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PINOCCHIO

THE TALE OF A
PUPPET

By C COLLODI

[Illustration: "HOW MUCH DOES IT COST TO GO IN?"]

[Illustration]

PINOCCHIO

THE TALE OF A
PUPPET

By C COLLODI

Illustrated By
ALICE CARSEY

WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.
RACINE, WISCONSIN

COPYRIGHT 1916 BY
WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.
RACINE, WISCONSIN
PRINTED IN U.S.A.

Transcriber's Note:

The untitled illustration on page 26 was not listed in the List of
Illustrations of the source book.

In several cases, missing punctuation was added or wrong punctuation
removed.

The following typos were fixed:
thouand to thousand
Harelquin to Harlequin
pretrified to petrified

CONTENTS

Chap. Page
I THE PIECE OF WOOD THAT LAUGHED AND CRIED LIKE A CHILD 9
II MASTER CHERRY GIVES THE WOOD AWAY 12
III GEPPETTO NAMES HIS PUPPET PINOCCHIO 16
IV THE TALKING-CRICKET SCOLDS PINOCCHIO 23
V THE FLYING EGG 26
VI PINOCCHIO'S FEET BURN TO CINDERS 29
VII GEPPETTO GIVES HIS OWN BREAKFAST TO PINOCCHIO 31
VIII GEPPETTO MAKES PINOCCHIO NEW FEET 35
IX PINOCCHIO GOES TO SEE A PUPPET-SHOW 39
X THE PUPPETS RECOGNIZE THEIR BROTHER PINOCCHIO 42
XI FIRE-EATER SNEEZES AND PARDONS PINOCCHIO 45
XII PINOCCHIO RECEIVES A PRESENT OF FIVE GOLD PIECES 49
XIII THE INN OF THE RED CRAW-FISH 57
XIV PINOCCHIO FALLS AMONG ASSASSINS 61
XV THE ASSASSINS HANG PINOCCHIO TO THE BIG OAK 65
XVI THE BEAUTIFUL CHILD RESCUES THE PUPPET 71
XVII PINOCCHIO WILL NOT TAKE HIS MEDICINE 75
XVIII PINOCCHIO AGAIN MEETS THE FOX AND THE CAT 81
XIX PINOCCHIO IS ROBBED OF HIS MONEY 87
XX PINOCCHIO STARTS BACK TO THE FAIRY'S HOUSE 91
XXI PINOCCHIO ACTS AS WATCH-DOG 94
XXII PINOCCHIO DISCOVERS THE ROBBERS 97
XXIII PINOCCHIO FLIES TO THE SEASHORE 101
XXIV PINOCCHIO FINDS THE FAIRY AGAIN 109
XXV PINOCCHIO PROMISES THE FAIRY TO BE GOOD 116
XXVI THE TERRIBLE DOG-FISH 120
XXVII PINOCCHIO IS ARRESTED BY THE GENDARMES 126
XXVIII PINOCCHIO ESCAPES BEING FRIED LIKE A FISH 133
XXIX HE RETURNS TO THE FAIRY'S HOUSE 139
XXX THE "LAND OF BOOBIES" 147
XXXI PINOCCHIO ENJOYS FIVE MONTHS OF HAPPINESS 153
XXXII PINOCCHIO TURNS INTO A DONKEY 160
XXXIII PINOCCHIO IS TRAINED FOR THE CIRCUS 167
XXXIV PINOCCHIO IS SWALLOWED BY THE DOG-FISH 178
XXXV A HAPPY SURPRISE FOR PINOCCHIO 186
XXXVI PINOCCHIO AT LAST CEASES TO BE A PUPPET AND BECOMES A BOY 194

