It was no easy matter to be an emperor. There was a great deal of work to be done, and work was always tiresome to Pinocchio. Each day he must get out of bed at a fixed hour, and allow himself to be washed and oiled. Then came breakfast, and after that the ministers with the affairs of state.
True, his work did not seem hard. He had only to say “Yes” or “No.” But in the task of deciding whether it should be “Yes” or “No” lay the real difficulty.
Sometimes he would be left with only a few servants, among them some boys to entertain him or to drive away the flies with big feather dusters, which tickled his nose and made him sneeze. These were pleasant moments in his life, but he was often bored, and being a cunning rogue he thought out a plan by which once in a while he could be freed from care.
Among the boys at the court was one who resembled him in all things except in the color of his skin. What had Pinocchio planned?
One day, while strolling through the woods near the capital, he called the boy to him and taking his arm, said to him in a gentle voice, “Do you love your emperor?”
“Is it necessary to ask, your majesty?” replied the boy, moved to tears at such an honor.
“And should you like to do your emperor a favor?”
“Your majesty, to do you a service I would go at once, with only my feather duster to protect me, and pinch a boa constrictor’s tongue!”
“Good!” replied Pinocchio. “You are a fine lad, and you will become a great man. But let us put aside boa constrictors for the time. I have often been sad because I am not like my subjects. I should like to color my skin so that it would be like a native’s, dear Marameho,—like yours. You know how pleased the ministers would be.”
“Your majesty, it would be the brightest day of our lives!”
“Good boy!” exclaimed the marionette. “If you always answer so well, I promise you the place of keeper of the king’s treasures.”
The boy’s eyes shone.
“Well, can it be done?” asked the marionette.
“Nothing more simple, your majesty,” replied Marameho. “I know of a plant, the fruit of which will serve our purpose.”
“When can we get this wonderful dye?”
“To-day, if your majesty will permit me to absent myself for a short time,” replied Marameho with great respect.
“Go, go at once,” ordered the marionette, greatly delighted. “But wait; there is something more. We are alone and may drop our titles. Your majesty, your highness, weary me to death. Call me plain Pinocchio, and I will call you my dear Marameho.”
The poor boy was overcome with all this kindness, and planting a kiss upon the point of his emperor’s nose, he vanished through the trees.
The next day a proclamation was made throughout the empire. His royal and imperial highness had become as black as the blackest of his subjects.
The ministers were joyous, and they celebrated this happy event with a great feast. That day they did nothing but eat and dance.
As a rule the emperor, of course, could not take part in such amusements. It was his business to sit upon the throne while the ministers and the people danced and played before him. This time, however, the ancient law was broken. Pinocchio danced like a madman the entire night, while the faithful Marameho, clothed in the emperor’s garments, sat upon the throne. No one even dreamed of the exchange.
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg