“That is not true.”
“Do you know him then?”
“By sight,” replied the marionette.
“What do you think of him?”
“He appears to me to be a good boy, a boy that wants to go to school, to study, and to obey his parents.”
When the marionette had told that story he touched his nose and found that it had grown much larger. Frightened by this, he cried: “Do not believe, good man, all that I have said! I know this Pinocchio very well and I assure you that he is a bad boy, a vagabond and a scoundrel; and instead of going to school he goes with bad companions.” He had hardly said these words when his nose returned to its natural size.
“And why are you covered with white?” said the old man.
“I will tell you. Without knowing it I climbed down a wall covered with chalk,” replied the marionette, who was ashamed to tell the real reason.
“Well, my boy, you cannot go around like that. I have only a little sack that will fit you, but I will give you that willingly.”
Without being urged further Pinocchio took the little sack and, cutting a hole in the bottom and two holes on the side with a pair of scissors, put
