The Pinocchio Megapack: 4 Classic Puppet Tales

by Carlo Collodi

  “No. Please tell me.”

  “Because the back part of its body has no hard covering. So the crab, to protect itself, uses the shell as a house and thus goes about safely.”

  “He must be a clever little fellow to think of that! But this flower on the top—is that a part of the crab’s body?”

  “That is not a flower; it is an animal.”

  “An animal! But don’t you see that it has leaves all around?”

  “Yes, and in fact it has the name of a flower. It is called a sea anemone. But if you look closely you will see the little leaves, as you called them, moving busily.”

  “It is really true!”

  “They are tiny arms which the anemone uses to get its food. Throw a piece of meat near them, and you will see them gather themselves together. In a second the meat will disappear into the body of the animal.”

  “It seems hardly possible,” said Pinocchio again and again, as he watched the anemone closely.

  “This anemone,” continued Globicephalous, “is a great friend of the hermit crab. Whenever you find one of these crabs you will find an anemone on its back. When the crab grows and has to move to a larger shell, do you think, my illustrious Mr. Pinocchio, that he abandons his tenant? Never! The anemone has no legs, so the crab takes her very carefully in his claws and carries her to his new home.”

  “It sounds like a fairy story!” Pinocchio exclaimed, wonderstruck.

  “Still these things are real. Your Honor, and are seen here every day.”

  Pinocchio, who had liked the idea of being called “Illustrious” was delighted to hear himself addressed as “Your Honor.”

  “So this servant thinks me a great man,” he thought proudly to himself. He strutted round as if the whole world belonged to him. While he was walking with his head in the air and his hands in his pockets, he struck a round, flat object with his foot. Picking it up, he looked it over carefully.

  “Does Your Honor know what that is?” the cetacean asked him mockingly.

  “Of course. It is the bellows my cook lost a few weeks ago, and this,” he continued, picking up another object, “is the crumb brush our maid lost last Sunday and looked all over the house for. I wonder how they came to be here?”

  Globicephalous turned a somersault, the better to hide his laughing face.

  Pinocchio, thinking that the dolphin believed all his tales, continued his proud walk.

  Lying on top of a rock not far off was a transparent object of beautiful colors. It was closely woven like a net work, and looked like a fan.

  Pinocchio, having started on the road of story-telling, did not feel like turning back.

  “Just see how careless that maid was,” he began again. “Last summer I gave her this beautiful lace fan, and now see where I find it! Good care she takes of my gifts!”

  Globicephalous continued his somersaults.

  “Look again! These are surely the plants that were stolen from my conservatories last winter—”

  Globicephalous had had too much. He interrupted Pinocchio with: “And this, if it weren’t so small, might be used to whip boys who sell tinsel for gold.”

  Globicephalous was holding up a small object, which really looked like a whip.

  “What do you mean?” haughtily asked Pinocchio. “Do you dare to doubt my word?”

  “I don’t doubt it. I know there is not a word of truth in anything you have said.”

  “How do you know? Isn’t it possible for me to have a palace and servants?”

  “You might have, but you haven’t.”

  “Who told you so?”

  “I know it without being told.”

  “How?”

  “Listen. Do you want to know what these two things are—the bellows and the brush?

  “The bellows is a horseshoe crab. If you turn it over you will see it has ten legs like a lobster. The brush is a sea fan. The little plants, which were stolen from your conservatories, are simply coral polyps. All except the crab are zoophytes.”

  “Now do you see, my great Mr. Pinocchio, why I cannot very well believe all your tales?”

  Pinocchio was simply breathless. “Zoophyte! Zoophyte!” he exclaimed. “What does that big word mean?”

  “Oh,” replied Globicephalous, with a learned air. “That word means an animal that looks like a plant.

  “By the way, I remember you asked Mr. Tursio for a feather to put in your cap. Here it is.” And Globicephalous gave the marionette a long, delicate, feathery object of a bright yellow color.

  “And what is this?”

  “Another beautiful zoophyte. And to finish the trimming of your cap you might use this five-pointed starfish.”

  “What? Is this a fish, also? Surely you are mistaken!”

  “Oh, no, Mr. Pinocchio, I am perfectlysure that I am not mistaken. The starfish is just as much an animal as the coral is. It was a long time before people learned that coral is made by tiny living animals. But now everybody knows that there are hundreds of the little coral animals living and working together on the same branch. These little animals grow and multiply very quickly. In a short time they even make mountains under the sea.”

  “You know how to tell fanciful tales better than I, Globicephalous.”

  “But my tales happen to be true ones, though they do seem fanciful. That mountain you see there is made by coral polyps. If you should climb to the top of it, you would find yourself on an island.”

  “Very well. I’ll try it. I might find my father.”

  “Yes, or you might meet some one, and ask whether he has been seen.”

  “Ask! Do people live on islands in the middle of the sea? What are you talking about?”

  “Let me explain. After the islands are made, little by little they are covered with earth. Then plants begin to appear from seed blown by the wind or dropped by the birds. Then man may come. Why not, my boy?”

