I recognized you by your voices.
That is why I am here."

At these words the two little donkeys were quite stupefied and stood
with their heads down, their ears lowered, and their tails between their
legs.

At first the little man stroked and caressed them; then, taking out a
currycomb, he currycombed them well. And when by this process he had
polished them till they shone like two mirrors, he put a halter round
their necks and led them to the market-place, in hopes of selling them
and making a good profit.

And indeed buyers were not wanting. Candlewick was bought by a peasant
whose donkey had died the previous day. Pinocchio was sold to the
director of a company of buffoons and tight-rope dancers, who bought him
that he might teach him to leap and to dance with the other animals
belonging to the company.

And now, my little readers, you will have understood the fine trade that
little man pursued. The wicked little monster, who had a face all milk
and honey, made frequent journeys round the world with his coach. As he
went along he collected, with promises and flattery, all the idle boys
who had taken a dislike to books and school. As soon as his coach was
full he conducted them to the "Land of Boobies," that they might pass
their time in games, in uproar, and in amusement. When these poor,
deluded boys, from continual play and no study, had become so many
little donkeys, he took possession of them with great delight and
satisfaction, and carried them off to the fairs and markets to be sold.
And in this way he had in a few years made heaps of money and had become
a millionaire.

What became of Candlewick I do not know, but I do know that Pinocchio
from the very first day had to endure a very hard, laborious life.

When he was put into his stall his master filled the manger with straw;
but Pinocchio, having tried a mouthful, spat it out again.

Then his master, grumbling, filled the manger with hay; but neither did
the hay please him.

"Ah!" exclaimed his master in a passion. "Does not hay please you
either? Leave it to me, my fine donkey; if you are so full of caprices I
will find a way to cure you!"

And by way of correcting him he struck his legs with his whip.

Pinocchio began to cry and to bray with pain, and he said, braying:

"Hee-haw! I cannot digest straw!"

"Then eat hay!" said his master, who understood perfectly the asinine
dialect.

"Hee-haw! hay gives me a pain in my stomach."

"Do you m