chickens. After
the hare, he ordered some partridges, a few pheasants, a couple of
rabbits, and a dozen frogs and lizards. That was all. He felt ill, he
said, and could not eat another bite.

Pinocchio ate least of all. He asked for a bite of bread and a few nuts
and then hardly touched them. The poor fellow, with his mind on the
Field of Wonders, was suffering from a gold-piece indigestion.

Supper over, the Fox said to the Innkeeper:

"Give us two good rooms, one for Mr. Pinocchio and the other for me and
my friend. Before starting out, we'll take a little nap. Remember to
call us at midnight sharp, for we must continue on our journey."

"Yes, sir," answered the Innkeeper, winking in a knowing way at the Fox
and the Cat, as if to say, "I understand."

As soon as Pinocchio was in bed, he fell fast asleep and began to dream.
He dreamed he was in the middle of a field. The field was full of
vines heavy with grapes. The grapes were no other than gold coins which
tinkled merrily as they swayed in the wind. They seemed to say, "Let him
who wants us take us!"

Just as Pinocchio stretched out his hand to take a handful of them, he
was awakened by three loud knocks at the door. It was the Innkeeper who
had come to tell him that midnight had struck.

"Are my friends ready?" the Marionette asked him.

"Indeed, yes! They went two hours ago."

"Why in such a hurry?"

"Unfortunately the Cat received a telegram which said that his
first-born was suffering from chilblains and was on the point of death.
He could not even wait to say good-by to you."

"Did they pay for the supper?"

"How could they do such a thing? Being people of great refinement, they
did not want to offend you so deeply as not to allow you the honor of
paying the bill."

"Too bad! That offense would have been more than pleasing to me," said
Pinocchio, scratching his head.

"Where did my good friends say they would wait for me?" he added.

"At the Field of Wonders, at sunrise tomorrow morning."

Pinocchio paid a gold piece for the three suppers and started on his way
toward the field that was to make him a rich man.

He walked on, not knowing where he was going, for it was dark, so dark
that not a thing was visible. Round about him, not a leaf stirred. A few
bats skimmed his nose now and again and scared him half to death. Once
or twice he shouted, "Who goes there?" and the far-away hills echoed
back to him, "Who goes there? Who goes there? Who