The Adventures of Pinocchio (1904)/Chapter 28
During that desperate run there was a terrible moment in which Pinocchio believed himself lost, for Aladdin, the dog, ran so very fast that he nearly caught him. The marionette felt behind him the warm breath of the ugly beast as he panted heavily. By good luck the beach was near and he saw the sea not far away.
As soon as he reached the water’s edge the marionette gave a good spring, just like a frog, and fell into the water. Aladdin wished to stop but, carried by the impetus of his speed, he also entered the water. The unfortunate Dog did not know how to swim, so he began to gesticulate with his paws in order to right himself; but the more he gesticulated the more his head went under water. When he finally succeeded in getting his head out of water his eyes were full of tears, and, barking, he said, “I smother! I drown!”
“Die!” replied Pinocchio, who, seeing himself far away, felt that he was out of danger.
“Help me, Pinocchio! Save me from death!”
At that pitiful cry the marionette, who had really a good heart, was moved with compassion and, turning to the Dog, said to him, “But if I save you, will you promise that you will not run after me?”
“Yes, I promise you. Come quickly, for in a few minutes I shall be dead.”
Pinocchio hesitated a little. Then remembering that his papa had told him that a good action is never forgotten, he swam toward Aladdin and, taking him by the tail, pulled him out and landed him safe and sound on the sand.
The poor Dog could not stand on his feet. He had unintentionally swallowed so much salt water that he was swollen like a balloon. Not wishing to trust the Dog too much, the marionette thought it prudent to throw himself again into the sea. Swimming away, he cried: “Good-by, Aladdin! Remember me to all your friends.”
“Good-by, Pinocchio!” barked the Dog. “A thousand thanks for having saved my life. You have done me a great service and I shall never forget you. I hope I shall be able to repay you some day.”
Pinocchio continued to swim, keeping always near the shore. Finally he thought he had arrived at a good safe place to land. Looking up and down, he saw on the reefs a sort of grotto out of which came a long thread of smoke.
“In that grotto,” he said to himself, “there must be some fire. So much the better; I will go and dry myself. Then whatever will happen will happen.”
Having taken this resolution he approached the reef; but when he was about to land he felt something in the water that drew him along. He tried to escape but it was too late. He found himself in a great fish net full of fishes of every kind. And then he saw coming out of the grotto a fisherman so ugly that he appeared to be a sea monster. Instead of hair he had bunches of seaweed on his head. His skin also was green; so were his eyes and his long beard. He looked like a great big lizard with arms and legs.
When the fisherman had pulled out the net he gave a great cry of satisfaction: “Thank goodness! To-day I shall have a nice big meal.”
“It is a good thing I am not a fish,” said Pinocchio to himself, becoming more hopeful.
The net of fishes was carried into the grotto, which was dark and smoky. In the center was a fire, and over it a frying pan full of oil was spitting.
“Now let us see what kind of fish I have caught to-day,” said the green fisherman. Putting his hand inside he drew out a lot of mullets.
“These are beautiful mullets,” he said, looking at them with pleasure. And after having smelled them he threw them into a washtub.
He repeated this operation many times, filling many tubs with other fish, his mouth watering all the time so that he could hardly wait until the fish were cooked.
“What good whitefish!”
“What exquisite bass!”
“What delicious soles!”
“What choice crabs!”
“What glorious anchovy!”
The last that remained in the net was Pinocchio. As the fisherman drew him out he looked scared and exclaimed: “What species of fish is this? I do not remember ever having seen one like it before.” He looked him all over
Pinocchio, mortified at being called a crawfish, indignantly cried out: “I am not a crawfish! Look at me; I am a marionette.”
“A marionette!” replied the fisherman. “Well, well! A marionette fish is a new kind to me. All the better; I shall eat you with more relish.”
“Eat me? But you do not understand! I am not a fish. Don’t you see that I reason and talk as you do?”
“It is true,” replied the fisherman. “As I see that you live in the water and must be a fish, and as you know how to reason and talk, I will respect your wisdom and will therefore let you decide.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, on account of my esteem and friendship for one who knows how to reason and talk, I will let you choose the way in which you are to be cooked. Should you like to be boiled, or fried in a pan with tomato sauce?”
“To tell you the truth,” replied Pinocchio, “if I must choose, I should prefer to be set free and to go home.”
“You are joking. Do you think I would lose the chance of eating so rare a fish? What I will do is to fry you with all the others. Being fried with companions is always a consolation.”
At this allusion the unhappy Pinocchio began to weep. He exclaimed: “How much better would it have been if I had gone to school! I listened to the bad advice of my school friends and now I am paying for it. Ih! ih! ih!”
Because Pinocchio twisted and turned like an eel the fisherman took a piece of cord and bound him tightly and threw him in with the others. Then he pulled out a box of flour and, having buttered the fish all over, began to dip them into it so as to make them taste nice. The first to be put into the pan were the mullets, then the soles, then the bass, and finally it came Pinocchio’s turn. The marionette, seeing himself so close to death—and such a mean death!—trembled all over with fright and had no breath left to say anything.
The poor boy looked sadly at the fisherman; but the green man, without paying any attention, buttered him all over from head to foot, so that he looked like a marionette of chalk.
Then he took him by the neck and—