The Adventures of Pinocchio (1904)/Chapter 24
Animated by the hope of arriving in time to save his father, Pinocchio swam all night. And what a horrible swim that was! It rained, hailed, thundered, and lightened so hard that the night appeared like day.
In the morning he saw a shore line. It was an island in the middle of the sea. He tried to reach that sand bank, but it was useless. The waves tossed him about like a straw. At last, by good fortune, there came a tremendous wave that hurled him right upon the shore. The force with which he struck the ground was so great that it nearly broke his bones; but he said, “I have been very lucky to escape this time.”
In the meantime the weather cleared. The sun appeared in all its splendor and the sea became as smooth as oil. Then the marionette laid his clothes out on the sand and sat in the sun to dry himself. He looked all around, but he saw nothing of the little boat that contained his papa.
“I should like to know the name of this island,” he said to himself. “I should like to know, at least, if it is inhabited by kind people who do not hang boys to trees; but whom can I ask if there is no one here?”
The idea of finding himself alone on an island in the sea made him very sad and he began to cry. Suddenly he saw, passing by not very far from shore, a large Fish, who went about his business quietly with his head above the water. The marionette called in a loud voice, so as to make himself heard, “Hello, Mr. Fish! Will you allow me one word?”
“Two,” replied the Fish, who was so polite a dolphin that it would be hard to find his equal in the sea.
“Will you please tell me if in this island I can find something to eat without being eaten?”
“I am sure of it,” replied the Dolphin. “You will find some people not far from here.”
“And what street must I take?”
“Take that little road to the left and follow your nose. You cannot mistake it.”
“Tell me, please, another thing. You travel so much in the sea, both day and night, that perhaps you have seen a little boat with my papa in it.”
“And who is your papa?”
“He is the best in the world, and I am the worst son that can possibly be.”
“With the terrible storm that we had last night the boat must have sunk.”
“And my papa?”
“By this time he must have been swallowed by the Dogfish who for several days has been playing havoc in these waters.”
“Is the Dogfish very large?” asked Pinocchio, who already trembled with fear.
“Large?” replied the Dolphin. “Why, you can get an idea of him when I tell you that he is as large as five-story house and his mouth is so big that he can swallow, at one gulp, a train of cars with the engine attached!”
“Oh, dear me!” cried the marionette, very much scared. Turning to the Dolphin, he said hurriedly, “Good-by, Mr. Fish; excuse me, and a thousand thanks for your kindness.”
Having said this, Pinocchio took the little road and ran as quickly as he could. At every slight noise he heard he looked around, for fear he might be followed by the terrible Dogfish as big as a five-story house, and with a mouth large enough to swallow a train of cars with the engine attached.
After having run for half an hour, he arrived at a little country called “The Country of the Busy Bees.” The streets were filled with those who ran here and there attending to their little duties, everybody having something to do.
“I understand!” exclaimed that good-for-nothing Pinocchio. “This country is not for me. I was not born to work.”
Meanwhile he was very hungry because he had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours,—not even a chick pea. What could he do? There were only two ways to get food,—either to beg or to work for it. To ask for alms he was ashamed, because his papa had told him that the only ones who had a right to beg were the truly poor, sick, or blind. The poor deserve help as do those also who are too old to work. All the others must do something, and if they suffer from hunger it is the worse for them.
Just then there passed a man, all perspiring, who was pulling two wagons filled with coal. Pinocchio, judging from his face that he was a good man, lowered his eyes for shame, and said in an under-
tone, “Will you please give me a penny? I am dying of hunger.”
“Not a cent,” replied the coal man; “but I will give you five if you will help me pull this wagon up the hill.”
“I am surprised,” replied the marionette, almost offended. “I was not made a mule; I have never pulled a wagon in all my life.”
“The worse for you!” replied the coal man. “Then, my boy, if you are dying with hunger, eat a couple of slices of your pride and take care that it does not give you indigestion.”
After a few moments a bricklayer passed along, carrying on his shoulder a basket of lime.
“Good gentleman, will you be kind enough to give a penny to a poor boy who is dying with hunger?”
“Come with me, and I will give you five if you will carry a basket of lime for me.”
“But the lime is heavy,” replied Pinocchio, “and I do not want to get tired.”
“If you do not want to get tired, my boy, go hungry. Good-by.”
In less than half an hour twenty other people walked by and they all said to Pinocchio: “Shame on you! Instead of finding a little work and earning some money, you stand there and beg like a vagabond.”
Finally along came a good woman who carried two pitchers of water.
“Will you be so good as to give me a sip of water?” asked Pinocchio, who was burning with thirst.
“Certainly, my boy,” said the good woman, placing the two pitchers on the ground.
When Pinocchio had drunk like a sponge he muttered, drying his mouth, “If I could only eat as much as I drank!”
The good woman, hearing these words, replied quickly, “If you will help me carry one of these pitchers of water up the hill, I will give you a nice piece of bread.”
Pinocchio looked at the pitchers of water and did not say Yes or No.
“And with the piece of bread I will give you a piece of cauliflower dipped in oil and vinegar.”
Pinocchio gave another glance at the pitcher and did not say Yes or No.
“And after the cauliflower I will give you a piece of cake.”
At this Pinocchio could resist no longer. He said, “Pshaw! I will carry the pitcher to your home.” The pitcher was very heavy, and not being able to carry it with his hands he put it on his head. After they arrived at the house the good woman prepared the table and gave the marionette all that she had promised. Pinocchio did not eat; he gorged. His little stomach was so empty that one would think he had not eaten for a week.
Calming his hunger little by little, he raised his head in order to thank his benefactress. Hardly had he looked at her when he uttered a long “Oh-h-h-h!” of surprise. He remained seated as if transfixed, with his eyes opened wide, with his fork in the air, and with his mouth full of bread and cauliflower.
“What has caused this surprise?” the good woman asked, laughing.
“What!” replied Pinocchio, stuttering. “What!—how you resemble—yes! yes! yes!—with the blue hair, too, just like her! Oh, my little Fairy, tell me that it is you! Do not let me cry any more! If you only knew how much I have cried!—how much I have suffered!”
And saying this, Pinocchio wept a flood of tears and, throwing himself on his knees, clung to the mysterious woman.
