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32 - The Adventures of Pinocchio - Carlo Collodi · Classic Adventure Books Library

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  Chapter thirty two, in which Pinocchio's ears become like those of a donkey.
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  In a little while he changes into a real donkey and begins to bray.
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  Every One, at one time or another, has found some surprise awaiting him
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  of the kind which Pinocchio had on that eventful morning of his life. There
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  are but few w what was it? Well, I will tell you,
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  my dear little listeners. On awakening, Pinocchio put his hand up to his
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  head, and there he found guess. He found that during the night his
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  ears had grown at least ten full inches. You must know that Pinocchio,
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  even from his birth, had very small ears, so small indeed, that
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  to the naked eye they could hardly be seen. Fancy how he felt when
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  he noticed that overnight those two dainty organs had become as long as shoe brushes.
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  He went in search of a mirror, but not finding any, he
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  just filled a basin with water and looked at himself. And there he saw
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  what he never could have wished to see. His manly figure was adorned and
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  enriched by a beautiful pair of donkey's ears. I leave you to think of
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  the terrible grief, the shame, the despair of the poor marionette. He
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  began to cry, to scream, to knock his head against the wall.
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  But the more he shrieked, the longer, and the more Hairy grew his
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  ears at those piercing shrieks. A dormouse came into the room, a fat,
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  little dormouse who lived upstairs. Seeing Pinocchio so grief stricken, she asked
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  him anxiously, what is the matter, dear little neighbor. I am sick,
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  my little dormouse, very very sick, and from an illness which frightens
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  me. Do you understand how to feel the pulse? A little? Feel
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  mine? Then, and tell me if I have a fever. The dormouse
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  took Pinocchio's wrist between her paws, and after a few minutes, looked up
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  at him sorrowfully and said, my friend, I am sorry, but I
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  must give you some very sad news. What is it? You have a
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  very bad fever. But what fever? Is it? The donkey fever?
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  I don't know anything about that fever, answered Pinocchio, beginning to understand even
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  too well what was happening to him. Well, then I'll tell you all
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  about it, said the dormouse, know then that within two or three hours
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  you will no longer be a marionette, nor a boy, or what shall
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  I be? Within two or three hours you will become like a real donkey,
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  just like the ones that pull the fruit carts to market. What have
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  I done? What have I done? Cried Pinocchio, grasping his long ears
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  in his hands and pulling and tugging at them angrily, just as if they
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  belonged to another. My dear boy, answered the dormouse, to cheer him
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  up a bit. Oh, why worry now? What is done cannot be
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  undone. You know, Fate has decreed that all lazy boys who come to
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  hate books and schools and teachers spend all their days with toys and games much
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  sooner or later turn into donkeys. But is it really so, asked Pinocchio,
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  sobbing bitterly. I'm sorry to say it is, and tears are now
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  useless. You should have thought of this long before. But the fault is
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  not mine, believe me, little dormouse. The fault is all lamp Wicks.
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  Who is this lamp Wick? He's a classmate of mine. I wanted
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  to return home, I wanted to be obedient. I wanted to study and
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  to succeed in school. But lamp Wick said to me, why do you
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  waste your time studying? Why do you want to go to school? Come
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  with me to the land of toys. There will never study again. There
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  we can enjoy ourselves and be happy from morn till night. And why did
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  you follow the advice of that false friend. Why because my dear little must
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  dormouse. I I am a heedless marionette, heedless and heartless. Oh,
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  if I only had a bit of heart, I should never have abandoned that
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  good fairy who loved me so well, and who has been so kind to
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  me. And by this time I I should no longer be a marionette.
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  I should be a real boy, like all these friends of mine. Oh,
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  if I meet lamp Wick, I am going to tell him what I
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  think of him, and more too. After this long speech, Pinocchio walked
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  to the door of the room, but when he reached it, remembering his
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  donkey ears, he felt ashamed to show them in public and turned back.
