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he finished the finger tips, they pulled his wig off.

      “Pinocchio, give me my wig!”

      But Pinocchio put it on his own head.

      Geppetto became very sad and downcast.

      “Pinocchio, you wicked boy!” he cried out. “You are impudent to your poor old father. Very bad, my son, very bad! I deserve it!” he said to himself. “Now it’s too late.”

      He put the Marionette on the floor to teach him to walk.

      But Pinocchio’s legs were very stiff and did not move. Geppetto taught him to walk.

      Finally, Pinocchio started to walk by himself and ran all around the room. He came to the open door, and away he ran!

      Poor Geppetto ran after him but was unable to catch him.

      “Catch him! Catch him!” Geppetto shouted. But the people in the street laughed.

      At last, a Carabineer grabbed the Marionette by the nose and returned him to Master Geppetto. Geppetto seized Pinocchio by the back of the neck and took him home. He said to him angrily:

      “When we get home, I’ll give you a good lesson!”

      Pinocchio threw himself on the ground and refused to go. The people gathered around them.

      Some said one thing, some another.

      “Poor Marionette,” said a man. “I am not surprised he doesn’t want to go home. Geppetto, no doubt, will beat him unmercifully. He is very mean and cruel!”

      “Geppetto looks like a good man,” added another, “but with boys he’s a real tyrant. Poor Marionette!”

      The Carabineer heard that and dragged Geppetto to prison. The poor old Geppetto did not know how to defend himself. He wept and wailed like a child and said between his sobs:

      “Ungrateful boy! I wanted to make you a good Marionette! I deserve it, however!”

      What happened after this is an almost unbelievable story.

      Chapter 4

      The story of Pinocchio and the Cricket

      So poor old Geppetto was in prison. In the meantime that rascal, Pinocchio, ran wildly across fields and meadows, and reached home. The house door was half open. He slipped into the room, locked the door, and threw himself on the floor.

      Then he heard:

      “Cri-cri-cri!”

      “Who is this?” asked Pinocchio, greatly frightened.

      “I am!”

      Pinocchio turned and saw a large cricket on the wall.

      “Tell me, Cricket, who are you?”

      “I am the Cricket. I live in this room. One hundred years.”

      “Today, however, this room is mine,” said the Marionette, “so get out[8] now.”

      “I refuse to leave this spot,” answered the Cricket, “I want to tell you a great truth.”

      “Tell it, then, and hurry.”

      “Woe to boys who refuse to obey their parents and run away from home! They will never be happy in this world. When they are older they will be very sorry for it.”

      “Nonsense. What I know is, that tomorrow, at dawn, I leave this place forever. If I stay here they will send me to school, like other boys and girls. As for me, let me tell you, I hate to study! I think, it’s more interesting to chase after butterflies, climb trees, and steal birds’ nests.”

      “Poor little silly! Don’t you know that if you do all that, you will grow into a perfect donkey?”

      “Keep still[9], you ugly Cricket!” cried Pinocchio.

      But the Cricket, who was a wise old philosopher, continued:

      “If you do not like to go to school, why don’t you learn a trade?”

      “Shall I tell you something?” asked Pinocchio. “Of all the trades in the world, there is only one that I really like.”

      “And what is that?”

      “To eat, to drink, to sleep, to play and to wander around from morning till night.”

      “Let me tell you, Pinocchio,” said the Cricket in his calm voice, “that you can end up in the hospital or in prison.”

      “Careful, ugly Cricket! If you make me angry, you’ll be sorry!”

      “Poor Pinocchio, I am sorry for you.”

      “Why?”

      “Because you are a Marionette and you have a wooden head.”

      At these last words, Pinocchio jumped up, took a hammer from the bench, and threw it with all his strength at the Cricket.

      Oh, my dear children, he 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 cooks an egg

      But the Marionette was hungry. A boy’s appetite grows very fast. Pinocchio ran to the fireplace with the pot and stretched out his hand to take the cover off. To his amazement, the pot was only painted! His long nose became at least two inches longer.

      He ran about the room, dug in all the boxes and drawers, and even looked under the bed. No piece of bread, or a cookie, or perhaps a bit of fish! He found nothing.

      And meanwhile his hunger grew and grew. Pinocchio began to yawn. Soon he became dizzy and faint. He wept and wailed to himself:

      “The Cricket was right. It was wrong of me to disobey Father and to run away from home. Oh, how horrible it is to be hungry!”

      Suddenly, he saw in a corner something round and white that looked like a hen’s egg. It was an egg! The Marionette turned the egg over and over in his hands, fondled it, kissed it, and talked to it:

      “And now, how shall I cook you? Shall I make an omelet? No, it is better to fry you in a pan! Or shall I drink you? No, the best way is to fry you in the pan.”

      He placed a little pan over a foot warmer[10]. In the pan, instead of oil or butter, he poured a little water. As soon as the water started to boil-tac! – he broke the eggshell. But in place of the white and the yolk of the egg, a little yellow chicken escaped from it. The chicken bowed politely to Pinocchio and said to him:

      “Many, many thanks, indeed, Signor Pinocchio. Now I’m free! Good-bye!”

      With these words he darted to the open window and flew away.

      Pinocchio began to cry and shriek:

      “The Cricket was right! Oh, how horrible it is to be hungry!”

      He decided to go to the nearby village to find some charitable person who might give him a bit of bread.

      Chapter 6

      Pinocchio sleeps with his feet on a foot warmer

      Pinocchio hated the dark street, but he was very hungry and he ran out of the house. The night was black. It thundered. An angry wind blew cold, while the trees shook and moaned in a weird way.

      Pinocchio was greatly afraid of thunder and lightning, but the hunger was greater than his fear. He came to the village. The village was dark and deserted. The stores, the doors, the windows were closed. It seemed the Village of the Dead.

      Pinocchio, in desperation, ran up to a doorway and pulled the bell wildly. He said to himself: “Someone will surely answer that!”

      He was right. An old man in a nightcap opened the window and looked out angrily:

      “What do you want at this hour

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