“Neither do I wish to be digested,” added the Tunny; “but I am philosopher enough to console myself by thinking that it is more dignified to die under water than to be soaking in vinegar and oil.”
“Nonsense!” cried Pinocchio.
“It is my opinion,” replied the Tunny; “and the opinion of fishes should be respected.”
“As for me,” said Pinocchio, “I wish to go away from here; I want to escape.”
“Escape if you can.”
“Is the Dogfish very large?” asked the marionette.
“Why, his body is a mile long without counting his tail.”
In the meantime Pinocchio thought he saw in the distance a little glimmer of light.
“What can that be?” he asked.
“Some poor unfortunate that is probably being digested.”
“Well, I am going to see. It may be some old fish that can tell me the way to walk around here.”
“I wish you good luck, my poor marionette.”
“Good-by, Tunny.”
“Good-by, marionette, and good fortune go with you.”
“When shall we meet again?”
“Who knows? It is better not to think of that.”
