“What is it?”
“To-morrow I shall no longer be a marionette; I shall become a boy like all the rest.”
“Good luck to you!”
“But I want you to be there.”
“I have told you that I am going away to-night.”
“At what time?”
“Shortly.”
“Where do you go?”
“I am going to live in a new country that is the most beautiful place in all the world. It is a true land of plenty.”
“What do they call it?”
“They call it ‘The Country of Playthings.’ Why won’t you come?”
“I? No, indeed.”
“You are wrong, Pinocchio. Believe me, if you do not go away, you will be sorry. Where can you find a better place for boys? There are no schools; there are no teachers; there are no books. In that blessed country they never study. On Saturdays you do not go to school here, and there every day is a Saturday except one, which is Sunday. Just think, the vacation begins the first day of January and ends the last day of December! That is the country for me. That is what I think all countries should be like.”
