Pinocchio

hen a big crab, who had come out of the water and had climbed slowly up on the shore, called out in a hoarse voice that sounded like a trumpet with a bad cold:
“Have done with that, you young ruffians, for you are nothing else! These hand-to-hand fights between boys seldom finish well. Some disaster is sure to happen!”
Poor crab! He might as well have preached to the wind. Even that young rascal, Pinocchio, turning around, looked at him mockingly and said rudely:
“Hold your tongue, you tiresome crab! You had better suck some liquorice lozenges to cure that cold in your throat.”
Just then the boys, who had no more books of their own to throw, spied at a little distance the satchel that belonged to Pinocchio, and took possession of it.
Amongst the books there was one bound in strong cardboard with the back and points of parchment. It was a Treatise on Arithmetic.
One of the boys seized this volume and, aiming at Pinocchio`s head, threw it at him with all the force he could muster. But instead of hitting the puppet it struck one of his companions on the temple, who, turning as white as a sheet, said only:
“Oh, mother! help, I am dying!” and fell his whole length on the sand. Thinking he was dead, the terrified boys ran off as hard as their legs could carry them and in a few minutes they were out of sight.
But Pinocchio remained. Although from grief and fright he was more dead than alive, nevertheless he ran and soaked his handkerchief in the sea and began to bathe the temples of his poor school-fellow. Crying bitterly in his despair, he kept calling him by name and saying to him:
“Eugene! my poor Eugene! Open your eyes and look at me! Why do you not answer? I did not do it; indeed it was not I that hurt you so! believe me, it was not! Open your eyes, Eugene. If you keep your eyes shut I shall die, too. Oh! what shall I do? how shall I ever return home? How can I ever have the courage to go back to my good mamma? What will become of me? Where can I fly to? Oh! how much better it would have been, a thousand times better, if I had only gone to school! Why did I listen to my companions? they have been my ruin. The master said to me, and my mamma repeated it often: `Beware of bad companions!` Oh, dear! what will become of me, what will become of me, what will become of me?”
And Pinocchio began to cry and sob, and to strike his head with his fists, and to call poor Eugene by his name. Suddenly he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
He turned and saw two soldiers.
“What are you doing there, lying on the ground?” they asked Pinocchio.
“I am helping my school-fellow.”
“Has he been hurt?”
“So it seems.”
“Hurt indeed!” said one of them, stooping down and examining Eugene closely.
“This boy has been wounded in the temple. Who wounded him?”
“Not I,” stammered the puppet breathlessly.
“If it was not you, who then did it?”
“Not I,” repeated Pinocchio.
“And with what was he wounded?”
“With this book.” And the puppet picked up from the ground the Treatise on Arithmetic, bound in cardboard and parchment, and showed it to the soldier.
“And to whom does this belong?”
“To me.”
“That is enough, nothing more is wanted. Get up and come with us at once.”
“But I-“
“Come along with us!”
“But I am innocent.”
“Come along with us!”
Before they left, the soldiers called some fishermen who were passing at that moment near the shore in their boat, and said to them:
“We give this boy who has been wounded in the head in your charge. Carry him to your house and nurse him. Tomorrow we will come and see him.”
They then turned to Pinocchio and, having placed him between them, they said to him in a commanding voice:
“Forward! and walk quickly, or it will be the worse for you.”
Without requiring it to be repeated, the puppet set out along the road leading to the village. But the poor little devil hardly knew where he was. He thought he must be dreaming, and what a dreadful dream! He was beside himself. He saw double; his legs shook; his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a word. And yet, in the midst of his stupefaction and apathy, his heart was pierced by a cruel thorn-the thought that he would pass under the windows of the good Fairy`s house between the soldiers. He would rather have died.
They had already reached the village when a gust of wind blew Pinocchio`s cap off his head and carried it ten yards off.
“Will you permit me,” said the puppet to the soldiers, “to go and get my cap?”
“Go, then; but be quick about it.”
The puppet went and picked up his cap, but instead of putting it on his head he took it between his teeth and began to run as hard as he could towards the seashore.
The soldiers, thinking it would be difficult to overtake him, sent after him a large mastiff who had won the first prizes at all the dog races. Pinocchio ran, but the dog ran faster. The people came to their windows and crowded into the street in their anxiety to see the end of the desperate race.