LINE ILLUSTRATIONS

DECORATIVE TITLE PAGE 1
THE RUNAWAY PUPPET 9
GEPPETTO CARRIED OFF HIS FINE PIECE OF WOOD 12
HE SET TO WORK TO CUT OUT HIS PUPPET 16
A LITTLE CHICKEN POPPED OUT 17
PINOCCHIO THREW HIS HAMMER AT THE TALKING-CRICKET 23
UNTITLED 26
POOR PINOCCHIO'S FEET BURN TO CINDERS 29
GEPPETTO MAKES HIS PUPPET SOME CLOTHES 35
THE PUPPETS BEGAN TO DANCE MERRILY 45
PINOCCHIO MEETS THE CAT AND THE FOX 49
SPLASH! SPLASH! THEY FELL INTO THE DITCH 52
DINNER AT THE RED CRAW-FISH INN 57
PINOCCHIO ESCAPES FROM HIS ASSASSINS 61
THEY HUNG PINOCCHIO TO THE BIG OAK TREE 65
FOUR RABBITS AS BLACK AS INK ENTERED 69
THE FALCON SAVES PINOCCHIO 71
PINOCCHIO REFUSES TO TAKE HIS MEDICINE 75
TREACHEROUS COMPANIONS 81
THE JUDGE WAS A BIG APE 87
PINOCCHIO GETS HIS FOOT CAUGHT IN A TRAP 94
THE NEW WATCH-DOG 97
PINOCCHIO'S WILD RIDE ON THE PIGEON'S BACK 101
AN IMMENSE SERPENT STRETCHED ACROSS THE ROAD 104
PINOCCHIO BRAVES THE SEA TO SAVE HIS FATHER 109
"SCHOOL GIVES ME PAIN ALL OVER THE BODY" 116
PINOCCHIO STARTS OFF HAPPILY FOR SCHOOL 120
"OH, I AM SICK OF BEING A PUPPET!" 121
THE BOYS THREW THEIR BOOKS AT POOR PINOCCHIO 126
THE FISHERMAN PUT HIS HAND INTO THE NET 133
THE DOG SEIZES PINOCCHIO AND ESCAPES 139
"HERE IS THE COACH!" SHOUTED CANDLEWICK 147
THEY ARRIVE IN THE "LAND OF THE BOOBIES" 153
THE BOYS ARE TURNED INTO DONKEYS 160
THE LITTLE DONKEYS ARE SOLD 167
ALL HIS FRIENDS WERE INVITED 172
THE PUPPET WAS WRIGGLING LIKE AN EEL 178
SWALLOWED BY THE DOG-FISH 186
IT WOULD BE MORE COMFORTABLE ON THE TUNNY'S BACK 189
THE BLIND CAT AND THE TAILLESS FOX 194

[Illustration]

PINOCCHIO

CHAPTER I

THE PIECE OF WOOD THAT LAUGHED AND CRIED LIKE A CHILD

There was once upon a time a piece of wood in the shop of an old
carpenter named Master Antonio. Everybody, however, called him Master
Cherry, on account of the end of his nose, which was always as red and
polished as a ripe cherry.

No sooner had Master Cherry set eyes on the piece of wood than his face
beamed with delight, and, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction,
he said softly to himself:

"This wood has come at the right moment; it will just do to make the leg
of a little table."

He immediately took a sharp axe with which to remove the bark and the
rough surface, but just as he was going to give the first stroke he
heard a very small voice say imploringly, "Do not strike me so hard!"

He turned his terrified eyes all around the room to try and discover
where the little voice could possibly have come from, but he saw nobody!
He looked under the bench--nobody; he looked into a cupboard that was
always shut--nobody; he looked into a basket of shavings and
sawdust--nobody; he even opened the door of the shop and gave a glance
into the street--and still nobody. Who, then, could it be?

"I see how it is," he said, laughing and scratching his wig, "evidently
that little voice was all my imagination. Let us set to work again."

And, taking up the axe, he struck a tremendous blow on the piece of
wood.

"Oh! oh! you have hurt me!" cried the same little voice dolefully.

