One morning Pinocchio slipped out of bed before daybreak. He got up with a great desire to study, a feeling, it must be confessed, which did not often take hold of him. He dipped his wooden head into the cool, refreshing water, puffed very hard, dried himself, jumped up and down to stretch his legs, and in a few moments was seated at his small worktable.
There was his home work for the day,—twelve sums, four pages of penmanship, and the fable of “The Dog and the Rabbit” to learn by heart. He began with the fable, reciting it in a loud voice, like the hero in the play: “‘A dog was roaming about the fields, when from behind a little hill jumped a rabbit, which had been nibbling the tender grass.’
“Roaming, nibbling.—The teacher says this is beautiful language. Maybe it is; I have nothing to say about that. Well, one more.
“‘A dog was roaming about the fields—when he saw—run out—a rabbit which—which—’ I don’t know it; let’s begin again. ‘A dog was running about eating, eating—’ But eating what? Surely he did not eat grass!
“This fable is very hard; I cannot learn it. Well, I never did have much luck with dogs and rabbits! Let me try the sums. Eight and seven, seventeen; and three, nineteen; and six, twenty-three, put down two and carry three. Nine and three, eleven; and four, fourteen; put down the whole number—one, four; total, four hundred thirteen.
“Ah! good! very good! I do not wish to boast, but I have always had a great liking for arithmetic. Now to prove the answer: eight and seven, sixteen; and three, twenty-one; and six, twenty-four; put down four—why! it’s wrong! Eight and seven, fourteen; and three, nineteen; and six—wrong again!
“I know what the trouble is; the wind is not in the right quarter to-day for sums. Perhaps it would be better to take a walk in the open.”
No sooner said than done. Pinocchio went out into the street and filled his lungs with the fresh morning air.
“Ah! here, at least, one can breathe. It is a pity that I am beginning to feel hungry! Strange how things go wrong sometimes! Take the lessons—” he went on.
Listen! A noise of creaking wheels, of bells ringing, the voices of people, the cries of animals! Pinocchio stopped short. What could it all mean?
Down the street came a huge wagon drawn by three big mules. Behind it was a long train of men and women dressed in the strangest fashion. Some were on foot, some on horseback, some sat or lay on other wagons larger and heavier than the first. Two Moors, their scarlet turbans blazing in the sun, brought up the rear. With spears at rest and with shields held before them, they rode along, mounted on two snow-white horses.
Pinocchio stood with his mouth open. Only after the two Moors had passed did he discover the fact that he had legs, and that these were following on behind the procession. And he walked, walked, walked, until the carriages and all the people stopped in the big town square. A man with a deep voice began to give orders. In a short time there arose an immense tent, which hid from Pinocchio and the many others who had gathered in the square all those wonderful wagons, horses, mules, and strange people.
It may seem odd, but it is a fact that the school bell began to ring and Pinocchio never heard it!
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