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- Карло Коллоди
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With
these
words
he
spread
out
his
wings
and
,
darting
to
the
open
window
,
he
flew
away
into
space
till
he
was
out
of
sight
.
The
poor
Marionette
stood
as
if
turned
to
stone
,
with
wide
eyes
,
open
mouth
,
and
the
empty
halves
of
the
egg-shell
in
his
hands
.
When
he
came
to
himself
,
he
began
to
cry
and
shriek
at
the
top
of
his
lungs
,
stamping
his
feet
on
the
ground
and
wailing
all
the
while
:
"
The
Talking
Cricket
was
right
!
If
I
had
not
run
away
from
home
and
if
Father
were
here
now
,
I
should
not
be
dying
of
hunger
.
Oh
,
how
horrible
it
is
to
be
hungry
!
"
And
as
his
stomach
kept
grumbling
more
than
ever
and
he
had
nothing
to
quiet
it
with
,
he
thought
of
going
out
for
a
walk
to
the
near-by
village
,
in
the
hope
of
finding
some
charitable
person
who
might
give
him
a
bit
of
bread
.
Pinocchio
hated
the
dark
street
,
but
he
was
so
hungry
that
,
in
spite
of
it
,
he
ran
out
of
the
house
.
The
night
was
pitch
black
.
It
thundered
,
and
bright
flashes
of
lightning
now
and
again
shot
across
the
sky
,
turning
it
into
a
sea
of
fire
.
An
angry
wind
blew
cold
and
raised
dense
clouds
of
dust
,
while
the
trees
shook
and
moaned
in
a
weird
way
.
Pinocchio
was
greatly
afraid
of
thunder
and
lightning
,
but
the
hunger
he
felt
was
far
greater
than
his
fear
.
In
a
dozen
leaps
and
bounds
,
he
came
to
the
village
,
tired
out
,
puffing
like
a
whale
,
and
with
tongue
hanging
.
The
whole
village
was
dark
and
deserted
.
The
stores
were
closed
,
the
doors
,
the
windows
.
In
the
streets
,
not
even
a
dog
could
be
seen
.
It
seemed
the
Village
of
the
Dead
.
Pinocchio
,
in
desperation
,
ran
up
to
a
doorway
,
threw
himself
upon
the
bell
,
and
pulled
it
wildly
,
saying
to
himself
:
"
Someone
will
surely
answer
that
!
"
He
was
right
.
An
old
man
in
a
nightcap
opened
the
window
and
looked
out
.
He
called
down
angrily
:
"
What
do
you
want
at
this
hour
of
night
?
"
