The marionette, returning to the city, began to count the minutes one by one. When he thought it was time to go back he took the road that led to the Field of Miracles. And while he walked along his heart beat in his bosom like a big hall clock—tic-tac-tic-tac. Meanwhile he was thinking to himself: “And if, instead of two thousand, I should find five thousand? Oh, what a rich man I should be! I would have a palace and a thousand wooden horses and carriages to amuse me; I would have a cellar filled with good things, a library filled with candy, Dutch cake, almond cake, and cinnamon stick.”
Thus imagining, he arrived at the field. He stopped to look for the large vine with many branches, but he saw nothing. He took a few steps more. Nothing. He entered the field and went right to the hole where he had planted his money. Nothing. Then he became thoughtful and, pulling his hand out of his pocket, began to scratch his head.
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