In the morning the door was opened. The good Snail had taken nine hours in descending the stairs, and, as might have been expected, was covered with perspiration.
“What are you doing with your foot in the door?” he asked, laughing.
“I have been unfortunate. Just look, kind Snail, and help me.”
“My boy, you need a carpenter, and I have never learned that trade.”
“Ask the Fairy to help me.”
“The Fairy is asleep and does not wish to be awakened.”
“But what can I do all day with my foot fastened to the door?”
“You can amuse yourself by counting the ants that pass by.”
“Bring me something to eat, won’t you? I am very hungry.”
“Immediately,” said the Snail.
After three hours Pinocchio saw him coming with a silver vase on his head. The vase contained some bread, a piece of chicken, and four ripe apricots.
“Here is your breakfast sent to you by the Fairy.”
At the sight of such food Pinocchio felt consoled. But he was deceived; for when he took the bread
