“Let him cry; he will laugh when he is a bridegroom.”
“But have you by chance taught him to talk?”
“No; but he spent three years in a company of learned dogs, and he learned to mutter a few words.”
“Poor beast!”
“Come, come,” said the little man, “don’t let us waste time in seeing a donkey cry. Mount him and let us go on: the night is cold and the road is long.”
Pinocchio obeyed without another word. In the morning about daybreak they arrived safely in the “Land of Boobies.”
It was a country unlike any other country in the world. The population was composed entirely of boys. The oldest were fourteen, and the youngest scarcely eight years old. In the streets there was such merriment, noise and shouting that it was enough to turn anybody’s head. There were troops of boys everywhere. Some were playing with nuts, some with battledores, some with balls. Some rode velocipedes, others wooden horses. A party were playing at hide and seek, a few were chasing each other. Some were reciting, some singing, some leaping. Some were amusing themselves with walking on their hands with their feet in the air; others were trundling hoops or strutting about dressed as generals, wearing leaf helmets and commanding a squadron of cardboard soldiers. Some were laughing, some shouting, some were calling out; others clapped their hands, or whistled, or clucked like a hen who has just laid an egg.
In every square, canvas theaters had been erected and they were crowded with boys from morning till evening. On the walls of the houses there were inscriptions written in charcoal: “Long live playthings, we will have no more schools; down with arithmetic,” and similar other fine sentiments, all in bad spelling.
Pinocchio, Candlewick and the other boys who had made the journey with the little man, had scarcely set foot in the town before they were in the thick of the tumult, and I need not tell you that in a few minutes they had made acquaintance with everybody. Where could happier or more contented boys be found?
In the midst of continual games and every variety of amusement, the hours, the days and the weeks passed like lightning.
“Oh, what a delightful life!” said Pinocchio, whenever by chance he met Candlewick.
“See, then, if I was not right?” replied the other. “And to think that you did not want to come! To think that you had taken it into your head to return home to your Fairy, and to lose your time in studying! If you are this moment free from the bother of books and school, you must acknowledge that you owe it to me, to my advice, and to my persuasions. It is only friends who know how to render such great services.”
“It is true, Candlewick! If I am now a really happy boy, it is all your doing. But do you know what the master used to say when he talked to me of you? He always said to me: ‘Do not associate with that rascal Candlewick, for he is a bad companion, and will only lead you into mischief!’ ”
“Poor master!” replied the other, shaking his head. “I know only too well that he disliked me, and amused himself by calumniating me; but I am generous and I forgive him!”
“Noble soul!” said Pinocchio, embracing his friend affectionately and kissing him between the eyes.
This delightful life had gone on for five months. The days had been entirely spent in play and amusement, without a thought of books or school, when one morning Pinocchio awoke to a most disagreeable surprise that put him into a very bad humor.
XXXII
Pinocchio Turns Into a Donkey
The surprise was that Pinocchio, when he awoke, scratched his head, and in scratching his head he discovered, to his great astonishment, that his ears had grown more than a hand.
You know that the puppet from his birth had always had very small ears—so small that they were not visible to the naked eye. You can imagine then what he felt when he found that during the night his ears had become so long that they seemed like two brooms.
He went at once in search of a glass that he might look at himself, but, not being able to find one, he filled the basin of his washing-stand with water, and he saw reflected what he certainly would never have wished to see. He saw his head embellished with a magnificent pair of donkey’s ears!
Only think of poor Pinocchio’s sorrow, shame and despair!
He began to cry and roar, and he beat his head against the wall, but the more he cried the longer his ears grew; they grew, and grew, and became hairy towards the points.
At the sound of his loud outcries a beautiful little Marmot that lived on the first floor came into the room. Seeing the puppet in such grief she asked earnestly:
“What has happened to you, my dear fellow-lodger?”
“I am ill, my dear little Marmot, very ill, and my illness frightens me. Do you understand counting a pulse?”
“A little.”
“Then feel and see if by chance I have got fever.”
The little Marmot raised her right forepaw, and, after having felt Pinocchio’s pulse, she said to him, sighing:
“My friend, I am grieved to be obliged to give you bad news!”
“What is it?”
“You have got a very bad fever!”
“What fever is it?”
“It is donkey fever.”
“That is a fever that I do not understand,” said the puppet, but he understood it only too well.
“Then I will explain it to you,” said the Marmot. “You must know that in two or three hours you will be no longer a puppet, or a boy.”
“Then what shall I be?”
“In two or three hours you will become really and truly a little donkey, like those that draw carts and carry cabbages and salad to market.”
“Oh, unfortunate that I am! unfortunate that I am!” cried Pinocchio, seizing his two ears with his hands and pulling them and tearing them furiously
