“Ah! is that it?” shouted Pinocchio, blind with rage.  “Since the knocker has disappeared, I will kick instead with all my might.”

And, drawing a little back, he gave a tremendous kick against the house door.  The blow was indeed so violent that his foot went through the wood and stuck; and when he tried to draw it back again it was trouble thrown away, for it remained fixed like a nail that has been hammered down.

Think of poor Pinocchio!  He was obliged to spend the remainder of the night with one foot on the ground and the other in the air.

The following morning at daybreak the door was at last opened.  The clever little Snail had taken only nine hours to come down from the fourth story to the house-door.  It is evident that her exertions must have been great.

“What are you doing with your foot stuck in the door?” she asked the puppet.

“It was an accident.  Do try, beautiful little Snail, if you cannot release me from this torture.”

“My boy, that is the work of a carpenter, and I have never been a carpenter.”

“Beg the Fairy from me!”

“The Fairy is asleep and must not be awakened.”

“But what do you suppose that I can do all day nailed to this door?”

“Amuse yourself by counting the ants that pass down the street.”

“Bring me at least something to eat, for I am quite exhausted.”

“At once,” said the Snail.

In fact, after three hours and a half she returned to Pinocchio carrying a silver tray on her head.  The tray contained a loaf of bread, a roast chicken, and four ripe apricots.

“Here is the breakfast that the Fairy has sent you,” said the Snail.

The puppet felt very much comforted at the sight of these good things.  But when he began to eat them, what was his disgust at making the discovery that the bread was plaster, the chicken cardboard, and the four apricots painted alabaster.

He wanted to cry.  In his desperation he tried to throw away the tray and all that was on it; but instead, either from grief or exhaustion, he fainted away.

When he came to himself he found that he was lying on a sofa, and the Fairy was beside him.

“I will pardon you once more,” the Fairy said, “but woe to you if you behave badly a third time!”

Pinocchio promised and swore that he would study, and that for the future he would always conduct himself well.

And he kept his word for the remainder of the year.  Indeed, at the examinations before the holidays, he had the honor of being the first in the school, and his behavior in general was so satisfactory and praiseworthy that the Fairy was very much pleased, and said to him: 

“Tomorrow your wish shall be gratified.”

“And that is?”

“Tomorrow you shall cease to be a wooden puppet and you shall become a boy.”

No one who had not witnessed it could ever imagine Pinocchio’s joy at this long-sighed-for good fortune.  All his school-fellows were to be invited for the following day to a grand breakfast at the Fairy’s house, that they might celebrate together the great event.  The Fairy had prepared two hundred cups of coffee and milk, and four hundred rolls cut and buttered on each side.  The day promised to be most happy and delightful, but—­