tall one, âwe have to hang him! Letâs hang him!â
âHang him!â repeated the short one.
They wasted no time tying his hands behind his back and slipping a noose over his head, and then they strung him up from a branch of a large tree called the Big Oak.
And then they waited, sitting on the grass below, for the puppet to stop kicking. But after three hours, his eyes were still open, his mouth still closed, and he was kicking more than ever.
Finally, tired of waiting, they turned to Pinocchio and sneered: âGoodbye until tomorrow. When we come back, letâs hope youâll be so kind as to let us find you good and dead, with that mouth of yours wide open.â
And off they went.
Soon a violent north wind blew in, raging and howling and jerking the poor dangling puppet this way and that, making him swing as wildly as the clapper of a church bell on Sunday. The swinging caused him terrible pain, and the noose grew ever tighter, cutting off his breath.
Little by little, his eyes grew dim, and though he felt himself approaching death, he continued to hope that at any moment some merciful soul might yet come to his aid. But when, after waiting and waiting, he saw that no one was coming, no one at all, then he thought of his poor fatherâand there at deathâs door he stammered, âOh, if only you were here, Daddy!â
He lacked the strength to say another word. His eyes closed, his mouth opened, his legs straightened, and then, after a tremendous shudder, he went completely limp.
16
P OOR PINOCCHIO: having been hung by murderers from a branch of the Big Oak, he now seemed more dead than alive. When the Beautiful Girl with Sky-Blue Hair came to her window again, she was moved to pity by the sight of that poor wretch, dangling by his neck, dancing a jig with the north wind. She brought her hands together three times, making three soft claps.
Her signal was followed by a great beating of wings, as an enormous falcon hurtled down from the sky and landed on the windowsill.
âWhat is your command, my lovely Fairy?â said the Falcon, lowering his beak in a gesture of reverence. (For it just so happens that the Girl with Sky-Blue Hair was nothing other than the kindest of fairies, one who had dwelt in and around that forest for more than a thousand years.)
âDo you see that puppet dangling from a branch of the Big Oak?â
âI see him.â
âNow then: fly to him at once, use your powerful beak to tear apart the knot that keeps him suspended in the air, and lay him out gently on the grass, there at the foot of the tree.â
The Falcon flew off and two minutes later returned, saying, âI have done as you commanded.â
âAnd how did you find him: alive or dead?â
âHe looked dead at first, but he must not be thoroughly dead, because as soon as I loosened the rope around his neck, he sighed and murmured, âI feel better now!ââ
Then the Fairy brought her hands together twice, making two soft claps, and suddenly a magnificent poodle appeared, and he was walking on his hind legs just as people do.
The Poodle was dressed as a coachman, in the finest livery. He wore a tricorn hat with gold-braid trim, a white wig of curly locks that hung down to his shoulders, a chocolate-colored jacket with diamond buttons and two oversize pockets for storing the bones his mistress gave him at dinner, a pair of crimson velvet breeches, silk stockings, little court shoes, and, behind him, a sort of umbrella cover, made entirely of sky-blue satin, that he put over his tail in rainy weather.
âBe a good boy, Lancelot,â said the Fairy to the Poodle, âand go harness the finest carriage in my carriage house and take the forest road to the Big Oak. There youâll find a poor puppet stretched out half dead on the grass. Pick him up gently, lay him ever so carefully on the cushions inside the carriage, and bring him here to me. Do you