“Who is speaking to me?” said Pinocchio, frightened.
“It is I.”
Pinocchio turned around and saw a large cricket that walked slowly up on the wall.
“Tell me, Cricket, who are you?”
“I am the Talking Cricket, and I have lived in this room for more than a hundred years.”
“To-day, however, this room is mine,” said the marionette, “and if you wish to do me a favor, go away immediately, without even turning yourself around once.”
“I will not go away from here,” said the Cricket, “without telling you a great truth.”
“Tell it to me and be gone.”
“Woe to boys who rebel against their parents, and who foolishly run away from their homes. They will never get along well in the world, and sooner or later will bitterly repent of their actions.”
“Sing on, little Cricket, if it pleases you; but I know that to-morrow, at the dawn of day, I shall go away, because if I remain here, what happens to all other boys will happen to me. I shall have to go to school and be made to study; and I will tell you in confidence that I have no wish to study at all, and I propose to play and run after
