Hall Lee - Adventures of pinocchio (amazonclassics edition)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by AmazonClassics, Seattle

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and AmazonClassics are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-10: 1542049679

ISBN-13: 9781542049672

eISBN: 9781542099677

Series design by Jeff Miller, Faceout Studio

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

How it happened that Mastro Cherry, carpenter, found a piece of wood that wept and laughed like a child.

Centuries ago there lived

A king! my little readers will say immediately.

No, children, you are mistaken. Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm.

I do not know how this really happened, yet the fact remains that one fine day this piece of wood found itself in the shop of an old carpenter. His real name was Mastro Antonio, but everyone called him Mastro Cherry, for the tip of his nose was so round and red and shiny that it looked like a ripe cherry.

As soon as he saw that piece of wood, Mastro Cherry was filled with joy. Rubbing his hands together happily, he mumbled half to himself:

This has come in the nick of time. I shall use it to make the leg of a table.

He grasped the hatchet quickly to peel off the bark and shape the wood. But as he was about to give it the first blow, he stood still with arm uplifted, for he had heard a wee, little voice say in a beseeching tone: Please be careful! Do not hit me so hard!

What a look of surprise shone on Mastro Cherrys face! His funny face became still funnier.

He turned frightened eyes about the room to find out where that wee, little voice had come from and he saw no one! He looked under the benchno one! He peeped inside the closetno one! He searched among the shavingsno one! He opened the door to look up and down the streetand still no one!

Oh, I see! he then said, laughing and scratching his Wig. It can easily be seen that I only thought I heard the tiny voice say the words! Well, wellto work once more.

He struck a most solemn blow upon the piece of wood.

Oh, oh! You hurt! cried the same far-away little voice.

Mastro Cherry grew dumb, his eyes popped out of his head, his mouth opened wide, and his tongue hung down on his chin.

As soon as he regained the use of his senses, he said, trembling and stuttering from fright:

Where did that voice come from, when there is no one around? Might it be that this piece of wood has learned to weep and cry like a child? I can hardly believe it. Here it isa piece of common firewood, good only to burn in the stove, the same as any other. Yetmight someone be hidden in it? If so, the worse for him. Ill fix him!

With these words, he grabbed the log with both hands and started to knock it about unmercifully. He threw it to the floor, against the walls of the room, and even up to the ceiling.

He listened for the tiny voice to moan and cry. He waited two minutesnothing; five minutesnothing; ten minutesnothing.

Oh, I see, he said, trying bravely to laugh and ruffling up his wig with his hand. It can easily be seen I only imagined I heard the tiny voice! Well, wellto work once more!

The poor fellow was scared half to death, so he tried to sing a gay song in order to gain courage.

He set aside the hatchet and picked up the plane to make the wood smooth and even, but as he drew it to and fro, he heard the same tiny voice. This time it giggled as it spoke:

Stop it! Oh, stop it! Ha, ha, ha! You tickle my stomach.

This time poor Mastro Cherry fell as if shot. When he opened his eyes, he found himself sitting on the floor.

His face had changed; fright had turned even the tip of his nose from red to deepest purple.

CHAPTER 2

Mastro Cherry gives the piece of wood to his friend Geppetto, who takes it to make himself a Marionette that will dance, fence, and turn somersaults.

In that very instant, a loud knock sounded on the door. Come in, said the carpenter, not having an atom of strength left with which to stand up.

At the words, the door opened and a dapper little old man came in. His name was Geppetto, but to the boys of the neighborhood he was Polendina, on account of the wig he always wore which was just the color of yellow corn.

Geppetto had a very bad temper. Woe to the one who called him Polendina! He became as wild as a beast and no one could soothe him.

Good day, Mastro Antonio, said Geppetto. What are you doing on the floor?

I am teaching the ants their A B Cs.

Good luck to you!

What brought you here, friend Geppetto?

My legs. And it may flatter you to know, Mastro Antonio, that I have come to you to beg for a favor.

Here I am, at your service, answered the carpenter, raising himself on to his knees.

This morning a fine idea came to me.

Lets hear it.

I thought of making myself a beautiful wooden Marionette. It must be wonderful, one that will be able to dance, fence, and turn somersaults. With it I intend to go around the world, to earn my crust of bread and cup of wine. What do you think of it?

Bravo, Polendina! cried the same tiny voice which came from no one knew where.

On hearing himself called Polendina, Mastro Geppetto turned the color of a red pepper and, facing the carpenter, said to him angrily:

Why do you insult me?

Who is insulting you?

You called me Polendina.

I did not.

I suppose you think I did! Yet I KNOW it was you.

No!

Yes!

No!

Yes!

And growing angrier each moment, they went from words to blows, and finally began to scratch and bite and slap each other.

When the fight was over, Mastro Antonio had Geppettos yellow wig in his hands and Geppetto found the carpenters curly wig in his mouth.

Give me back my wig! shouted Mastro Antonio in a surly voice.

You return mine and well be friends.

The two little old men, each with his own wig back on his own head, shook hands and swore to be good friends for the rest of their lives.

Well then, Mastro Geppetto, said the carpenter, to show he bore him no ill will, what is it you want?

I want a piece of wood to make a Marionette. Will you give it to me?

Mastro Antonio, very glad indeed, went immediately to his bench to get the piece of wood which had frightened him so much. But as he was about to give it to his friend, with a violent jerk it slipped out of his hands and hit against poor Geppettos thin legs.

Ah! Is this the gentle way, Mastro Antonio, in which you make your gifts? You have made me almost lame!

I swear to you I did not do it!

It was I , of course!

Its the fault of this piece of wood.

Youre right; but remember you were the one to throw it at my legs.

I did not throw it!

Liar!

Geppetto, do not insult me or I shall call you Polendina.

Idiot.

Polendina!

Donkey!