Pinocchio looked at the jug and said neither yes nor no.

“And with the bread, I’ll give you a nice dish of cauliflower with white sauce on it.”

Pinocchio gave the jug another look and said neither yes nor no.

“And after the cauliflower, some cake and jam.”

At this last bribery, Pinocchio could no longer resist and said firmly: 

“Very well.  I’ll take the jug home for you.”

The jug was very heavy, and the Marionette, not being strong enough to carry it with his hands, had to put it on his head.

When they arrived home, the little woman made Pinocchio sit down at a small table and placed before him the bread, the cauliflower, and the cake.  Pinocchio did not eat; he devoured.  His stomach seemed a bottomless pit.

His hunger finally appeased, he raised his head to thank his kind benefactress.  But he had not looked at her long when he gave a cry of surprise and sat there with his eyes wide open, his fork in the air, and his mouth filled with bread and cauliflower.

“Why all this surprise?” asked the good woman, laughing.

“Because—­” answered Pinocchio, stammering and stuttering, “because—­you look like—­you remind me of—­yes, yes, the same voice, the same eyes, the same hair—­yes, yes, yes, you also have the same azure hair she had—­Oh, my little Fairy, my little Fairy!  Tell me that it is you!  Don’t make me cry any longer!  If you only knew!  I have cried so much, I have suffered so!”

And Pinocchio threw himself on the floor and clasped the knees of the mysterious little woman.

CHAPTER 25

Pinocchio promises the Fairy to be good and to study, as he is growing tired of being a Marionette, and wishes to become a real boy.

If Pinocchio cried much longer, the little woman thought he would melt away, so she finally admitted that she was the little Fairy with Azure Hair.

“You rascal of a Marionette!  How did you know it was I?” she asked, laughing.

“My love for you told me who you were.”

“Do you remember?  You left me when I was a little girl and now you find me a grown woman.  I am so old, I could almost be your mother!”

“I am very glad of that, for then I can call you mother instead of sister.  For a long time I have wanted a mother, just like other boys.  But how did you grow so quickly?”

“That’s a secret!”

“Tell it to me.  I also want to grow a little.  Look at me!  I have never grown higher than a penny’s worth of cheese.”

“But you can’t grow,” answered the Fairy.

“Why not?”

“Because Marionettes never grow.  They are born Marionettes, they live Marionettes, and they die Marionettes.”

“Oh, I’m tired of always being a Marionette!” cried Pinocchio disgustedly.  “It’s about time for me to grow into a man as everyone else does.”