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‘That of a very poor man.’
‘Does he earn very much?’
‘He earns as much as he needs for never having a farthing in his pocket. Just imagine, in order to buy a primer for my schooling, he had to sell his only coat: a coat that was so full of holes and patches that it was shameful.’
‘Poor fellow! I am almost sorry for him. Here are five gold pieces. Hurry up and give them to him, with my compliments.’
As you can well imagine, Pinocchio thanked the Showman a thousand times. One after another he embraced all the puppets of the company, even the gendarmes; then, almost beside himself with joy, he set out for home.
But before he had gone far he met a fox who was lame in one foot, and a cat who was blind in both eyes, getting along as best they could, like good companions in misfortune. The fox, who was lame, was leaning on the cat: and the cat, who was blind, was guided by the fox.
‘Good morning, Pinocchio,’ said the fox, approaching politely.
‘How do you know my name?’ asked the puppet.
‘I know your father well.’
‘Where did you see him?’
‘I saw him yesterday, at the gate of his house.’
‘And what was he doing?’
‘He was in his shirt-sleeves, and trembling with cold.’
‘Poor Daddy! But never mind! From now on, he will shiver no more.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I am now a rich man.’
‘You? A rich man?’ said the fox. And he began to laugh rudely and scornfully.
The cat laughed, too; but to hide it, she stroked her whiskers with her forepaws.
‘There’s nothing to laugh at,’ cried Pinocchio angrily. ‘I’m really sorry if what I say whets your appetite, but as you can see, there – if you understand such things – are five gold pieces.’ And he showed the money that Fire-eater had given him.
At the fascinating ringing of gold, the fox made an involuntary movement with the paw that seemed lame, and the cat opened wide her two blind eyes, but shut them again so quickly that Pinocchio could not notice.
‘And now,’ asked the fox, ‘what are you going to do with the money?’
‘First of all,’ answered the marionette, ‘I shall buy a beautiful new coat for my father – a coat made of gold and silver, and with diamond buttons. Then I will buy myself a primer.’
‘For yourself?’
‘Of course; for I mean to go to school and study hard.’
‘Look at me,’ said the fox. ‘It is because of my foolish passion for study that I lost the use of my leg.’
‘And look at me,’ said the cat. ‘Because of my foolish passion for study, I lost the sight of both my eyes.’
At that very moment, a white blackbird that was sitting on a hedge by the road sang its usual song, and said, ‘Pinocchio, don’t listen to the advice of evil companions. If you do, you’ll regret it.’
Poor blackbird, if only he had not said it! The cat, with a great leap, jumped upon him and, without giving him time to say ‘oh’, swallowed him in a mouthful, feathers and all.
Having devoured him she wiped her mouth, shut her eyes and shammed blindness as before.
‘Poor blackbird!’ said Pinocchio. ‘Why did you treat him so?’
‘I did it to give him a lesson. He will learn not to be meddlesome again, when other people are talking.’
They had gone nearly half-way towards Pinocchio’s home, when the fox suddenly stopped and said, ‘Would you like to double your fortune?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Would you like to multiply those five miserable gold pieces into a hundred, a thousand, two thousand times?’
‘Who wouldn’t! But how?’
‘That’s very easy. But instead of going home, you must come with us.’
‘And where are you going?’
‘We are going to Dupeland.’
Pinocchio thought for a moment, and then said resolutely, ‘No, I’m not going. I’m nearly at home, and I want to go to my father, who is waiting for me. Who knows how much he suffered because I didn’t come home? I know I have been a very bad boy, and that the talking cricket was right when he said, “Disobedient children never do any good in this world.” I have learnt it at my expense, for I have suffered many misfortunes! And last night, in Fire-eater’s house, I was nearly … Oh, even to think of it, makes me shiver!’
‘Well, then,’ said the fox, ‘so you really want to go home? Run along, then, and so much the worse for you!’
‘So much the worse for you!’ repeated the cat.
‘Think well, Pinocchio, because you’re losing a fortune!’
‘A fortune!’ repeated the cat.
‘Your five gold pieces might become two thousand in one day!’
‘Two thousand!’ repeated the cat.
‘But how could they possibly become so many?’ demanded Pinocchio, opening his mouth wide in astonishment.
‘I’ll explain it to you right now,’ said the fox.
‘You must know that in Dupeland there is a sacred field called the Field of Miracles. You dig a little hole in this field, and you put in it, let’s say, a gold piece. Then you cover it with earth, water it from the spring with two buckets of water, sprinkle two pinches of salt over it, and go quietly to bed. During the night the gold pieces will grow and blossom; and the next morning, when you get up and go back to the field, what do you find? You find a marvellous tree, laden with as many gold pieces as an ear of corn has grains at harvest-time.’
‘Suppose,’ said Pinocchio, more bewildered than ever, ‘that I buried my five gold pieces in that field, how many should I find there the next morning?’
‘That’s very easy to tell,’ replied the fox. ‘It’s a problem that can be solved on your fingers. Suppose every gold piece yields five hundred gold pieces; multiply five hundred by five, and the next morning you will find in your pocket two thousand five hundred shining gold pieces.’
‘Oh, wonderful!’ shouted Pinocchio, dancing for joy. ‘When I have collected these gold pieces, I shall keep two thousand for myself, and I shall make a present of the other five hundred to both of you.’
‘A present – to us?’ exclaimed the fox, as if offended. ‘God forbid!’
‘God forbid!’ repeated the cat.
‘We do not work for gain,’ said the fox. ‘We do everything for other people.’
‘For other people,’ echoed the cat.
