Free Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi Page B

others; if only I had been willing to study and work; if only I had stayed home with my poor daddy, then I wouldn’t find myself here, in the middle of this field, serving as a watchdog outside a farmer’s house. Oh, if I could only start over! But it’s too late now, and I must be patient!”
    After this little outburst, which was truly from the heart, he crawled into the doghouse and fell asleep.

22
    H E HAD been sound asleep for more than two hours when, around midnight, he was awoken by the whispers and murmurs of strange little voices, which seemed to come from the courtyard. He poked his nose out of the doghouse and saw four dark-furred creatures holding council. They looked a bit like cats, but they weren’t cats: they were weasels, carnivorous little beasts with a strong weakness for eggs and young hens. One of these weasels, turning away from his companions, came over to the doghouse door and said, “Good evening, Tiresias.”
    â€œMy name is not Tiresias,” replied the puppet.
    â€œWho are you then?”
    â€œI am Pinocchio.”
    â€œAnd what are you doing in there?”
    â€œI’m serving as a watchdog.”
    â€œBut where’s Tiresias? Where’s the old dog who lived in this doghouse?”
    â€œHe died this morning.”
    â€œDied? Poor beast! He was such a good dog! But judging by the looks of you, I’d say you’re a friendly dog, too.”
    â€œI beg your pardon—I’m not a dog!”
    â€œThen what are you?”
    â€œI’m a puppet.”
    â€œAnd you’re serving as a watchdog?”
    â€œUnfortunately, as punishment!”
    â€œOkay then, I’ll offer you the same terms I had with the late Tiresias—you’ll be pleased.”
    â€œAnd what might these terms be?”
    â€œWe’ll come once a week, as in the past, and we’ll take eight hens. Of these eight, seven will be for us to eat, and one will be for you—on the condition, of course, that you pretend to be sleeping and never get the urge to bark and wake the farmer.”
    â€œDid Tiresias really do that?” Pinocchio asked.
    â€œHe did, which is why we always got along just fine. So sleep tight, and rest assured that before we go we’ll leave a nice plucked hen outside your doghouse for your morning breakfast. Do we understand each other?”
    â€œAll too well!” replied Pinocchio, nodding his head in an almost threatening way, as if to say: This isn’t over yet!
    The four weasels, now confident in their plan, went straight to the henhouse, which indeed was right there beside the doghouse. With a flurry of claws and teeth, they unlocked the little wooden door that blocked the entrance and they slipped inside, one by one. The last weasel was barely in when they all heard the little door slam violently shut behind them.
    It was Pinocchio who had shut it. And not content with merely closing the little door, he propped a large rock against it, for extra security.
    And then he began to bark—and he barked just like a real watchdog, like this: woof , woof , woof, woof .
    Hearing the barks, the farmer jumped out of bed, grabbed his rifle, and stuck his head out the window.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” he asked.
    â€œThe thieves are here!” replied Pinocchio.
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œIn the henhouse.”
    â€œI’ll be right down.”
    And quicker than you could say “amen” the farmer came down. He rushed into the henhouse, and after grabbing the four weasels and sticking them in a sack, he said in a genuinely happy voice, “Finally you’ve fallen into my hands! I could punish you, but I’m not so mean-spirited! I’ll content myself, rather, with taking you tomorrow to the innkeeper of the neighboring town, who’ll skin you and cook you like hares, in a soursweet sauce. It’s an honor you don’t deserve, but generous men, like me, can overlook such