collar and carried him to
his house as if he had been a young lamb.

When he reached the yard in front of the house he threw him roughly on
the ground and, putting his foot on his neck, he said to him:

"It is late and I want to go to bed; we will settle our accounts
tomorrow. In the meanwhile, as the dog who kept guard at night died
today, you shall take his place at once. You shall be my watch-dog."

And, taking a great collar covered with brass knobs, he strapped it so
tightly round his throat that he was not able to draw his head out of
it. A heavy chain attached to the collar was fastened to the wall.

"If it should rain tonight," he then said to him, "you can go and lie
down in the kennel; the straw that has served as a bed for my poor dog
for the last four years is still there. If unfortunately robbers should
come, remember to keep your ears pricked and to bark."

After giving him this last injunction the man went into the house, shut
the door, and put up the chain.

Poor Pinocchio remained lying on the ground more dead than alive from
the effects of cold, hunger and fear. From time to time he put his hands
angrily to the collar that tightened his throat and said, crying:

"It serves me right! Decidedly, it serves me right! I was determined to
be a vagabond and a good-for-nothing. I would listen to bad companions,
and that is why I always meet with misfortunes. If I had been a good
little boy, as so many are; if I had remained at home with my poor papa,
I should not now be in the midst of the fields and obliged to be the
watch-dog to a peasant's house. Oh, if I could be born again! But now it
is too late and I must have patience!"

Relieved by this little outburst, which came straight from his heart, he
went into the dog-kennel and fell asleep.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXII

PINOCCHIO DISCOVERS THE ROBBERS

He had been sleeping heavily for about two hours when, towards midnight, he
was aroused by a whispering of strange voices that seemed to come from the
courtyard. Putting the point of his nose out of the kennel, he saw four
little beasts with dark fur, that looked like cats, standing consulting
together. But they were not cats; they were polecats--carnivorous little
animals, especially greedy for eggs and young chickens. One of the
polecats, leaving his companions, came to the opening of the kennel and
said in a low voice:

"Good evening, Melampo."

"My name is not Melampo," answered th