This time Master Cherry was petrified. His eyes started out of his head
with fright, his mouth remained open, and his tongue hung out almost to
the end of his chin, like a mask on a fountain. As soon as he had
recovered the use of his speech he began to say, stuttering and
trembling with fear:

"But where on earth can that little voice have come from that said 'Oh!
oh!'? Is it possible that this piece of wood can have learned to cry and
to lament like a child? I cannot believe it. This piece of wood is
nothing but a log for fuel like all the others, and thrown on the fire
it would about suffice to boil a saucepan of beans. How then? Can anyone
be hidden inside it? If anyone is hidden inside, so much the worse for
him. I will settle him at once."

So saying, he seized the poor piece of wood and commenced beating it
without mercy against the walls of the room.

Then he stopped to listen if he could hear any little voice lamenting.
He waited two minutes--nothing; five minutes--nothing; ten
minutes--still nothing!

"I see how it is," he then said, forcing himself to laugh, and pushing
up his wig; "evidently the little voice that said 'Oh! oh!' was all my
imagination! Let us set to work again."

Putting the axe aside, he took his plane, to plane and polish the bit of
wood; but whilst he was running it up and down he heard the same little
voice say, laughing:

"Stop! you are tickling me all over!"

This time poor Master Cherry fell down as if he had been struck by
lightning. When he at last opened his eyes he found himself seated on
the floor.

His face was changed, even the end of his nose, instead of being
crimson, as it was nearly always, had become blue from fright.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER II

MASTER CHERRY GIVES THE WOOD AWAY

At that moment some one knocked at the door.

"Come in," said the carpenter, without having the strength to rise to
his feet.

A lively little old man immediately walked into the shop. His name was
Geppetto, but when the boys of the neighborhood wished to make him angry
they called him Pudding, because his yellow wig greatly resembled a
pudding made of Indian corn.

Geppetto was very fiery. Woe to him who called him Pudding! He became
furious and there was no holding him.

"Good-day, Master Antonio," said Geppetto; "what are you doing there on
the floor?"

"I am teaching the alphabet to the ants."

"Much good may that do you."

"What has brought you to me, neighbor Geppetto?"

"My legs. But to tell the truth. Master Antonio, I came to ask a favor
of you."

"Here I am, ready to serve you," replied the carpenter, getting on his
knees.

"This morning an idea came into my head."

"Let us hear it."

"I thought I would make a beautiful wooden puppet; one that could dance,
fence, and leap like an acrobat. With this puppet I would travel about
the world to earn a piece of bread and a glass of wine. What do you
think of it?"

"Bravo, Pudding!" exclaimed the same little voice, and it was impossible
to say where it came from.

Hearing himself called Pudding, Geppetto became as red as a turkey-cock
from rage and, turning to the carpenter, he said in a fury:

"Why do you insult me?"

"Who insults you?"

"You called me Pudding!"

"It was not I!"

"Do you think I called myself Pudding? It was you, I say!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

And, becoming more and more angry, from words they came to blows, and,
flying at each other, they bit and fought, and scratched.

When the fight was over Master Antonio was in possession of Geppetto's
yellow wig, and Geppetto discovered that the grey wig belonging to the
carpenter remained between his teeth.

"Give me back my wig," screamed Master Antonio.

"And you, return me mine, and let us be friends again."

The two old men having each recovered his own wig, shook hands and swore
that they would remain friends to the end of their lives.

"Well, then, neighbor Geppetto," said the carpenter, to prove that peace
was made, "what is the favor that you wish of me?"

"I want a little wood to make my puppet; will you give me some?"

Master Antonio was delighted, and he immediately went to the bench and
fetched the piece of wood that had caused him so much fear. But just as
he was going to give it to his friend the piece of wood gave a shake
and, wriggling violently out of his hands, struck with all of its force
against the dried-up shins of poor Geppetto.

"Ah! is that the courteous way in which you make your presents, Master
Antonio? You have almost lamed me!"

"I swear to you that it was not I!"

"Then you would have it that it was I?"

"The wood is entirely to blame!"

"I know that it was the wood; but it was you that hit my legs with it!"