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  He took a large cotton bag from a shelf, put it on his head,
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  and pulled it far down to his very nose, and thus adorned he
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  went out. He looked for lamp Wick everywhere along the streets, in the
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  squares, inside the theaters, everywhere, but he was not to be found.
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  He asked everyone who he met, but no one had seen him.
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  In desperation, he returned home and knocked at the door. Who is it,
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  asked lamp Wick. From within, it is, I answered Pinocchio.
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  Wait a minute. After a full half hour, the door opened. Another
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  surprise awaited Pinocchio. There in the room stood his friend, with a large
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  cotton bag on his head, pulled down to his very nose. At the
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  sight of that bag, Pinocchio felt slightly happier and thought to himself, my
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  friend must be suffering from the same sickness that I am. I wonder if
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  he too has donkey fever. But, pretending he had seen nothing, he
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  asked with a smile, Oh, how are you, my dear lamp Wick?
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  Very well? Like a mouse in a parmesan chees? Is that really
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  true? Why should I lie to you? Well? I beg your pardon,
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  my friend, But why any of you wearing that cotton bag over your
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  ears? Uh? The doctor has ordered it because one of my knees hurts,
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  and you, dear Pinocchio, why are you wearing that cotton bag down
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  on your nose? The doctor has ordered it because I have a bruised foot.
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  Oh my, poor Pinocchio, Oh my, poor lamp Wick. An
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  embarrassingly long silence followed these words, during which time the two friends looked at
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  each other in a mocking way. Finally, Pinocchio, in a voice sweet
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  as honey and soft as a flute, said to his companion, tell me,
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  lamp Wick, dear friend, have you ever suffered from an earache?
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  Never? And you never? Still? Since this morning, my ear has
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  been torturing me. So is mine yours too? Which year? Is it?
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  Both of them? And yours? Both of them too? I wonder
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  if it could be the same sickness. I'm afraid it is. Will you
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  do me a favor, lamp Wick, gladly with my whole heart? Will
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  you let me see your ears? Why not? Ah? But before I
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  show you mine, I want to see yours, Dear Pinocchio. No,
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  you must show yours first. Oh no, my dear, yours first?
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  Then mine? Well, then, said Pinocchio, let us make a contract.
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  Well, let's hear the contract. Let us take off our caps together,
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  all right, all right, ready. Then Pinocchio began to count one,
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  two, three, and at the word three, the two boys pulled
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  off their caps and threw them high in the air. And then a scene
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  took place which is hard to believe, but it is all too true.
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  Pinocchio and his friend lamp Wick, when they saw each other, both stricken
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  by the same misfortune, instead of feeling sorrowful and ashamed, began to poke
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  fun at each other, and after much nonsense, they ended by bursting out
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  into hearty laughter. They laughed and laughed, and laughed and laughed again,
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  and laughed until they ached, laughed until they cried. But all of a
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  sudden, lamp Wick stopped laughing. He tottered and almost fell pale as a
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  ghost. He turned to Pinocchio and said, help, help Pinocchio. What's
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  the matter? Oh help me? Ah, I can't stand up. I
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  can't either, cried Pinocchio, and his laughter turned to tears as he stumbled
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  about helplessly. They had hardly finished speaking when both of them fell on all
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  fours and began running and jumping around the room. And as they ran,
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  their arms turned into legs, their faces lengthened into snouts, and their backs
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  became covered with long gray hairs. This was humiliation enough, but the most
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  horrible moment was the one in which the two poor creatures felt their tails appear.
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  Overcome with shame and grief, they tried to cry and bemoan their fate.
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  But what is done can't be undone. Instead of moans and cries,
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  they burst forth into loud donkey brays, which sounded very much like e aw
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  e aw eat aw. And at that moment a loud knocking was heard at
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  the door, and a voice called to them, apin, I am the
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  little man, the driver of the wagon which brought you here. Open,
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  I say, or beware. End of Chapter thirty two.