“And what was he doing?”
“He was in his shirt sleeves trembling with cold.”
“Poor Father!
But, after today, God willing, he will suffer no longer.”
“Why?”
“Because I have become a rich man.”
“You, a rich man?” said the Fox, and he began to laugh out loud.
The Cat was laughing also, but tried to hide it by stroking his long whiskers.
“There is nothing to laugh at,” cried Pinocchio angrily.
“I am very sorry to make your mouth water, but these, as you know, are five new gold pieces.”
And he pulled out the gold pieces which Fire Eater had given him.
At the cheerful tinkle of the gold, the Fox unconsciously held out his paw that was supposed to be lame, and the Cat opened wide his two eyes till they looked like live coals, but he closed them again so quickly that Pinocchio did not notice.
“And may I ask,” inquired the Fox, “what you are going to do with all that money?”
“First of all,” answered the Marionette, “I want to buy a fine new coat for my father, a coat of gold and silver with diamond buttons; after that, I’ll buy an A-B-C book for myself.”
“For yourself?”
“For myself.
I want to go to school and study hard.”
“Look at me,” said the Fox.
“For the silly reason of wanting to study, I have lost a paw.”
“Look at me,” said the Cat.
“For the same foolish reason, I have lost the sight of both eyes.”
At that moment, a Blackbird, perched on the fence along the road, called out sharp and clear:
“Pinocchio, do not listen to bad advice. If you do, you’ll be sorry!”
Poor little Blackbird!
If he had only kept his words to himself!
In the twinkling of an eyelid, the Cat leaped on him, and ate him, feathers and all.
After eating the bird, he cleaned his whiskers, closed his eyes, and became blind once more.
“Poor Blackbird!” said Pinocchio to the Cat. “Why did you kill him?”
“I killed him to teach him a lesson.
He talks too much. Next time he will keep his words to himself.”
By this time the three companions had walked a long distance. Suddenly, the Fox stopped in his tracks and, turning to the Marionette, said to him:
“Do you want to double your gold pieces?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want one hundred, a thousand, two thousand gold pieces for your miserable five?”
“Yes, but how?”
“The way is very easy.
Instead of returning home, come with us.”
“And where will you take me?”
“To the City of Simple Simons.”
Pinocchio thought a while and then said firmly:
“No, I don’t want to go.
Home is near, and I’m going where Father is waiting for me.
How unhappy he must be that I have not yet returned!
I have been a bad son, and the Talking Cricket was right when he said that a disobedient boy cannot be happy in this world.
I have learned this at my own expense.
Even last night in the theater, when Fire Eater. . . Brrrr!!!!! . . .
The shivers run up and down my back at the mere thought of it.”
“Well, then,” said the Fox, “if you really want to go home, go ahead, but you’ll be sorry.”
“You’ll be sorry,” repeated the Cat.
“Think well, Pinocchio, you are turning your back on Dame Fortune.”