the legs of whichwere red with worm-holes and had in hand a piece of seasoned wood, asplendid piece. He was going to cut it with a hatchet and he hadlifted up his hand holding the shining tool, when who knows what queerthoughts made his arm fall heavily. Did he perhaps remember that otherfamous piece of wood from which the sprightly little old man hadshaped the wonderful puppet which had brought him so much bother andtrouble? And what had become of him? Why had he sent no news ofhimself since he had gone out into the world like a real boy? Perhapsthe poor little old man would have preferred to have him still at hisside, a puppet as he used to be, and of wood out of which he had madehim, than to be left thus alone in the last years of his life. He hadtried so often to make another Pinocchio, but he had never been ableto finish his work. His hands trembled; his eyes were no longer whatthey used to be, and even the wood--certainly it was the truth aboutthe wood--wasn't what it used to be.
When he heard the bell ring he felt his heart beat, and he ran to openthe door, swaying from side to side like a drunken man.
"Who's there?"
"It's I, Geppetto. Don't you recognize me?"
"My Fatina!"
"Yes, indeed, your Fatina who has come to introduce her husband, theBersaglierino, to you, and to see how you are, and to bring yousomebody you are fond of, very fond of," she replied, as they entered.
He gave her a long, questioning glance from beneath his spectacles;then he spied Pinocchio mischievously hiding behind Fatina and theBersaglierino.
"Oh, Fatina! Fatina! How did they bring my poor puppet to such astate?" sobbed Geppetto as he looked at Pinocchio. "What under the sunis all this machinery and these contraptions? I made him of wood, allof wood, and so splendidly that no one was ever able to imitate him.Why did you let them abuse him in this way? Wouldn't it have beenbetter if you had let him stay a _real boy_ than to bring him back tome in this condition?"
And the dear little old man couldn't contain himself and gave vent tohis sorrow in loud weeping.
Fatina and the Bersaglierino could find no words to comfort him withand looked at him compassionately, their own throats tightening. WhenPapa Geppetto had grown a little calmer he took his puppet in his armsand examined him carefully all over, shaking his head and drawing hislips tightly as if he wished to keep his sobs from bursting out again.He saw the artificial legs, the arm with its steel spring and thetweezers for hands; he saw the large silver plate which supported thebreastbone--admired all this up-to-date mechanism, but was not in theleast satisfied. The poor little old man preferred his wooden puppet_all of wood_ to the marrow ... and he no longer recognized _his_ oldPinocchio.
"Oh, Fatina!" he said, sighing, "who brought him to such a state?"
"Our country, dear friend."
"Our country?" and for a moment he stood there, his eyes wide openwith surprise. "Our country, did you say, Fatina?" Then he was lost inthought again.
While the old man was bending over Pinocchio, Fatina andBersaglierino quietly slipped out of the door. Papa Geppetto was againalone with his beloved puppet in the same room where he had firstcarved the little fellow out of pine wood.
Don't you remember how Pinocchio first broke up everything before heran away? How he knocked over the chest, rummaged the wardrobe, brokethe mirror, upset the little table, turned over the chairs, pulled thepictures off the walls, and tore down the window-curtains? And don'tyou remember how he left everything in a mess and ran out into thestreet wrapped in a flowered chintz curtain?
Well, Pinocchio was home again, and Papa Geppetto had long agorepaired the things Pinocchio had broken. Everything was in good orderexcept Pinocchio himself. That was what worried the old man. He didnot care much about the mirrors, wardrobes, or window-curtains, but he_did_ care about his little puppet friend whom he loved.
; It was getting dark and old Geppetto sat down in a large armchair andheld Pinocchio on his lap. As the shadows began to gather and the roomto get darker, Papa Geppetto began to nod and soon closed his eyes.With his arms clasped around Pinocchio, he went to sleep.
If you could now step quietly into the room, you would see both ofthem asleep. The old man's head was resting on Pinocchio's head, andPinocchio's on Geppetto's shoulder.
The little puppet was sleeping quietly, but the old man was not. Heseemed to be having a bad dream, judging from his sighs and groans.
"Oh, Pinocchio!" he said, aloud, in his sleep, "why did you run awayand go to the war? Just look at you! No legs, and one arm gone! I wishyou were my dear wooden puppet again."
Then the old man sighed, but kept on sleeping.
After about two hours Papa Geppetto awoke. It was now quite dark, butnot so dark that the old man could not see that some change had comeover Pinocchio. He looked down at the little sleeping puppet and whatdo you think he saw? Not artificial legs and an arm. Oh no! Pinocchiowas just as he was when he was first made. Pinocchio was again thelittle wooden puppet!
Papa Geppetto was so overcome with joy that he caught up Pinocchio inhis arms and hugged him so tight he nearly smothered the littlefellow. And Pinocchio threw his arms around the old man's neck andkissed the top of his bald head.
THE END
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