of Pinocchio, and wishing him a good
harvest went about their business.

X

PINOCCHIO IS ROBBED

The puppet returned to the town and began to count the minutes one by
one; and when he thought it must be time he took the road leading to
the Field of Miracles.

And as he walked along with hurried steps his heart beat fast, tic,
tac, tic, tac, like a drawing-room clock when it is really going well.
Meanwhile he was thinking to himself:

"And if instead of a thousand gold pieces, I was to find on the
branches of the tree two thousand?... And instead of two thousand
supposing I found five thousand? and instead of five thousand that
I found a hundred thousand? Oh! what a fine gentleman I should then
become!... I would have a beautiful palace, a thousand little wooden
horses and a thousand stables to amuse myself with, a cellar full of
currant-wine, and sweet syrups, and a library quite full of candies,
tarts, plum-cakes, macaroons, and biscuits with cream."

Whilst he was building these castles in the air he had arrived in
the neighborhood of the field, and he stopped to look if by chance he
could perceive a tree with its branches laden with money; but he saw
nothing. He advanced another hundred steps--nothing; he entered the
field ... he went right up to the little hole where he had buried
his gold pieces--and nothing. He then became very thoughtful, and
forgetting the rules of society and good manners he took his hands out
of his pockets and gave his head a long scratch.

At that moment he heard an explosion of laughter close to him, and
looking up he saw a large Parrot perched on a tree, who was preening
the few feathers he had left.

"Why are you laughing?" asked Pinocchio in an angry voice.

"I am laughing because in preening my feathers I tickled myself under
my wings."

The puppet did not answer, but went to the canal and, filling the same
old shoe full of water, he proceeded to water the earth afresh that
covered his gold pieces.

Whilst he was thus occupied another laugh, and still more impertinent
than the first, rang out in the silence of that solitary place.

"Once for all," shouted Pinocchio in a rage, "may I know, you
ill-educated Parrot, what are you laughing at?"

"I am laughing at those simpletons who believe in all the foolish
things that are told them, and who allow themselves to be entrapped by
those who are more cunning than they are."

"Are you perhaps speaking of me?"

"Yes, I a