"I did not hit you with it!"

"Liar!"

"Geppetto, don't insult me or I will call you Pudding!"

"Knave!"

"Pudding!"

"Donkey!"

"Pudding!"

"Baboon!"

"Pudding!"

On hearing himself called Pudding for the third time Geppetto, mad with
rage, fell upon the carpenter and they fought desperately.

When the battle was over, Master Antonio had two more scratches on his
nose, and his adversary had lost two buttons off his waistcoat. Their
accounts being thus squared, they shook hands and swore to remain good
friends for the rest of their lives.

Geppetto carried off his fine piece of wood and, thanking Master
Antonio, returned limping to his house.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER III

GEPPETTO NAMES HIS PUPPET PINOCCHIO

Geppetto lived in a small ground-floor room that was only lighted from
the staircase. The furniture could not have been simpler--a rickety
chair, a poor bed, and a broken-down table. At the end of the room there
was a fireplace with a lighted fire; but the fire was painted, and by
the fire was a painted saucepan that was boiling cheerfully and sending
out a cloud of smoke that looked exactly like real smoke.

As soon as he reached home Geppetto took his tools and set to work to
cut out and model his puppet.

[Illustration: A Little Chicken Popped Out, Very Gay and Polite]

"What name shall I give him?" he said to himself; "I think I will call
him Pinocchio. It is a name that will bring him luck. I once knew a
whole family so called. There was Pinocchio the father, Pinocchia the
mother, and Pinocchi the children, and all of them did well. The
richest of them was a beggar."

Having found a name for his puppet he began to work in good earnest, and
he first made his hair, then his forehead, and then his eyes.

The eyes being finished, imagine his astonishment when he perceived that
they moved and looked fixedly at him.

Geppetto, seeing himself stared at by those two wooden eyes, said in an
angry voice:

"Wicked wooden eyes, why do you look at me?"

No one answered.

He then proceeded to carve the nose, but no sooner had he made it than
it began to grow. And it grew, and grew, and grew, until in a few
minutes it had become an immense nose that seemed as if it would never
end.

Poor Geppetto tired himself out with cutting it off, but the more he cut
and shortened it, the longer did that impertinent nose become!

The mouth was not even completed when it began to laugh and deride him.

"Stop laughing!" said Geppetto, provoked; but he might as well have
spoken to the wall.

"Stop laughing, I say!" he roared in a threatening tone.

The mouth then ceased laughing, but put out its tongue as far as it
would go.

Geppetto, not to spoil his handiwork, pretended not to see and continued
his labors. After the mouth he fashioned the chin, then the throat, then
the shoulders, the stomach, the arms and the hands.

The hands were scarcely finished when Geppetto felt his wig snatched
from his head. He turned round, and what did he see? He saw his yellow
wig in the puppet's hand.

"Pinocchio! Give me back my wig instantly!"

But Pinocchio, instead of returning it, put it on his own head and was
in consequence nearly smothered.

Geppetto at this insolent and derisive behavior felt sadder and more
melancholy than he had ever been in his life before; and, turning to
Pinocchio, he said to him:

"You young rascal! You are not yet completed and you are already
beginning to show want of respect to your father! That is bad, my boy,
very bad!"

And he dried a tear.

The legs and the feet remained to be done.

When Geppetto had finished the feet he received a kick on the point of
his nose.

"I deserve it!" he said to himself; "I should have thought of it sooner!
Now it is too late!"

He then took the puppet under the arms and placed him on the floor to
teach him to walk.

Pinocchio's legs were stiff and he could not move, but Geppetto led him
by the hand and showed him how to put one foot before the other.

When his legs became limber Pinocchio began to walk by himself and to
run about the room, until, having gone out of the house door, he jumped
into the street and escaped.

Poor Geppetto rushed after him but was not able to overtake him, for
that rascal Pinocchio leaped in front of him like a hare and knocking
his wooden feet together against the pavement made as much clatter as
twenty pairs of peasants' clogs.

