to frighten anyone. His beard was as black
as ink, and so long that it reached from his chin to the ground. I
need only say that he trod upon it when he walked. His mouth was as
big as an oven, and his eyes were like two lanterns of red glass with
lights burning inside of them. He carried a whip made of snakes and
foxes' tails twisted together, which he cracked constantly.

At his unexpected appearance there was a profound silence: no one
dared to breathe. A fly might have been heard in the stillness. The
poor puppets of both sexes trembled like so many leaves.

"Why have you come to raise a disturbance in my theater?" asked the
showman of Pinocchio in the gruff voice of a hob-goblin suffering from
a severe cold in the head.

"Believe me, honored sir, that it was not my fault!"

"That is enough! To-night we will settle our accounts."

As soon as the play was over the showman went into the kitchen where
a fine sheep, preparing for his supper, was turning slowly on the spit
in front of the fire. As there was not enough wood to finish roasting
and browning it, he called Harlequin and Punchinello, and said to
them:

"Bring that puppet here; you will find him hanging on a nail. It seems
to me that he is made of very dry wood, and I am sure that if he was
thrown on the fire he would make a beautiful blaze for the roast."

At first Harlequin and Punchinello hesitated; but, appalled by a
severe glance from their master, they obeyed. In a short time they
returned to the kitchen carrying poor Pinocchio, who was wriggling
like an eel taken out of water, and screaming desperately, "Papa!
papa! save me! I will not die, I will not die!"

V.

FIRE-EATER SNEEZES AND PARDONS PINOCCHIO

The showman Fire-eater--for that was his name--looked, I must say, a
terrible man, especially with his black beard that covered his chest
and legs like an apron. On the whole, however, he had not a bad heart.
In proof of this, when he saw Pinocchio brought before him, struggling
and screaming "I will not die, I will not die!" he was quite moved and
felt sorry for him. He tried to hold out, but after a little he could
stand it no longer and he sneezed violently. When he heard the sneeze,
Harlequin, who up to that moment had been in the deepest affliction,
and bowed down like a weeping willow, became quite cheerful, and
leaning towards Pinocchio he whispered to him softly:

"Good news, brother. The showman has sneezed, and that is a sign th