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- Карло Коллоди
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He
might
as
well
have
talked
to
a
wall
.
The
Serpent
never
moved
.
Once
more
,
in
the
same
sweet
voice
,
he
spoke
:
"
You
must
know
,
Mr.
Serpent
,
that
I
am
going
home
where
my
father
is
waiting
for
me
.
It
is
so
long
since
I
have
seen
him
!
Would
you
mind
very
much
if
I
passed
?
"
He
waited
for
some
sign
of
an
answer
to
his
questions
,
but
the
answer
did
not
come
.
On
the
contrary
,
the
green
Serpent
,
who
had
seemed
,
until
then
,
wide
awake
and
full
of
life
,
became
suddenly
very
quiet
and
still
.
His
eyes
closed
and
his
tail
stopped
smoking
.
"
Is
he
dead
,
I
wonder
?
"
said
Pinocchio
,
rubbing
his
hands
together
happily
.
Without
a
moment
's
hesitation
,
he
started
to
step
over
him
,
but
he
had
just
raised
one
leg
when
the
Serpent
shot
up
like
a
spring
and
the
Marionette
fell
head
over
heels
backward
.
He
fell
so
awkwardly
that
his
head
stuck
in
the
mud
,
and
there
he
stood
with
his
legs
straight
up
in
the
air
.
At
the
sight
of
the
Marionette
kicking
and
squirming
like
a
young
whirlwind
,
the
Serpent
laughed
so
heartily
and
so
long
that
at
last
he
burst
an
artery
and
died
on
the
spot
.
Pinocchio
freed
himself
from
his
awkward
position
and
once
more
began
to
run
in
order
to
reach
the
Fairy
's
house
before
dark
.
As
he
went
,
the
pangs
of
hunger
grew
so
strong
that
,
unable
to
withstand
them
,
he
jumped
into
a
field
to
pick
a
few
grapes
that
tempted
him
.
Woe
to
him
!
No
sooner
had
he
reached
the
grapevine
than
--
crack
!
went
his
legs
.
The
poor
Marionette
was
caught
in
a
trap
set
there
by
a
Farmer
for
some
Weasels
which
came
every
night
to
steal
his
chickens
.
Pinocchio
,
as
you
may
well
imagine
,
began
to
scream
and
weep
and
beg
;
but
all
was
of
no
use
,
for
no
houses
were
to
be
seen
and
not
a
soul
passed
by
on
the
road
.