"Stop him! stop him!" shouted Geppetto; but the people in the street,
seeing a wooden puppet running like a race-horse, stood still in
astonishment to look at it, and laughed and laughed.

At last, as good luck would have it, a soldier arrived who, hearing the
uproar, imagined that a colt had escaped from his master. Planting
himself courageously with his legs apart in the middle of the road, he
waited with the determined purpose of stopping him and thus preventing
the chance of worse disasters.

When Pinocchio, still at some distance, saw the soldier barricading the
whole street, he endeavored to take him by surprise and to pass between
his legs. But he failed entirely.

The soldier without disturbing himself in the least caught him cleverly
by the nose and gave him to Geppetto. Wishing to punish him, Geppetto
intended to pull his ears at once. But imagine his feelings when he
could not succeed in finding them. And do you know the reason? In his
hurry to model him he had forgotten to make any ears.

He then took him by the collar and as he was leading him away he said to
him, shaking his head threateningly:

"We will go home at once, and as soon as we arrive we will settle our
accounts, never doubt it."

At this information Pinocchio threw himself on the ground and would not
take another step. In the meanwhile a crowd of idlers and inquisitive
people began to assemble and to make a ring around them.

Some of them said one thing, some another.

"Poor puppet!" said several, "he is right not to wish to return home!
Who knows how Geppetto, that bad old man, will beat him!"

And the others added maliciously:

"Geppetto seems a good man! but with boys he is a regular tyrant! If
that poor puppet is left in his hands he is quite capable of tearing him
in pieces!"

It ended in so much being said and done that the soldier at last set
Pinocchio at liberty and led Geppetto to prison. The poor man, not being
ready with words to defend himself, cried like a calf and as he was
being led away to prison sobbed out:

"Wretched boy! And to think how I labored to make him a well-conducted
puppet! But it serves me right! I should have thought of it sooner!"

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IV

THE TALKING-CRICKET SCOLDS PINOCCHIO

While poor Geppetto was being taken to prison for no fault of his, that
imp Pinocchio, finding himself free from the clutches of the soldier,
ran off as fast as his legs could carry him. That he might reach home
the quicker he rushed across the fields, and in his mad hurry he jumped
high banks, thorn hedges and ditches full of water.

Arriving at the house he found the street door ajar. He pushed it open,
went in, and having fastened the latch, threw himself on the floor and
gave a great sigh of satisfaction.

But soon he heard some one in the room who was saying:

"Cri-cri-cri!"

"Who calls me?" said Pinocchio in a fright.

"It is I!"

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

"Tell me, Cricket, who may you be?"

"I am the Talking-Cricket, and I have lived in this room a hundred years
or more."

"Now, however, this room is mine," said the puppet, "and if you would do
me a pleasure go away at once, without even turning round."

"I will not go," answered the Cricket, "until I have told you a great
truth."

"Tell it me, then, and be quick about it."

"Woe to those boys who rebel against their parents and run away from
home. They will never come to any good in the world, and sooner or later
they will repent bitterly."

"Sing away, Cricket, as you please, and as long as you please. For me, I
have made up my mind to run away tomorrow at daybreak, because if I
remain I shall not escape the fate of all other boys; I shall be sent to
school and shall be made to study either by love or by force. To tell
you in confidence, I have no wish to learn; it is much more amusing to
run after butterflies, or to climb trees and to take the young birds out
of their nests."

"Poor little goose! But do you not know that in that way you will grow
up a perfect donkey, and that every one will make fun of you?"

"Hold your tongue, you wicked, ill-omened croaker!" shouted Pinocchio.

But the Cricket, who was patient and philosophical, instead of becoming
angry at this impertinence, continued in the same tone:

"But if you do not wish to go to school why not at least learn a trade,
if only to enable you to earn honestly a piece of bread!"

"Do you want me to tell you?" replied Pinocchio, who was beginning to
lose patience. "Amongst all the trades in the world there is only one
that really takes my fancy."

