“I do not know.”
“Shall I ever have the happiness of seeing him again and kissing him?”
“I think so; indeed, I am sure of it.”
At this answer Pinocchio was so delighted that he took the Fairy’s hands and began to kiss them with such fervor that he seemed beside himself. Then, raising his face and looking at her lovingly, he asked:
“Tell me, little mamma: then it was not true that you were dead?”
“It seems not,” said the Fairy, smiling.
“If you only knew the sorrow I felt and the tightening of my throat when I read, ‘Here lies—’ ”
“I know it, and it is on that account that I have forgiven you. I saw from the sincerity of your grief that you had a good heart; and when boys have good hearts, even if they are scamps and have got bad habits, there is always something to hope for; that is, there is always hope that they will turn to better ways. That is why I came to look for you here. I will be your mamma.”
“Oh, how delightful!” shouted Pinocchio, jumping for joy.
“You must obey me and do everything that I bid you.”
“Willingly, willingly, willingly!”
“Tomorrow,” rejoined the Fairy, “you will begin to go to school.”
Pinocchio became at once a little less joyful.
“Then you must choose an art, or a trade, according to your own wishes.”
Pinocchio became very grave.
“What are you muttering between your teeth?” asked the Fairy in an angry voice.
“I was saying,” moaned the puppet in a low voice, “that it seemed to me too late for me to go to school now.”
“No, sir. Keep it in mind that it is never too late to learn and to instruct ourselves.”
“But I do not wish to follow either an art or a trade.”
“Why?”
“Because it tires me to work.”
“My boy,” said the Fairy, “those who talk in that way end almost always either in prison or in the hospital. Let me tell you that every man, whether he is born rich or poor, is obliged to do something in this world—to occupy himself, to work. Woe to those who lead slothful lives. Sloth is a dreadful illness and must be cured at once, in childhood. If not, when we are old it can never be cured.”
Pinocchio was touched by these words and, lifting his head quickly, he said to the Fairy:
“I will study, I will work, I will do all that you tell me, for indeed I have become weary of being a puppet, and I wish at any price to become a boy. You promised me that I should, did you not?”
“I did promise you, and it now depends upon yourself.”
XXVI
The Terrible Dog Fish
The following day Pinocchio went to the government school. Imagine the delight of all the little rogues, when they saw a puppet walk into their school! They set up a roar of laughter that never ended. They played him all sorts of tricks. One boy carried off his cap, another pulled his jacket behind; one tried to give him a pair of inky mustachios just under his nose, and another attempted to tie strings to his feet and hands to make him dance.
For a short time Pinocchio pretended not to care and got on as well as he could; but at last, losing all patience, he turned to those who were teasing him most and making game of him, and said to them, looking very angry:
“Beware, boys! I have not come here to be your buffoon. I respect others, and I intend to be respected.”
“Well said, boaster! You have spoken like a book!” howled the young rascals, convulsed with mad laughter, and one of them, more impertinent than the others, stretched out his hand, intending to seize the puppet by the end of his nose.
But he was not in time, for Pinocchio stuck his leg out from under the table and gave him a great kick on his shins.
“Oh, what hard feet!” roared the boy, rubbing the bruise that the puppet had given him.
“And what elbows! even harder than his feet!” said another, who for his rude tricks had received a blow in the stomach.
But, nevertheless, the kick and the blow acquired at once for Pinocchio the sympathy and the esteem of all the boys in the school. They all made friends with him and liked him heartily.
And even the master praised him, for he found him attentive, studious and intelligent—always the first to come to school, and the last to leave when school was over.
But he had one fault: he made too many friends, and amongst them were several young rascals well known for their dislike to study and love of mischief.
The master warned him every day, and even the good Fairy never failed to tell him and to repeat constantly:
“Take care, Pinocchio! Those bad schoolfellows of yours will end sooner or later by making you lose all love of study, and perhaps they may even bring upon you some great misfortune.”
“There is no fear of that!” answered the puppet, shrugging his shoulders and touching his forehead as much as to say: “There is so much sense here!”
Now it happened that one fine day, as he was on his way to school, he met several of his usual companions who, coming up to him, asked:
“Have you heard the great news?”
“No.”
“In the sea near here a Dogfish has appeared as big as a mountain.”
“Not really? Can it be the same Dogfish that was there when my papa was drowned?”
“We are going to the shore to see him. Will you come with us?”
“No; I am going to school.”
“What matters school? We can go to school tomorrow. Whether we have a lesson more or a lesson less, we shall always remain the same donkeys.”
“But what will the master say?”
“The master may say what he likes. He is paid on purpose to grumble all day.”
“And my mamma?”
“Mammas know nothing,” answered those bad little boys.
“Do you know what
