“Oh, I see,” he said, trying bravely to laugh and ruffling up his wig with his hand.  “It can easily be seen I only imagined I heard the tiny voice!  Well, well—­to work once more!”

The poor fellow was scared half to death, so he tried to sing a gay song in order to gain courage.

He set aside the hatchet and picked up the plane to make the wood smooth and even, but as he drew it to and fro, he heard the same tiny voice.  This time it giggled as it spoke: 

“Stop it!  Oh, stop it!  Ha, ha, ha!  You tickle my stomach.”

This time poor Mastro Cherry fell as if shot.  When he opened his eyes, he found himself sitting on the floor.

His face had changed; fright had turned even the tip of his nose from red to deepest purple.

CHAPTER 2

Mastro Cherry gives the piece of wood to his friend Geppetto, who takes it to make himself a Marionette that will dance, fence, and turn somersaults.

In that very instant, a loud knock sounded on the door.  “Come in,” said the carpenter, not having an atom of strength left with which to stand up.

At the words, the door opened and a dapper little old man came in.  His name was Geppetto, but to the boys of the neighborhood he was Polendina,* on account of the wig he always wore which was just the color of yellow corn.

     * Cornmeal mush

Geppetto had a very bad temper.  Woe to the one who called him Polendina!  He became as wild as a beast and no one could soothe him.

“Good day, Mastro Antonio,” said Geppetto.  “What are you doing on the floor?”

“I am teaching the ants their A B C’s.”

“Good luck to you!”

“What brought you here, friend Geppetto?”

“My legs.  And it may flatter you to know, Mastro Antonio, that I have come to you to beg for a favor.”

“Here I am, at your service,” answered the carpenter, raising himself on to his knees.

“This morning a fine idea came to me.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I thought of making myself a beautiful wooden Marionette.  It must be wonderful, one that will be able to dance, fence, and turn somersaults.  With it I intend to go around the world, to earn my crust of bread and cup of wine.  What do you think of it?”

“Bravo, Polendina!” cried the same tiny voice which came from no one knew where.

On hearing himself called Polendina, Mastro Geppetto turned the color of a red pepper and, facing the carpenter, said to him angrily: 

“Why do you insult me?”

“Who is insulting you?”

“You called me Polendina.”

“I did not.”

“I suppose you think I did!  Yet I know it was you.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

And growing angrier each moment, they went from words to blows, and finally began to scratch and bite and slap each other.