"And that trade--what is it?"

"It is to eat, drink, sleep and amuse myself, and to lead a vagabond
life from morning to night."

"As a rule," said the Talking-Cricket, "all those who follow that trade
end almost always either in a hospital or in prison."

"Take care, you wicked, ill-omened croaker! Woe to you if I fly into a
passion!"

"Poor Pinocchio! I really pity you!"

"Why do you pity me?"

"Because you are a puppet and, what is worse, because you have a wooden
head."

At these last words Pinocchio jumped up in a rage and, snatching a
wooden hammer from the bench, he threw it at the Talking-Cricket.

Perhaps he never meant to hit him, but unfortunately it struck him
exactly on the head, so that the poor Cricket had scarcely breath to cry
"Cri-cri-cri!" and then he remained dried up and flattened against the
wall.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V

THE FLYING EGG

Night was coming on and Pinocchio, remembering that he had eaten nothing
all day, began to feel a gnawing in his stomach that very much resembled
appetite.

After a few minutes his appetite had become hunger and in no time his
hunger became ravenous.

Poor Pinocchio ran quickly to the fireplace, where a saucepan was
boiling, and was going to take off the lid to see what was in it, but
the saucepan was only painted on the wall. You can imagine his feelings.
His nose, which was already long, became longer by at least three
inches.

He then began to run about the room, searching in the drawers and in
every imaginable place, in hopes of finding a bit of bread. If it was
only a bit of dry bread, a crust, a bone left by a dog, a little moldy
pudding of Indian corn, a fish bone, a cherry stone--in fact, anything
that he could gnaw. But he could find nothing, nothing at all,
absolutely nothing.

And in the meanwhile his hunger grew and grew. Poor Pinocchio had no
other relief than yawning, and his yawns were so tremendous that
sometimes his mouth almost reached his ears. And after he had yawned he
spluttered and felt as if he were going to faint.

Then he began to cry desperately, and he said:

"The Talking-Cricket was right. I did wrong to rebel against my papa and
to run away from home. If my papa were here I should not now be dying of
yawning! Oh! what a dreadful illness hunger is!"

Just then he thought he saw something in the dust-heap--something round
and white that looked like a hen's egg. To give a spring and seize hold
of it was the affair of a moment. It was indeed an egg.

Pinocchio's joy was beyond description. Almost believing it must be a
dream he kept turning the egg over in his hands, feeling it and kissing
it. And as he kissed it he said:

"And now, how shall I cook it? Shall I make an omelet? No, it would be
better to cook it in a saucer! Or would it not be more savory to fry it
in the frying-pan? Or shall I simply boil it? No, the quickest way of
all is to cook it in a saucer: I am in such a hurry to eat it!"

Without loss of time he placed an earthenware saucer on a brazier full
of red-hot embers. Into the saucer instead of oil or butter he poured a
little water; and when the water began to smoke, tac! he broke the
egg-shell over it and let the contents drop in. But, instead of the
white and the yolk a little chicken popped out very gay and polite.
Making a beautiful courtesy it said to him:

"A thousand thanks, Master Pinocchio, for saving me the trouble of
breaking the shell. Adieu until we meet again. Keep well, and my best
compliments to all at home!"

Thus saying, it spread its wings, darted through the open window and,
flying away, was lost to sight.

The poor puppet stood as if he had been bewitched, with his eyes fixed,
his mouth open, and the egg-shell in his hand. Recovering, however, from
his first stupefaction, he began to cry and scream, and to stamp his
feet on the floor in desperation, and amidst his sobs he said:

"Ah, indeed, the Talking-Cricket was right. If I had not run away from
home, and if my papa were here, I should not now be dying of hunger! Oh!
what a dreadful illness hunger is!"

And, as his stomach cried out more than ever and he did not know how to
quiet it, he thought he would leave the house and make an excursion in
the neighborhood in hopes of finding some charitable person who would
give him a piece of bread.

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