“Bring that Marionette to me!  He looks as if he were made of well-seasoned wood.  He’ll make a fine fire for this spit.”

Harlequin and Pulcinella hesitated a bit.  Then, frightened by a look from their master, they left the kitchen to obey him.  A few minutes later they returned, carrying poor Pinocchio, who was wriggling and squirming like an eel and crying pitifully: 

“Father, save me!  I don’t want to die!  I don’t want to die!”

CHAPTER 11

Fire Eater sneezes and forgives Pinocchio, who saves his friend, Harlequin, from death.

In the theater, great excitement reigned.

Fire Eater (this was really his name) was very ugly, but he was far from being as bad as he looked.  Proof of this is that, when he saw the poor Marionette being brought in to him, struggling with fear and crying, “I don’t want to die!  I don’t want to die!” he felt sorry for him and began first to waver and then to weaken.  Finally, he could control himself no longer and gave a loud sneeze.

At that sneeze, Harlequin, who until then had been as sad as a weeping willow, smiled happily and leaning toward the Marionette, whispered to him: 

“Good news, brother mine!  Fire Eater has sneezed and this is a sign that he feels sorry for you.  You are saved!”

For be it known, that, while other people, when sad and sorrowful, weep and wipe their eyes, Fire Eater, on the other hand, had the strange habit of sneezing each time he felt unhappy.  The way was just as good as any other to show the kindness of his heart.

After sneezing, Fire Eater, ugly as ever, cried to Pinocchio: 

“Stop crying!  Your wails give me a funny feeling down here in my stomach and—­E—­tchee!—­E—­tchee!” Two loud sneezes finished his speech.

“God bless you!” said Pinocchio.

“Thanks!  Are your father and mother still living?” demanded Fire Eater.

“My father, yes.  My mother I have never known.”

“Your poor father would suffer terribly if I were to use you as firewood.  Poor old man!  I feel sorry for him!  E—­tchee!  E—­tchee!  E—­tchee!” Three more sneezes sounded, louder than ever.

“God bless you!” said Pinocchio.

“Thanks!  However, I ought to be sorry for myself, too, just now.  My good dinner is spoiled.  I have no more wood for the fire, and the lamb is only half cooked.  Never mind!  In your place I’ll burn some other Marionette.  Hey there!  Officers!”

At the call, two wooden officers appeared, long and thin as a yard of rope, with queer hats on their heads and swords in their hands.

Fire Eater yelled at them in a hoarse voice: 

“Take Harlequin, tie him, and throw him on the fire.  I want my lamb well done!”

Think how poor Harlequin felt!  He was so scared that his legs doubled up under him and he fell to the floor.