‘What good people!’ thought Pinocchio. And, instantly forgetting his father, the new coat, the primer, and all his good resolutions, he said to the fox and the cat, ‘Well, let’s start! I shall come with you.’
CHAPTER 13 (#ulink_a5e7e8ba-91d4-58dd-97db-ed25ff4737b9)
The Red Crab Inn
They walked, and walked, and walked, and finally towards evening, tired out, they arrived at the Red Crab Inn.
‘Let us stop here a little while,’ said the Fox, ‘that we may eat a bite, and rest a few hours. At midnight we must go on again, so that we can reach the Field of Miracles early tomorrow morning.’
They entered the inn, and sat down at a table, but none of them had any appetite.
The poor cat had a bad indigestion, and could eat no more than thirty-five mullet with tomato sauce, and four helpings of tripe with Parmesan cheese; and, because she thought the tripe was not well seasoned, she asked three times for the butter and grated cheese.
The fox, too, would gladly have nibbled at something, but since the doctor had put him on a strict diet, he had to be content with a hare in sweet-savoury sauce, garnished with fat spring chickens and young pullets. After the hare, he ordered a special dish composed of partridges, rabbits, frogs, lizards, and other titbits, but he would not touch anything more. He said he was so disgusted at the sight of food that he could not eat another mouthful.
The one who ate least of all was Pinocchio. He asked for some nuts and some bread, but he left them all on his plate. The poor child’s thoughts were fixed on the Field of Miracles, and he was suffering a mental indigestion of gold pieces.
When they had supped, the fox said to their host, ‘Give us two nice rooms – one for Mr Pinocchio, and the other for me and my friend. We shall take a little nap before we leave. Don’t forget that, at midnight, we must continue our journey.’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied the host, winking at the fox and the cat as if to say, ‘I understand what you are up to. We know each other.’
As soon as he was in bed, Pinocchio fell asleep, and began to dream. He dreamed that he was in the middle of a field, and the field was full of small trees, the branches of which were laden with gold pieces swinging gently in the breeze, and chattering as if to say, ‘Whoever wants us, come and take us!’ But just at the most interesting moment – that is, when Pinocchio stretched out his hand to pick a handful and put them in his pocket – he was suddenly awakened by three violent knocks on the door.
It was the innkeeper, who came to tell him that it was midnight.
‘Are my companions ready?’ asked Pinocchio.
‘Ready! They left two hours ago.’
‘Why were they in such a hurry?’
‘Because the cat received a message that her eldest son was very sick with chilblains, and not expected to live.’
‘Did they pay for our supper?’
‘What an idea! They were far too well-mannered to offer such an insult to a gentleman like you.’
‘That’s too bad! Such an insult would have been a great pleasure!’ said Pinocchio, scratching his head. Then he inquired, ‘And where did those good friends of mine say they would wait for me?’
‘In the Field of Miracles, tomorrow morning, at sunrise.’
Pinocchio paid for his supper, and that of his friends, with a gold piece, and left. It was so dark that he had to grope his way, and it was impossible to see as far as his hand before his face. In the country round him, not a leaf stirred. Only a few night birds, flying across the road from one hedge to the other, brushed Pinocchio’s nose with their wings, frightening him so that he jumped back, crying, ‘Who goes there?’
An echo answered from the distant hills, ‘Who goes there? Who goes there? Who goes there?’
As he walked on he saw a little creature on the trunk of a tree, which shone with a pale faint light, like a night lamp with a china shade.
‘Who are you?’ asked Pinocchio.
‘I am the ghost of the talking cricket,’ was the reply, in a low, low voice, so faint that it seemed to come from another world.
‘What do you want from me?’ said the marionette.
‘I want to give you some advice. Go back home, and carry the four gold pieces you have left to your poor father, who is weeping and longing for you.’
‘Tomorrow my father will be a rich gentleman, for these four gold pieces will have become two thousand.’
‘My boy, never trust people who promise to make you rich in a day. They are generally crazy swindlers. Listen to me, and go back home.’
‘No, on the contrary, I am going forward.’
‘It is very late.’
‘I am going forward.’
‘The night is dark.’
‘I am going forward.’
‘It’s a dangerous road …’
‘I am going forward.’
‘Remember that children who do as they please and want to have their own way, are sorry for it sooner or later.’
‘That’s an old story. Good night, cricket!’
‘Good night, Pinocchio. May Heaven preserve you from dangers and assassins!’
With these words, the talking cricket disappeared as suddenly as when you blow out a candle; and the path was darker than before.
CHAPTER 14 (#ulink_a4304af9-44d1-5831-8ad7-9ada5908827f)
Pinocchio does not listen to the good advice of the talking cricket, and meets the assassins
‘Really,’ said Pinocchio to himself, as he continued his journey, ‘how unfortunate we poor boys are! Everybody scolds us, everybody warns us, everybody advises us. When they talk you would think they are all our fathers, or our school-masters – all of them: even the talking cricket. Just imagine – because I would not listen to that tiresome talking cricket, who knows, according to him, how many misfortunes will befall me? I shall even meet some assassins! Fortunately I don’t believe, and never have believed, in assassins. I am sure that assassins have been invented by fathers to frighten us, so that we should not dare to go out at night. But supposing I should meet them, on the road, would I be afraid of them? Certainly not! I should walk straight up to them and say, “Mr Assassins, what do you want from me? Just remember that there’s no joking with me. You had better be quiet, and go about your business!” If those wretched assassins heard me talking like that, I can just see them running away like the wind. But if, by chance, they didn’t run away, I would and that would be the end of it.’
Pinocchio would have continued his musings, but at that moment he thought he heard a rustling of leaves behind him.
