Adventures of Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi (summer reading list .TXT) 📕
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.
If the Cricket's death scared Pinocchio at all, it was only for a veryfew moments. For, as night came on, a queer, empty feeling at the pit ofhis stomach reminded the Marionette that he had eaten nothing as yet.
A boy's appetite grows very fast, and in a few moments the queer, emptyfeeling had become hunger, and the hunger grew bigger and bigger, untilsoon he was as ravenous as a bear.
Poor Pinocchio ran to the fire
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- Author: Carlo Collodi
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CHAPTER 21
Pinocchio is caught by a Farmer, who uses him as a watchdog for his chicken coop.
Pinocchio, as you may well imagine, began to scream and weep and beg; but all was of no use, for no houses were to be seen and not a soul passed by on the road.
Night came on.
A little because of the sharp pain in his legs, a little because of fright at finding himself alone in the darkness of the field, the Marionette was about to faint, when he saw a tiny Glowworm flickering by. He called to her and said:
“Dear little Glowworm, will you set me free?”
“Poor little fellow!” replied the Glowworm, stopping to look at him with pity. “How came you to be caught in this trap?”
“I stepped into this lonely field to take a few grapes and—”
“Are the grapes yours?”
“No.”
“Who has taught you to take things that do not belong to you?”
“I was hungry.”
“Hunger, my boy, is no reason for taking something which belongs to another.”
“It’s true, it’s true!” cried Pinocchio in tears. “I won’t do it again.”
Just then, the conversation was interrupted by approaching footsteps. It was the owner of the field, who was coming on tiptoes to see if, by chance, he had caught the Weasels which had been eating his chickens.
Great was his surprise when, on holding up his lantern, he saw that, instead of a Weasel, he had caught a boy!
“Ah, you little thief!” said the Farmer in an angry voice. “So you are the one who steals my chickens!”
“Not I! No, no!” cried Pinocchio, sobbing bitterly. “I came here only to take a very few grapes.”
“He who steals grapes may very easily steal chickens also. Take my word for it, I’ll give you a lesson that you’ll remember for a long while.”
He opened the trap, grabbed the Marionette by the collar, and carried him to the house as if he were a puppy. When he reached the yard in front of the house, he flung him to the ground, put a foot on his neck, and said to him roughly: “It is late now and it’s time for bed. Tomorrow we’ll settle matters. In the meantime, since my watchdog died today, you may take his place and guard my henhouse.”
No sooner said than done. He slipped a dog collar around Pinocchio’s neck and tightened it so that it would not come off. A long iron chain was tied to the collar. The other end of the chain was nailed to the wall.
“If tonight it should happen to rain,” said the Farmer, “you can sleep in that little doghouse near-by, where you will find plenty of straw for a soft bed. It has been Melampo’s bed for three years, and it will be good enough for you. And if, by any chance, any thieves should come, be sure to bark!”
After this last warning, the Farmer went into the house and closed the door and barred it.
Poor Pinocchio huddled close to the doghouse more dead than alive from cold, hunger, and fright. Now and again he pulled and tugged at the collar which nearly choked him and cried out in a weak voice:
“I deserve it! Yes, I deserve it! I have been nothing but a truant and a vagabond. I have never obeyed anyone and I have always done as I pleased. If I were only like so many others and had studied and worked and stayed with my poor old father, I should not find myself here now, in this field and in the darkness, taking the place of a farmer’s watchdog. Oh, if I could start all over again! But what is done can’t be undone, and I must be patient!”
After this little sermon to himself, which came from the very depths of his heart, Pinocchio went into the doghouse and fell asleep.
CHAPTER 22
Pinocchio discovers the thieves and, as a reward for faithfulness, he regains his liberty.
Even though a boy may be very unhappy, he very seldom loses sleep over his worries. The Marionette, being no exception to this rule, slept on peacefully for a few hours till well along toward midnight, when he was awakened by strange whisperings and stealthy sounds coming from the yard. He stuck his nose out of the doghouse and saw four slender, hairy animals. They were Weasels, small animals very fond of both eggs and chickens. One of them left her companions and, going to the door of the doghouse, said in a sweet voice:
“Good evening, Melampo.”
“My name is not Melampo,” answered Pinocchio.
“Who are you, then?”
“I am Pinocchio.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m the watchdog.”
“But where is Melampo? Where is the old dog who used to live in this house?”
“He died this morning.”
“Died? Poor beast! He was so good! Still, judging by your face, I think you, too, are a good-natured dog.”
“I beg your pardon, I am not a dog!”
“What are you, then?”
“I am a Marionette.”
“Are you taking the place of the watchdog?”
“I’m sorry to say that I am. I’m being punished.”
“Well, I shall make the same terms with you that we had with the dead Melampo. I am sure you will be glad to hear them.”
“And what are the terms?”
“This is our plan: We’ll come once in a while, as in the past, to pay a visit to this henhouse, and we’ll take away eight chickens. Of these, seven are for us, and one for you, provided, of course, that you will make believe you are sleeping and will not bark for the Farmer.”
