ter had given him.

At the jingling of the money the Fox, with an involuntary movement,
stretched out the paw that seemed crippled, and the Cat opened wide two
eyes that looked like two green lanterns. It is true that she shut them
again, and so quickly that Pinocchio observed nothing.

"And now," asked the Fox, "what are you going to do with all that
money?"

"First of all," answered the puppet, "I intend to buy a new coat for my
papa, made of gold and silver, and with diamond buttons; and then I will
buy a spelling-book for myself."

"For yourself?"

"Yes indeed, for I wish to go to school to study in earnest."

"Look at me!" said the Fox. "Through my foolish passion for study I have
lost a leg."

"Look at me!" said the Cat. "Through my foolish passion for study I have
lost the sight of both my eyes."

At that moment a white Blackbird, that was perched on the hedge by the
road, began his usual song, and said:

"Pinocchio, don't listen to the advice of bad companions; if you do you
will repent it!"

Poor Blackbird! If only he had not spoken! The Cat, with a great leap,
sprang upon him, and without even giving him time to say "Oh!" ate him
in a mouthful, feathers and all.

Having eaten him and cleaned her mouth she shut her eyes again and
feigned blindness as before.

"Poor Blackbird!" said Pinocchio to the Cat, "why did you treat him so
badly?"

"I did it to give him a lesson. He will learn another time not to
meddle in other people's conversation."

They had gone almost half-way when the Fox, halting suddenly, said to
the puppet:

"Would you like to double your money?"

"In what way?"

"Would you like to make out of your five miserable sovereigns, a
hundred, a thousand, two thousand?"

"I should think so! but in what way?"

"The way is easy enough. Instead of returning home you must go with us."

"And where do you wish to take me?"

"To the land of the Owls."

Pinocchio reflected a moment, and then he said resolutely:

"No, I will not go. I am already close to the house, and I will return
home to my papa, who is waiting for me. Who can tell how often the poor
old man must have sighed yesterday when I did not come back! I have
indeed been a bad son, and the Talking-Cricket was right when he said:
'Disobedient boys never come to any good in the world.' I have found it
to be true, for many misfortunes have happened to me. Even yesterday in
Fire-Eater's house I ran the risk--Oh! it makes me