The Adventures of Pinocchio - Chapter
22
Even though a boy may be very unhappy,
he very seldom
loses sleep over his worries. The Marionette, being no
exception to this rule, slept on peacefully for a few hours
till well along toward midnight, when he was awakened
by strange whisperings and stealthy sounds coming from
the yard. He stuck his nose out of the doghouse and saw
four slender, hairy animals. They were Weasels, small
animals very fond of both eggs and chickens. One of
them left her companions and, going to the door of the
doghouse, said in a sweet voice:
"Good evening, Melampo."
"My name is not Melampo," answered
Pinocchio.
"Who are you, then?"
"I am Pinocchio."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm the watchdog."
"But where is Melampo? Where
is the old dog
who used to live in this house?"
"He died this morning."
"Died? Poor beast! He was
so good! Still, judging
by your face, I think you, too, are a good-natured dog."
"I beg your pardon, I am
not a dog!"
"What are you, then?"
"I am a Marionette."
"Are you taking the place
of the watchdog?"
"I'm sorry to say that I
am. I'm being punished."
"Well, I shall make the
same terms with you that we had with
the dead Melampo. I am sure you will be glad to hear them."
"And what are the terms?"
"This is our plan: We'll
come once in a while, as in
the past, to pay a visit to this henhouse, and we'll take
away eight chickens. Of these, seven are for us, and one
for you, provided, of course, that you will make believe
you are sleeping and will not bark for the Farmer."
"Did Melampo really do that?" asked
Pinocchio.
"Indeed he did, and because
of that we were the best of
friends. Sleep away peacefully, and remember that before
we go we shall leave you a nice fat chicken all ready
for your breakfast in the morning. Is that understood?"
"Even too well," answered
Pinocchio. And shaking
his head in a threatening manner, he seemed to say, "We'll
talk this over in a few minutes, my friends."
As soon as the four Weasels had talked things over,
they went straight to the chicken coop which stood close
to the doghouse. Digging busily with teeth and claws,
they opened the little door and slipped in. But they were
no sooner in than they heard the door close with a sharp
bang.
The one who had done the trick was Pinocchio, who,
not satisfied with that, dragged a heavy stone in front
of it. That done, he started to bark. And he barked as
if he were a real watchdog: "Bow, wow, wow! Bow, wow!"
The Farmer heard the loud barks and jumped out of bed.
Taking his gun, he leaped to the window and shouted:
"What's the matter?"
"The thieves are here," answered
Pinocchio.
"Where are they?"
"In the chicken coop."
"I'll come down in a second."
And, in fact, he was down in the yard in a twinkling
and running toward the chicken coop.
He opened the door, pulled out the Weasels one by one,
and,
after tying them in a bag, said to them in a happy voice:
"You're in my hands at last! I could punish you now,
but I'll wait! In the morning you may come with me
to the inn and there you'll make a fine dinner for some
hungry mortal. It is really too great an honor for you,
one you do not deserve; but, as you see, I am really a
very kind and generous man and I am going to do this
for you!"
Then he went up to Pinocchio and began to pet and caress
him.
"How did you ever find them
out so quickly? And to think
that Melampo, my faithful Melampo, never saw them
in all these years!"
The Marionette could have told, then and there, all he
knew about the shameful contract between the dog and
the Weasels, but thinking of the dead dog, he said to
himself: "Melampo is dead. What is the use of accusing
him?
The dead are gone and they cannot defend themselves.
The best thing to do is to leave them in peace!"
"Were you awake or asleep when they came?" continued
the Farmer.
"I was asleep," answered Pinocchio, "but
they
awakened me with their whisperings. One of them even came
to the door of the doghouse and said to me, `If you promise
not to bark, we will make you a present of one of the
chickens for your breakfast.' Did you hear that? They
had the audacity to make such a proposition as that to
me!
For you must know that, though I am a very wicked Marionette
full of faults, still I never have been, nor ever shall
be, bribed."
"Fine boy!" cried the
Farmer, slapping him on the
shoulder in a friendly way. "You ought to be proud
of
yourself. And to show you what I think of you, you
are free from this instant!"
And he slipped the dog collar from his neck. |