here. In its place lay a small marble slab, which bore this
sad inscription:

HERE LIES
THE LOVELY FAIRY WITH AZURE HAIR
WHO DIED OF GRIEF
WHEN ABANDONED BY
HER LITTLE BROTHER PINOCCHIO

The poor Marionette was heartbroken at reading these words. He fell to
the ground and, covering the cold marble with kisses, burst into bitter
tears. He cried all night, and dawn found him still there, though his
tears had dried and only hard, dry sobs shook his wooden frame. But
these were so loud that they could be heard by the faraway hills.

As he sobbed he said to himself:

"Oh, my Fairy, my dear, dear Fairy, why did you die? Why did I not die,
who am so bad, instead of you, who are so good? And my father--where can
he be? Please dear Fairy, tell me where he is and I shall never, never
leave him again! You are not really dead, are you? If you love me, you
will come back, alive as before. Don't you feel sorry for me? I'm so
lonely. If the two Assassins come, they'll hang me again from the giant
oak tree and I will really die, this time. What shall I do alone in the
world? Now that you are dead and my father is lost, where shall I eat?
Where shall I sleep? Who will make my new clothes? Oh, I want to die!
Yes, I want to die! Oh, oh, oh!"

Poor Pinocchio! He even tried to tear his hair, but as it was only
painted on his wooden head, he could not even pull it.

Just then a large Pigeon flew far above him. Seeing the Marionette, he
cried to him:

"Tell me, little boy, what are you doing there?"

"Can't you see? I'm crying," cried Pinocchio, lifting his head toward
the voice and rubbing his eyes with his sleeve.

"Tell me," asked the Pigeon, "do you by chance know of a Marionette,
Pinocchio by name?"

"Pinocchio! Did you say Pinocchio?" replied the Marionette, jumping to
his feet. "Why, I am Pinocchio!"

At this answer, the Pigeon flew swiftly down to the earth. He was much
larger than a turkey.

"Then you know Geppetto also?"

"Do I know him? He's my father, my poor, dear father! Has he, perhaps,
spoken to you of me? Will you take me to him? Is he still alive? Answer
me, please! Is he still alive?"

"I left him three days ago on the shore of a large sea."

"What was he doing?"

"He was building a little boat with which to cross the ocean. For
the last four months, that poor man has been wandering around Europe,
looking for you. Not having found you yet, he has made up his mind to
look for