The great battle between Pinocchio and his playmates.
One is wounded.Pinocchio is arrestedGoing like the wind, Pinocchio took but a very short time to reach the shore.He glanced all about him, but there was no sign of a Shark.The sea was as smooth as glass.
"Hey there, boys! Where's that Shark?" he asked, turning to his playmates.
"He may have gone for his breakfast," said one of them, laughing.
"Or, perhaps, he went to bed for a little nap,"said another, laughing also.
From the answers and the laughter which followed them, Pinocchio understood that the boys had played a trick on him.
"What now?" he said angrily to them."What's the joke?""Oh, the joke's on you!" cried his tormentors, laughing more heartily than ever, and dancing gayly around the Marionette.
"And that is--?"
"That we have made you stay out of school to come with us.Aren't you ashamed of being such a goody-goody, and of studying so hard? You never have a bit of enjoyment.""And what is it to you, if I do study?"
"What does the teacher think of us, you mean?""Why?"
"Don't you see? If you study and we don't, we pay for it.After all, it's only fair to look out for ourselves.""What do you want me to do?"
"Hate school and books and teachers, as we all do.They are your worst enemies, you know, and they like to make you as unhappy as they can.""And if I go on studying, what will you do to me?""You'll pay for it!"
"Really, you amuse me," answered the Marionette, nodding his head.
"Hey, Pinocchio," cried the tallest of them all, "that will do.
We are tired of hearing you bragging about yourself, you little turkey cock! You may not be afraid of us, but remember we are not afraid of you, either!
You are alone, you know, and we are seven.""Like the seven sins," said Pinocchio, still laughing.
"Did you hear that? He has insulted us all.He has called us sins.""Pinocchio, apologize for that, or look out!""Cuck--oo!" said the Marionette, mocking them with his thumb to his nose.
"You'll be sorry!"
"Cuck--oo!"
"We'll whip you soundly!"
"Cuck--oo!"
"You'll go home with a broken nose!"
"Cuck--oo!"
"Very well, then! Take that, and keep it for your supper,"called out the boldest of his tormentors.
And with the words, he gave Pinocchio a terrible blow on the head.
Pinocchio answered with another blow, and that was the signal for the beginning of the fray.In a few moments, the fight raged hot and heavy on both sides.
Pinocchio, although alone, defended himself bravely.
With those two wooden feet of his, he worked so fast that his opponents kept at a respectful distance.
Wherever they landed, they left their painful mark and the boys could only run away and howl.
Enraged at not being able to fight the Marionette at close quarters, they started to throw all kinds of books at him.
Readers, geographies, histories, grammars flew in all directions.
But Pinocchio was keen of eye and swift of movement, and the books only passed over his head, landed in the sea, and disappeared.
The fish, thinking they might be good to eat, came to the top of the water in great numbers.Some took a nibble, some took a bite, but no sooner had they tasted a page or two, than they spat them out with a wry face, as if to say:
"What a horrid taste! Our own food is so much better!"Meanwhile, the battle waxed more and more furious.
At the noise, a large Crab crawled slowly out of the water and, with a voice that sounded like a trombone suffering from a cold, he cried out:
"Stop fighting, you rascals! These battles between boys rarely end well.Trouble is sure to come to you!"Poor Crab! He might as well have spoken to the wind.
Instead of listening to his good advice, Pinocchio turned to him and said as roughly as he knew how:
"Keep quiet, ugly Gab! It would be better for you to chew a few cough drops to get rid of that cold you have.
Go to bed and sleep! You will feel better in the morning."In the meantime, the boys, having used all their books, looked around for new ammunition.Seeing Pinocchio's bundle lying idle near-by, they somehow managed to get hold of it.
One of the books was a very large volume, an arithmetic text, heavily bound in leather.It was Pinocchio's pride.
