“Pinocchio, ask our pardon for your offenses; and if you will not, look out!”
“Coo-coo,” said the marionette, striking the end of his nose with his first finger, as he made the sound of the bird.
“Pinocchio, will you ask pardon?”
“Coo-coo.”
“You are a mule.”
“Coo-coo.”
“We will break your nose.”
“Coo-coo.”
“Now, Coo-coo, I will teach you a lesson!” cried one of them. “Take this home with you and remember it while you are at supper.” And saying that, he struck Pinocchio on the head with his fist. But it was an exchange of blows, for the lively marionette ducked his head and replied suddenly with another blow, and then the fight became general. Pinocchio, although he was alone, defended himself like a hero. His hard wooden feet worked so well that they kept all the boys at a reasonable distance. Where the feet struck they always left a black and blue spot.
Then the boys, provoked at not being able to get near the marionette, looked around for stones; but there was nothing but sand. They finally took their spelling books, geographies, histories, and