  “I have enough to think over just now. Good-by for a time.”

  “Good-by. I will stay here. Do not lose your way.”

  Without answering, Pinocchio began to climb. He was as agile as a monkey, and was soon far up.

  “I do hope I shall not lose my way,” he thought. “What a joke it would be to be lost at the bottom of the sea!”

  CHAPTER VII

  Pinocchio climbed and climbed. The poor boy was getting very tired. Still he wanted to be sure the dolphin was right. So he went on bravely.

  At last the water began to grow lighter, and even his wooden head could understand that he must be near the surface.

  “It must be the light of the sun which I see,” he thought. “On, my brave Pinocchio, and the top will soon be reached. Hurrah! Here I am!”

  With a bound he was—yes, the dolphin was right—on the shore of a real island.

  Shaking the water out of his clothes, he looked around. Those little beings, the corals, had certainly worked wonders.

  The island was rather bare of trees and grass, but there was a cave near the shore which soon attracted Pinocchio’s attention. He went into it. It was not very large, but one could easily see that a man had been there.

  “People must certainly be living here. From now on I shall have to believe Globicephalous,” thought the marionette.

  When he came out, he walked around and started to explore the island. He came to a small pond. In it lived not only frogs, but also thousands of other tiny animals.

  Pinocchio stopped to look at the water. It looked as green as grass. He certainly would have had another shock if some one had told him that the tiny animals that lived

  In it made it green. Yet that was really the case.

  These animals are not visible to the naked eye. Still they are present in such great numbers that water sometimes looks
green, sometimes red, and at other times even black, on account of them and their color.

  This was not what interested Pinocchio most, however. He saw other animals swimming around very quickly. Some were very tiny, very long, and had no legs.

  Others, a little larger, had two legs. Others had four legs, and still larger ones had a short bit of a tail.

  Perhaps you have guessed, children, what Pinocchio was looking at. The small black animals were tadpoles.

  When he was tired of looking at the pond, Pinocchio turned toward the sea. He thought he might see his father, but he was disappointed. Suddenly he gave a great shout of surprise.

  And no wonder! As if by magic a fleet of tiny boats had appeared on the surface of the water. They were no larger than an egg shell. Nor was this all. From each little skiff rose two little rose-colored sails, and each tiny boat put out three pairs of oars as long as knitting needles.

  “I wonder where the little boats came from,” cried Pinocchio. “Surely this must be fairyland.”

  “No, my boy, you are not in fairyland,” he heard a voice behind him saying. “Those are simply shells.”

  Turning quickly, Pinocchio saw a little fat man standing before him, looking him over.

  “Shells!” repeated the marionette, too surprised to think of anything else to say.

  “Yes, shells.”

  “And are they also animals?” Pinocchio had asked this question so many times that it came from him unconsciously.

  “Yes, they are. They are small mollusks of strange form. When they come to the surface of the sea, they turn the opening of their shells upwards. Then they raise their sails, put out their oars, and float away. They are called argonauts. Aren’t they pretty?”

  “How beautiful they are! But see! They are disappearing!”

  “Yes, because clouds are gathering. It looks as if a storm were coming up, and these little animals don’t like storms. So they are taking refuge under the water.”

  “By the way,” began Pinocchio, “will you please tell me whether or not you have met a little old man looking for his son?”

  “No, I have not.”

  “Well, then, good-by. It is getting late, and I must meet some friends of mine.”

  But the little man did not wish him to go, so he held him by the arm.

  “Listen here, my little man, where did you come from?”

  “From the sea.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I am taking a trip under the sea with three dolphin friends of mine.”

  “Under the sea! How can you live there?”

  “One of the dolphins made me an antibian.”

  “You mean amphibian, my boy. What a wonderful experience you must be having.”

  “Yes, but please let me go now. I must meet my friends, or they will go without me.”

  “In a minute. But first tell me where you got that beautiful shell you have on your head.”

  “The dolphin Tursio gave it to me. He called it a long name, and said it was very rare.”

  “I know it. Will you give it to me?”

  “No, I like it too much myself.”

  “You won’t? Well, then, I shall have to take it,” and the man quickly put out a hand for it.

  But Pinocchio was quicker still. He gave a great jump, but oh! poor fellow, he did not know how near the edge of the rock he was. Before he could realize it, he fell headfirst into the water.

  CHAPTER VIII

  Down—down—Pinocchio sank, straight to the bottom of the sea.

  And here we must remember that we are to think of Pinocchio as a real boy of flesh and blood. Only the shell was of wood. Otherwise he would have floated away on the surface of the water.

  When he finally touched sand he felt half dead. It was not a very pleasant experience to fall through so much water.

  After a while, feeling better, he got up and looked around. He was in a strange place, a place he had never seen before. Of Globicephalous there was no sign.

  The poor boy was frightened almost to death. He thought a trick had been played upon him. But if he had had his wits about him, he would not have been so puzzled.