CHAPTER XXVIII
PINOCCHIO ESCAPES BEING FRIED LIKE A FISH
There came a moment in this desperate race-a terrible moment-when Pinocchio thought himself lost: for Alidoro, the mastiff, had run so swiftly that he had nearly come up with him.
The puppet could hear the panting of the dreadful beast close behind him; there was not a hand`s breadth between them, he could even feel the dog`s hot breath.
Fortunately the shore was close and the sea but a few steps off.
As soon as he reached the sands the puppet made a wonderful leap-a frog could have done no better-and plunged into the water.
Alidoro, on the contrary, wished to stop himself, but, carried away by the impetus of the race, he also went into the sea. The unfortunate dog could not swim, but he made great efforts to keep himself afloat with his paws; but the more he struggled the farther he sank head downwards under the water.
When he rose to the surface again his eyes were rolling with terror, and he barked out:
“I am drowning! I am drowning!”
“Drown!” shouted Pinocchio from a distance, seeing himself safe from all danger.
“Help me, dear Pinocchio! Save me from death!”
At that agonizing cry the puppet, who had in reality an excellent heart, was moved with compassion, and, turning to the dog, he said:
“But if I save your life, will you promise to give me no further annoyance, and not to run after me?”
“I promise! I promise! Be quick, for pity`s sake, for if you delay another half-minute I shall be dead.”
Pinocchio hesitated; but, remembering that his father had often told him that a good action is never lost, he swam to Alidoro, and, taking hold of his tail with both hands, brought him safe and sound on to the dry sand of the beach.
The poor dog could not stand. He had drunk so much salt water that he was like a balloon. The puppet, however, not wishing to trust him too far, thought it more prudent to jump again into the water. When he had swum some distance from the shore he called out to the friend he had rescued:
“Good-bye, Alidoro; a good journey to you, and take my compliments to all at home.”
“Good-bye, Pinocchio,” answered the dog; “a thousand thanks for having saved my life. You have done me a great service, and in this world what is given is returned. If an occasion offers I shall not forget it.”
Pinocchio swam on, keeping always near the land. At last he thought that he had reached a safe place. Giving a look along the shore, he saw amongst the rocks a kind of cave from which a cloud of smoke was ascending.
“In that cave,” he said to himself, “there must be a fire. So much the better. I will go and dry and warm myself, and then? and then we shall see.”
Having taken the resolution he approached the rocks, but, as he was going to climb up, he felt something under the water that rose higher and higher and carried him into the air. He tried to escape, but it was too late, for, to his extreme surprise, he found himself enclosed in a great net, together with a swarm of fish of every size and shape, who were flapping and struggling like so many despairing souls.
At the same moment a fisherman came out of the cave; he was so ugly, so horribly ugly, that he looked like a sea monster. Instead of hair his head was covered with a thick bush of green grass, his skin was green, his eyes were green, his long beard that came down to the ground was also green. He had the appearance of an immense lizard standing on its hind-paws.
When the fisherman had drawn his net out of the sea, he exclaimed with great satisfaction:
“Thank Heaven! Again today I shall have a splendid feast of fish!”
“What a mercy that I am not a fish!” said Pinocchio to himself, regaining a little courage.
The netful of fish was carried into the cave, which was dark and smoky. In the middle of the cave a large frying-pan full of oil was frying and sending out a smell of mushrooms that was suffocating.
“Now we will see what fish we have taken!” said the green fisherman, and, putting into the net an enormous hand, so out of all proportion that it looked like a baker`s shovel, he pulled out a handful of fish.
“These fish are good!” he said, looking at them and smelling them complacently. And after he had smelled them he threw them into a pan without water.
He repeated the same operation many times, and as he drew out the fish his mouth watered and he said, chuckling to himself:
“What good whiting!”
“What exquisite sardines!”
“These soles are delicious!”
“And these crabs excellent!”
“What dear little anchovies!”
The last to remain in the net was Pinocchio.
No sooner had the fisherman taken him out than he opened his big green eyes with astonishment and cried, half frightened:
“What species of fish is this? Fish of this kind I never remember to have eaten.”
And he looked at him again attentively and, having examined him well all over, he ended by saying:
“I know: he must be a craw-fish.”
Pinocchio, mortified at being mistaken for a craw-fish, said in an angry voice…