CHAPTER XX

Just imagine how happy Pinocchio was when he felt himself free! It is impossible to tell it. He quickly left the city and took the road that led to the house of the Fairy.

The roads were all soft because it had rained, and at every step he went up to his knees in mud. But he did not let that stop him. Wild with longing to see again his papa and his dear little sister with the blue hair, he ran and jumped on the dry places like a hare, and in running he splashed the mud all over his clothes and hat.

While he went along he thought: “How unfortunate I have been! But I deserve it all, because I am a headstrong and touchy marionette. I always wish to do things my way, without paying any attention to those who love me and who are a thousand times wiser than I. But from now on I will change my life and become a good, obedient boy. I have found out that boys who are disobedient always lose in the long run. And my poor papa has waited for me so long! I shall find him at the house of the Fairy. It is so long since I have seen him that I will give him a thousand hugs and kisses. And the Fairy will pardon my naughtiness in going away. To think that I have received from her so much goodness and kindness! And to think also that I owe my life to her! But no one can be more thankful than I am.”

He had scarcely said this last word when he stopped suddenly, very much frightened, and made four paces backward. What do you think he saw?—a big serpent stretched out on the road! It had a green skin, eyes of fire, and a tail that smoked at the end just like a chimney!

It is impossible to imagine the fear of the marionette, who, going some distance away, sat down on a heap of stones and waited for the serpent to go away so that the road would be left free. He waited one hour, two hours, three hours; but the serpent did not move. Pinocchio could see nothing but the eyes of fire and the smoking tail. Then, screwing up his courage, the marionette approached within a few paces of the serpent and said in a kind, sweet voice: “Excuse me, Mr. Serpent; would you oblige me by moving to one side so that I can pass?” It was as if he talked to a wall. There was no response.

Then Pinocchio said in the same kind tone: “You must know, Mr. Serpent, that I am going home, where my papa is waiting for me. Are you willing that I should pass and go on my way?”

He waited for some sign of response, but the reply did not come. On the contrary, the serpent, which until then had been quite lively, became quiet and nearly benumbed. His eyes closed and his tail stopped smoking.

“He is dead, truly,” thought Pinocchio, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. Without waiting any longer, he started to jump over him so as to pass to the other side. But he had hardly lifted his leg when the serpent rose suddenly, like a spring let loose. The marionette, trying to jump back, tripped and fell to the ground with such force that he landed with his head half stuck in the mud and his feet in the air.

At the sight of the marionette kicking his legs with incredible velocity the serpent was seized with convulsions of laughter. He laughed and laughed and laughed with such force that he broke a blood vessel and died.

Then Pinocchio started again to run along the road, hoping to reach the house of the Fairy before dark. Along the way, however, he was overcome

by hunger. So he jumped into a field to see if he could find a bunch of grapes. Here, too, he was unfortunate.

As soon as he arrived under the vine—crac—he felt his legs caught by two pieces of iron that made him see several new stars in the heavens. The poor marionette found himself fast in a trap which had been placed there by a farmer in order to catch a thieving polecat of the neighborhood.