  Poor thoughtless marionette! He did not remember how he had walked around in his explorations. He had fallen into the sea on the eastern side of the island, and Globicephalous was waiting for him on the southern side. But Pinocchio’s wooden mind knew nothing of east or south.

  “Oh! poor me,” he could not help crying, “and now what shall I do? I cannot climb this steep rock. If I remain here, I shall be eaten in no time by some of these fish I see swimming around.”

  In fact, immense tunnies were passing near him. Enormous rays, looking like giant fans, dashed by. Over him glided horrible uranoscopes, or stargazers.

  These fish, like the halibut, have both eyes on the tops of their heads, and so can only see above them. Luckily, Pinocchio was under them, otherwise—

  “I am afraid I am not very safe here,” observed Pinocchio, whose knees were beginning to feel weak. “If these fish notice me, I shall disappear. I do wish I could find dear old Globicephalous.”

  Thoroughly frightened, he started to run madly along. Of course he ran in the wrong direction.

  “I wonder what this is,” he grumbled. He had stepped on something large and hard.

  He pushed the thick seaweeds aside. In their midst he found a large turtle. For a wonder Pinocchio knew what it was.

  “How fortunate you are!” sighed the marionette. “At least you have a house. In that armor of yours you are safe from anybody.”

  But such did not seem to be the case. The harmless reptile was lying quietly in the weeds trying to sleep.

  But even though Pinocchio was in such a plight as to be lost in the sea, still the love of mischief had not left him. Taking the poor animal by its hind legs he turned it over on its back.

  The poor thing struggled and tried to right itself, but all in vain. When a turtle is on its back, it has to stay there.

  This is so well known that when fishermen catch them they turn them over, sure of finding them in the same position even a day later.

  Seeing another shell near by, Pinocchio was about to treat it in the same manner. But as it felt very light he examined it closely. It was empty. The animal had probably been dead a long time, and the shell alone was left. It was almost a yard long.

  As he was looking at it, he chanced to turn his head upward. Horrors! What did he see? An enormous animal was about to throw itself upon him!

  No one had ever told Pinocchio what this fish was. Still, even he could easily guess its name. Its strange shape is so much like that of a large hammer that it is unmistakable. It was the terrible hammer that Tursio had spoken about.

  “I am lost,” breathed Pinocchio, closing his eyes and throwing himself flat amongst the seaweed.

  Who could have blamed the poor boy for being frightened? He had seen that gray mass coming nearer and nearer with wide-open mouth. He had seen the large black and gold eyes at the ends of the head, gleaming brightly with thinking of the coming feast. Poor fellow!

  But just as he was imagining himself in the shark’s mouth Pinocchio realized that the minutes were passing and that he was still alive.

  “He may have changed his mind about committing a marionetticide,” he reflected with eyes still closed.

  Time passed, and thinking that the shark had not courage enough to attack him, Pinocchio had the courage to—open his eyes. He could hardly believe what he saw. The shark was moving away. Still, he could see that the fish was going because he had to, not because he wanted to. Looking more carefully then, he saw a strange sight.

  Three small fish were sticking to the sides of the hammer-head, and were pulling him away. Our hero had never seen such s
trange-looking animals as those three fishes. They were small and narrow, and on their heads each had a large flat object, which looked just like a dish.

  If the dolphins had been there, they would have told Pinocchio that these dark-colored fish are called remora. With the flat disk they can attach themselves to other fish. Sometimes they let themselves be carried. At other times, when they feel in the mood for mischief, they pull others along wherever they wish. This is what happened to the shark.

  “Those fish certainly saved my life,” thought Pinocchio. “But I hope the shark won’t do to them what he wanted to do to me.

  Feeling in need of a place of safety, he tried to hide himself in a large hole in a rock. But he had hardly put one foot in, when he felt his shoe being pulled off by a large claw. Two eyes at the ends of two long sticks glared ferociously at him. It was a large lobster. Pinocchio had disturbed Mr. Lobster while he was looking for dinner, and so had been punished. Happily for Pinocchio the lobster was satisfied with the shoe! If the claw had taken hold of the foot also, it might even have gone through the wood, and then, poor Pinocchio!

  In disturbing the lobster our hero must certainly have offended its whole family. Before he could realize it, the sand before him was full of horrible crustaceans. Frightened out of his wits, he could just look and wonder when they would stop coming. From every hole in the rock they came, little ones, big ones, flat ones, round ones.

  And ready to fight they certainly were With claws In the air and eyes roving madly they approached. Very carefully they looked the boy over. A lobster or a crab never begins to fight unless he knows what he has to deal with.

  And still they kept coming! Wherever Pinocchio turned, there was a horrible creature. To the right, the large mouth of a common lobster threatened him. To the left, an ugly spiny lobster shook his claws at him. Behind and before him the sand was covered with them, large green crabs, common crabs, porcelain crabs, common lobster, spider crabs, glass crabs, tiny fiddlers, and others.