“Read the sign and you will know.”
“I would read it willingly, but somehow to-day I do not know how.”
“Stupid one! then I will read it for you. Know, then, that on that sign with letters like fire there is written, ‘Grand Theater of Marionettes.’”
“How soon does it begin?”
“It begins now.”
“And how much is the admission?”
“Four pennies.”
Pinocchio was wild with curiosity, and forgetting all his good resolutions, shamelessly turned to the boy with whom he was talking and said, “Would you give me four pennies until to-morrow?”
“I would give you the pennies willingly, but today I have none to spare.”
“For four pennies I will sell you my jacket,” said the marionette.
“What good would a paper cardboard jacket do me? If it rains on it, it will fall apart.”
“I will sell my shoes.”
“They are good only for a fire.”
“How much will you give me for my cap?”
“Nice bargain, truly! a cap of bread! Why, the rats would eat it all in a night.”
Pinocchio was full of trouble. He stood there not knowing what to do. He had not the courage