“Did Melampo really do that?” asked Pinocchio.
“Indeed he did, and because of that we were the best of friends. Sleep away peacefully, and remember that before we go we shall leave you a nice fat chicken all ready for your breakfast in the morning. Is that understood?”
“Even too well,” answered Pinocchio. And shaking his head in a threatening manner, he seemed to say, “We’ll talk this over in a few minutes, my friends.”
As soon as the four Weasels had talked things over, they went straight to the chicken coop which stood close to the doghouse. Digging busily with teeth and claws, they opened the little door and slipped in. But they were no sooner in than they heard the door close with a sharp bang.
The one who had done the trick was Pinocchio, who, not satisfied with that, dragged a heavy stone in front of it. That done, he started to bark. And he barked as if he were a real watchdog: “Bow, wow, wow! Bow, wow!”
The Farmer heard the loud barks and jumped out of bed. Taking his gun, he leaped to the window and shouted: “What’s the matter?”
“The thieves are here,” answered Pinocchio.
“Where are they?”
“In the chicken coop.”
“I’ll come down in a second.”
And, in fact, he was down in the yard in a twinkling and running toward the chicken coop.
He opened the door, pulled out the Weasels one by one, and, after tying them in a bag, said to them in a happy voice: “You’re in my hands at last! I could punish you now, but I’ll wait! In the morning you may come with me to the inn and there you’ll make a fine dinner for some hungry mortal. It is really too great an honor for you, one you do not deserve; but, as you see, I am really a very kind and generous man and I am going to do this for you!”
Then he went up to Pinocchio and began to pet and caress him.
“How did you ever find them out so quickly? And to think that Melampo, my faithful Melampo, never saw them in all these years!”
The Marionette could have told, then and there, all he knew about the shameful contract between the dog and the Weasels, but thinking of the dead dog, he said to himself: “Melampo is dead. What is the use of accusing him? The dead are gone and they cannot defend themselves. The best thing to do is to leave them in peace!”
“Were you awake or asleep when they came?” continued the Farmer.
“I was asleep,” answered Pinocchio, “but they awakened me with their whisperings. One of them even came to the door of the doghouse and said to me, ‘If you promise not to bark, we will make you a present of one of the chickens for your breakfast.’ Did you hear that? They had the audacity to make such a proposition as that to me! For you must know that, though I am a very wicked Marionette full of faults, still I never have been, nor ever shall be, bribed.”
“Fine boy!” cried the Farmer, slapping him on the shoulder in a friendly way. “You ought to be proud of yourself. And to show you what I think of you, you are free from this instant!”
And he slipped the dog collar from his neck.
CHAPTER 23
Pinocchio weeps upon learning that the Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair is dead. He meets a Pigeon, who carries him to the seashore. He throws himself into the sea to go to the aid of his father.
As soon as Pinocchio no longer felt the shameful weight of the dog collar around his neck, he started to run across the fields and meadows, and never stopped till he came to the main road that was to take him to the Fairy’s house.
When he reached it, he looked into the valley far below him and there he saw the wood where unluckily he had met the Fox and the Cat, and the tall oak tree where he had been hanged; but though he searched far and near, he could not see the house where the Fairy with the Azure Hair lived.
He became terribly frightened and, running as fast as he could, he finally came to the spot where it had once stood. The little house was no longer there. In its place lay a small marble slab, which bore this sad inscription:
THE LOVELY FAIRY WITH AZURE HAIR
WHO DIED OF GRIEF
WHEN ABANDONED BY
HER LITTLE BROTHER PINOCCHIO
The poor Marionette was heartbroken at reading these words. He fell to the ground and, covering the cold marble with kisses, burst into bitter tears. He cried all night, and dawn found him still there, though his tears had dried and only hard, dry sobs shook his wooden frame. But these were so loud that they could be heard by the faraway hills.
As he sobbed he said to himself:
“Oh, my Fairy, my dear, dear Fairy, why did you die? Why did I not die, who am so bad, instead of you, who are so good? And my father—where can he be? Please dear Fairy, tell me where he is and I shall never, never leave him again! You are not really dead, are you? If you love me, you will come back, alive as before. Don’t you feel sorry for me? I’m so lonely. If the two Assassins come, they’ll hang me again from the giant oak tree and I will really die, this time. What shall I do alone in the world? Now that you are dead and my father is lost, where shall I eat? Where shall I sleep? Who will make my new clothes? Oh, I want to die! Yes, I want to die! Oh, oh, oh!”
Poor Pinocchio! He even tried to tear his hair, but as it was only painted on his wooden head, he could not even pull it.
Just then a large Pigeon flew far above him. Seeing the Marionette, he cried to him:
“Tell me, little boy, what are you doing there?”
“Can’t you see? I’m crying,” cried Pinocchio, lifting his head toward the voice and rubbing his eyes with his sleeve.
“Tell me,” asked the Pigeon, “do you by chance know of a Marionette, Pinocchio by name?”
“Pinocchio! Did you say Pinocchio?”
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