“Assuredly.”

“What a delightful country!” repeated Pinocchio, looking enchanted.  Then, with a resolute air, he added in a great hurry: 

“This time really good-bye, and a pleasant journey to you.”

“Good-bye.”

“When do you start?”

“Shortly.”

“What a pity!  If really it wanted only an hour to the time of your start, I should almost be tempted to wait.”

“And the Fairy?”

“It is already late.  If I return home an hour sooner or later it will be all the same.”

“Poor Pinocchio!  And if the Fairy scolds you?”

“I must have patience!  I will let her scold.  When she has scolded well she will hold her tongue.”

In the meantime night had come on and it was quite dark.  Suddenly they saw in the distance a small light moving and they heard a noise of talking, and the sound of a trumpet, but so small and feeble that it resembled the hum of a mosquito.

“Here it is!” shouted Candlewick, jumping to his feet.

“What is it?” asked Pinocchio in a whisper.

“It is the coach coming to take me.  Now will you come, yes or no?”

“But is it really true,” asked the puppet, “that in that country boys are never obliged to study?”

“Never, never, never!”

“What a delightful country!  What a delightful country!  What a delightful country!”

[Illustration:  They thought it would be more comfortable to get on the Tunny’s back]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXXI

PINOCCHIO ENJOYS FIVE MONTHS OF HAPPINESS

At last the coach arrived, and it arrived without making the slightest noise, for its wheels were bound round with flax and rags.

It was drawn by twelve pairs of donkeys, all the same size but of different colors.

Some were gray, some white, some brindled like pepper and salt, and others had large stripes of yellow and blue.

But the most extraordinary thing was this:  the twelve pairs, that is, the twenty-four donkeys, instead of being shod like other beasts of burden, had on their feet men’s boots made of white kid.

And the coachman?

Picture to yourself a little man broader than he was long, flabby and greasy like a lump of butter, with a small round face like an orange, a little mouth that was always laughing, and a soft, caressing voice like a cat when she is trying to insinuate herself into the good graces of the mistress of the house.

All the boys vied with each other in taking places in his coach, to be conducted to the “Land of Boobies.”

The coach was, in fact, quite full of boys between eight and fourteen years old, heaped one upon another like herrings in a barrel.  They were uncomfortable, packed closely together and could hardly breathe; but nobody said “Oh!”—­nobody grumbled.  The consolation of knowing that in a few hours they would reach a country where there were no books, no schools, and no masters, made them so happy and resigned that they felt neither fatigue nor inconvenience, neither hunger, nor thirst, nor want of sleep.